Layered Wounds

Layered Wounds

I had a hard thing happen in my life (a wound let's call it) a few years ago. What it was doesn't  matter. We have all been wounded and for this maybe if I don't share exactly what it was it will help you replace my situation with your own. 

When the wound came, I had lots of feelings directed at God. I was angry, hurt, disappointed. I told Him. I told Him how angry, hurt, and disappointed I was. I cried about it. I got angry about it. But none of that changed the wound. The wound had already happened, there was no undoing it. I didn't like that God had let it happen. I even remember in one of my rants at Jesus thinking, "For all I have done for you. I have devoted my life to you, and you couldn't prevent this?" I am ashamed of that rant. I hate admitting that I was that prideful, but it is the truth and I need this to be as honest as I can be.

I knew I had work to do between me and my maker, so I scheduled a retreat. I went away to a quiet beautiful place by myself, and I cried, prayed, read scripture, journaled, and started the healing process. I remember coming home from the retreat and hoping the pain was over. Some wounds are easy to heal like a scrape when you fall, other wounds go deep like a burn, and it takes time and layers of healing before the final healing takes place and even then you are left with deforming scars that serve as reminders of the journey you have been on. I wanted a scrape wound but what I had was a layered burn.

I talked with my therapist about it. Yep, I have a therapist. Love her! Highly recommend em! My therapist was wonderful about pushing me and letting up kind of like when someone has a bleeder and you put pressure on it and then you let up and peek under the bandage to see if it starts bleeding again.

I was in the phase of healing that it was not actively hurting all the time like it did when the injury first happened but if it was bumped the pain would reemerge which meant it wasn't fully healed yet.

The church I attend had a message entitled "Open Wounds" in that message our pastor asked the question, "What is hurting inside you? Is it unresolved pain? You must seek healing in the place of your pain." I took that message home and considered it.

I lead a Small Group and our topic last semester was Boundaries. There is a great quote from Townsend & Cloud the authors of the book Boundaries that states: "God wants us to respect his no just as we want others to respect our no."

Why wasn't the wound I had healed yet? What was at the root of the hurt? The bottom line was I didn't respect God's no. God didn't answer a prayer the way I wanted him to answer it and I was butt hurt about it. Still. I was a little weary of trusting God fully because he hurt me by not giving me what I wanted. Now that may sound childish, and it is I reckon but what I wanted was something I believed God wanted too. Why he didn't step in and prevent the wound I do not know, and I may never know and I HAVE to choose to be okay with that. I MUST choose to respect God's no. I don't have to understand it. I don't have to agree with it, but I do have to respect it because He is trustworthy. I know He is trustworthy because that is who he is. He can't be anything else. And my relationship with Jesus is my most important relationship in my life and I don't want barriers between him and I. I know Jesus has my back. He is on my team. He is my couch, friend, father, caretaker, and my very breath. I believe he hurts with us when we are wounded. I believe he hated what happened just as much as I hated what happened. I also believe that with Jesus our suffering is never wasted. 

What's your layered wound? Are you ready to trust God that He is in fact trustworthy?

Tar Baby Thoughts

Tar Baby Thoughts

When I was younger I had this little Mickey Mouse record player. My mom bought me some records that had stories on them. One of my favorites was the story of Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby. In the story Brer Rabbit gets tricked into thinking that there is a person sitting on a log but in reality his friends have dressed up some tar and made it look like a person. As Brer Rabbit greets the Tar Baby he gets no response. Brer thinks this is an unfriendly person and keeps saying howdy to the Tar Baby with no response back. Finally Brer Rabbit gets so frustrated he begins to physically engage with the Tar Baby only to be stuck in mess of tar! The harder Brer Rabbit tries to get unstuck the more he gets stuck.

This is the story that came to my mind last night. Sometimes my thoughts become like that Tar Baby. My thoughts will race and I will try to get unstuck from them only to get deeper into the Tar Baby thoughts. It can be frustrating, and sometimes scary. I am a Christian and one of the things that I have found that can sometimes help is to focus my mind on scripture, especially the verses in the Bible that have to do with thoughts. Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think on these things."

How do you battle your Tar Baby thoughts?

Addiction

This Christmas season I have seen and talked with so many people struggling with loved ones who are addicts. Addicts of sex, drugs, alcohol, abusive relationships. So tonight my mind is on it.

Addiction is a horrible, horrible thing. I don't know of anyone who would disagree with that statement.  My whole life I have been in and out of relationships with people who were addicted. I have never been addicted to anything so I can't say what it is like to be addicted but may I say being the one on the other side of that relationship is completely exhausting, exhilarating, hopeful, hopeless, and more often then not heartbreaking.

If you have been there you know. You hold your breath when they tell you, "It's over. I'm done." You hold your breath and you try to decide if this time you should have hope. Hope can feel like an enemy because you have had it before for them and then it's been crushed and with it apart of your heart.

You love them completely without complete understanding. Because you can't understand. You try. You look and you think I don't get it. Why can't they just quit. They have to see that this addiction could kill them and at the very least it is destroying their credibility. Why can't they see? Maybe if I explain it to them this way.  Maybe if I love them more. Maybe if I'm harder on them. We take it on. It's not ours to take but we do it anyway because we love them and we see the devastation and we just want them to see it.

I have seen people break the bonds of addiction and never turn back. It is so very very joyous. It seems so fateful.

I have seen addiction end in death. It is so very very sad. It seemed so avoidable.

What makes the one and breaks the other?

With so many people hoping, loosing hope, finding it again. I pray. I pray for you as the loved ones. I pray for you as the addict. While hoping in people will always deflate, Hope in Christ, believing that He loves them more than we do gives me comfort. I pray it does for you as well.

I was a substitute teacher for five years in the elementary ages. I found such joy in this little part time gig. It was like being a grandma. I was able to come in give the day in day out teacher (mom) a break for a day or two while they were sick or on vacation. And while I did try to abide by the rules/traditions of that teacher it was nice to have the freedom to do my own little thing with the kids from time to time.

May I tell you one of my very favorite sub stories?

So I got the call about a week before asking if I could come into a 1st grade class while the teacher would be attending a meeting at the school. I had never subbed for this particular teacher but was willing to give it a try. I can do anything for one day right?

I walked into the office to sign in. The secretary asked what class I would be teaching that day. I told her and she got this funny look on her face. She then sighed and said, "Denise if you need any help today don't hesitate to call the office. You have a real handful with that class, well, actually just one, but little Jimmy (not his real name) is enough for 10 teachers."

Okay I thought, hmmm this could be interesting.

I walked down the hall to the room and as I am walking in one of the teacher across the hall says,
"Hi! Are you subbing for Sally (not her real name) today?
"Yes I am" I say.
"Oh well if Jimmy gives you any trouble just feel free to come get me or call if you feel like you can't leave the room."
Okay, thanks I hesitantly answer.

I walk in the room go to the teacher's desk and on a yellow post it note on top of the lesson plans written in red ink is this message, "Don't let Jimmy get the upper hand, be firm with him from the beginning."

I really did not know what to think so I prayed. "Lord, I asked, I am not sure what is going on with Jimmy but may today be a day of joy for him and for me."

I went on to put my jacket and purse away and settle in for the morning routine of reading the lesson plans, getting out the attendance sheets, and getting ready to greet the students as they arrived.

In the lesson plans as was the usually their were names of students at the top of the page who would make good helper's for the day.  Holly and Ben (not their real names) were listed as good helper's.

With the time approaching for the kids to start bustling in with their oversized backpacks, little lunch boxes, coats, mitten's, and hats I began my approach to the door to say Good Morning!

First in the door was an adorable little blonde named you guessed it.. Holly. She was more than willing to "help" me by telling me exactly how the morning should go, and by saying in a very serious tone, "Jimmy will be late, he's always late, because he doesn't have any money and has to eat breakfast here at the school, and he is slow, so he is ALLLLWAYS late!"

So Holly was right, the infamous Jimmy was the very last one in the class that morning. And when he walked in he sized me up with a menacing stare and said, "You aren't my teacher!"
"No Jimmy I'm not your regular teacher I am just your teacher for today, and I gotta tell ya, I'm a little lost and I was wondering if you could be my special helper today?"
At this little Miss Holly stood up out of her seat and said, "OHHHHH NOOOOO! Jimmy can't be a helper he is bad, only good kids get to be helper's!!" All the other kids voiced their agreement.  Chaos ensued for about 10 seconds. I went over to the light switch turned it off and then on (the signal that all chatter is to be quieted quickly). Then very calmly I knelt down to little Jimmy's desk and looked into his big brown eyes that were as big as quarters at the thought of anyone asking him to be the helper for the day and said, "Jimmy would you like to be my special helper today?"  With some left over syrup on his dirty little face he nodded slowly yes.

We began with story time. Everyone gathers and takes a seat on a round rug with the ABC's on it and I get a big book with lots of pictures and read to them. I had Jimmy be my page turner. He could only turn the page if everyone was sitting nicely and not talking. Miss Holly did not like this one little bit. She said, "Miss Teacher, Jimmy can't be page turner he is bad, he is not a good boy, only the good kids get to be page turner. I should be page turner. I am good."  Jimmy gave Holly the stink eye and started to ball up his fists, uh ohh I better jump in quick. So I told Holly, "Today I am the teacher and today Jimmy is page turner and I don't want to hear anymore about it Holly now please sit down." Holly's little lip quivered and she plopped down and crossed her arms. Jimmy looked at me with a big smile. I almost laughed!

By the way, Jimmy was an amazing page turner. He was strictor with turning the page than I would have been. Telling everyone, "Nope I not turning the page till you's is quiet."

On and on the morning went with Jimmy right by my side.

The teacher from across the hall came in before lunch to "check" on things and left with her mouth hanging open.

By the end of the day Jimmy was my new best friend. He would not leave my side or let go of my hand. He came to me and asked, "Can you be my all the time teacher?" No I said, but Jimmy I want you to listen to me, you are not a bad boy. You are a good boy. You can show everyone who thinks you are bad that you aren't. He interrupted and said, "Like HOLLLLLLLLYYYYY."  Yes I said, just like Holly.

He started to cry and grabbed a hold of me and said, "This was the best day of my life, I don't want you to go, please don't go."

I bent down and undid his little arms from around my legs and said, "Jimmy you just needed a chance today, now you know who you really are, now you show your teacher when she is here tomorrow that all you needed was a chance."

I didn't know if what I said made any sense to him but he stopped crying and seemed to stand taller.

Everyone needs a chance to be special to not just be pegged as "the athlete, the nerd, the poor bad kid"

Jimmy taught me so much more than I taught him that day.

Come and have breakfast.

“Come and have breakfast.”  (John 21:12)

One very small sentence.  But to understand everything that happened around that one sentence is so humbling to me.  Jesus had died, been buried, and been raised from the dead.  He had been stranded and betrayed by his closest earthly friends.  Friends that claimed to love him.  Friends that claimed they would never leave him, never deny him.

After Jesus died, Peter, who had betrayed Jesus by denying him three times went back to fishing.  I’m not sure what that says about Peter.  I don’t necessarily thin it was a bad idea.  He was probably full of grief and confusion and to go back to doing the one thing he knew how to do may have given him comfort.  It was also his livelihood.  And just like the day that Peter was called by Jesus to become a fisher of men, Peter was not catching any fish this day either.  Jesus, who is on the shore says the same words he spoke to Peter three long years ago.  “Cast your net on the other side.”  That does it!  Peter knows this man on the shore is Jesus.  This is the first time Peter and Jesus have encountered each other since the night Peter denied Jesus.  Jesus goes to where Peter is fishing, and he makes him and the others breakfast.  At that breakfast Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him.  How very, very hard that must have been for Peter!

Such a simple thing.  To make a meal for someone.  But what about making a meal for someone who betrayed you?  Still, Jesus did not chew Peter out.  He gently, calmly asked Peter, the betrayer, if he was sure about his love for Jesus.  Jesus shows remarkable character in this scene.  How can we be more like Him?

Jesus provides an example for how we might respond to betrayal.  Granted we are not Jesus, and granted Peter was sorry for his actions.  Regardless, Jesus’ response to betrayal is to share a meal and have a needed conversation, in hopes of restoration.

Lord Jesus, when someone betrays us, help us to look at your example as we respond.  You were betrayed and you made a meal and talked it through.  Give us the strength to ask the one who betrayed us the hard questions.  Give us the patience and the willingness to listen to the answers.  Lord, it is easy to be hurt and to want to hurt in kind.  Thank you instead for your example.  Thank you that we serve a King who has suffered what we have suffered and offers us another way.  In your name we pray, Amen.

The Shopping Cart Guy

Purposeless, you ever felt that way? Like what am I doing that really matters? I think we all have at one point or another. I had one of those days. I was going to the grocery, such a mundane thing to do and I thought, "ugh, what am I doing that really matters?"  Then I saw him. The guy at the grocery store that I look forward to seeing every time I'm there. I've almost become a stalker with this poor fella. I don't know what his name is but he is a big guy with really thick glasses and a look of determination on his face. He is the cart guy. I have seen him out getting the carts in the pouring rain, snow, sunshine, cold, hot, doesn't matter the circumstance he is out in that parking lot heaving and pulling all those shopping carts together.

God spoke to me through the shopping cart guy. He said, "My sweet Denise, he does this "mundane" job so that you don't have to. He does it no matter the circumstance, no matter. He is my child and I am proud of him, just as proud as I am of someone who teaches, performs surgery, or runs a business. He is my child with my purpose, you are my child with my purpose."

I went and got a huge Hershey candy bar and found the shopping cart guy and said, "Hey I just want you to know I really appreciate what you do. Thanks and have a great day." He smiled, and maybe God did too.

The hard and the easy

Sometimes life is hard, not always, and for that I am thankful. But sometimes it is hard. Sometimes all you can see is the hard. I've been there. Haven't we all? But there is good. Sometimes you have to search for it, in the small delicate things like a sweet melody hummed by an aging woman in a gray shawl. Or the hush from a mother as she comforts a hurting child. Or the sparkle in the eyes of a man as he looks at his wife, the way he did when they were much younger. Or in a young man who opens the door to a not so young woman. Or in the wave of a neighbor in a place where no one waves that lets you know you've been seen today, not just passed over but seen.

In a world that is often hard it's nice to find the good in the easy.

Anxiety

Anxiety… we all have experienced some form of it in our lives. But what about the people who have anxiety attacks, or on going issues with anxiety?

I am not sure if it is the weather or what but I have had four people in the last week talk to me about problems they are having with anxiety, me being one of the four!! Yes I do talk to myself…. that is a post for another day!

For the rest of this post I will only be referring to my own issues with anxiety, please don't read this  and think you now have the answer's for all your friends who have anxiety because like everything in life, what works or doesn't work for one person may or may not work for another.

I have had problems with anxiety my whole life. I was the kid in kindergarden who cried and wanted to go home for not one day, or one week, but the whole half of the year!

For those of you who are laid back easy going people who don't understand what all the fuss is about, can I enlighten you?

What causes an anxiety attack in me?

• Things being unorganized or cluttered. 
• Decisions that need to be made quickly that I don't feel like I have had time to think through.
• People invading my personal space.
• Not being able to exit a place easily.** This is a BIG one for me!
• Not being heard.
• Loud, cluttered, places with tons of people.

What helps when it is happening?

• Go to a quiet place
• Breathe
• Pray
• Organize something
• Help someone else
•  Call a friend 
• Hugging my husband
• Petting my dog
• Go outside for a walk
• Make a list

How do I try to avoid them?

• Sit on an aisle seat not in the middle
• Check out exit signs to know how to exit if I need to
• If I need to go somewhere with lots of noise, people, and such I make sure I am well rested and have had time to unwind before I go. Going to a place like that after a really hectic day is a big no no for me.
• If someone asks me to make a decision I tell them I am not a quick decision maker, could they give me some time?
• Get lots of sleep
• Write down scripture when I a calm and have them on index cards, and keep them in a handy place.
• Be intentional about my calendar and don't plan too many (what I call ) "people days" in a row
• If sitting somewhere where I am concerned about personal space I usually carry a large purse that allows me to sit it in an empty chair to give me some extra space.
• If I am having a conversation and someone is not listening I simply stop speaking until I have their attention

This is not an end all be all but a few things to consider. I am interested for people to comment on things that have worked or not worked for them. Let's all be considerate, and empathatic to the people we know who struggle with what can be an absolutely debilatating life struggle. 

Praise Him

Praise Him

I recently went to a Christian conference. It was held at Conseco Fieldhouse in downtown Indianapolis. This is a ginormous place.  It can seat roughly 20,000 people. 

The first night of the conference I was floored at seeing all of us singing and praising the Lord. It was humbling! I caught myself whispering to the Lord. I said, "Lord, do you hear us? Does this bless you Lord? Are you as in awe of this as I am?" With tears streaming down my face I heard him say "Yes." Not an audible voice but a soft whisper from within that I knew was Him.

I did not expect to be more moved than I had been that very first night, but God has a way of surprising me. The last day of the conference I had come alone. With it just being me I was able to get a closer seat. I sat still high but was able to look out at the people on the ground floor. Right before things started I noticed an American Sign Language translator. She was amazing to watch. She fluidly signed all the announcements. Then another person caught my eye. There was a gentleman in a wheel chair being wheeled to a handicap accessible spot right below me on the ground floor. He was older with gray hair. Once he got to his spot he took out a cane and tried to stand. He seemed to be having some trouble so decided to sit back down in his chair. 

About this time the praise and worship team entered and asked us all to stand and lift our voices to the one and only true God. As I looked at all these very different people, old, young, black, white, women, men, hearing, non hearing, people with disabilities, people without, the one thing we all had in common was our willingness to praise. Just as I was about to cry again, I looked over at the man in the wheelchair, raised high above his head was the cane. He was praising God with his cane.


Psalm 150:1-6 Praise the Lord! Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens! Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his excellent greatness! Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp! Praise him with a tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe! Praise him sounding cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!  

Psalm 150:1-6 

The Ginger Story

One of the jobs I had in the past that I loved was at a non-profit organization called Bridgepoint. Bridgepoint provided a wide group of services for people with disabilities. Everything from physical therapy, occupational therapy, job training, and a whole host of other things that were to help folks who had disabilities to enjoy and be a working part of society.

My role at this fabulous establishment was to write their stories. I would write, take pictures and publish them in a newsletter that went out to local residents in the area. This is how I met Ginger.

Ginger was 42 years old and had severe cerebral palsy that she had had since birth. All limbs effected. Her mother and father had taken care of Ginger all those years.

I was asked to be in the room when Ginger received her first speaking board. A speaking board is a board that is automated with pictures on it. For example if the person using the board wanted a drink there would be a picture of a glass of water and when the person pushed the picture a voice would say, "I would like a drink."

Communication, something most people take for granted. The ability to say what we want, and how we feel. Ginger had never been able to speak. In fact she had never been able to fully articulate anything to anyone with a voice. The only movement that Ginger could control was on one hand with her pointer finger. This made her a perfect candidate for a speaking board.

As I made my way down the hallway to the Speech Therapist office I wondered what it the world was this woman who had been trapped in a body that would not conform to her wishes for 42 years would want to say. Would she be angry at all those years locked in a prison of her own body? Would she be demanding? I gently knocked on the door. Kim our speech therapist opened the door and introduced me to Ginger's parents. Diane was a sweet woman with gray fuzzy hair, and thick glasses. She wore a flowered top and jeans with sneakers. She smiled and said, "Nice to meet you!" Ginger's father was seated with a John Deer hat on with bib overall's and dark glasses the kind that change color depending on whether they are outside or in. He got up shook my hand and sat back down and began to nervously fiddle with his hands. In the center of the room was a wheelchair. Pale with reddish brown hair and a smile that would light up a Christmas tree sat Ginger.

Diane spoke to Ginger and said, "Oh honey are you excited?" Ginger smiled bigger.

Kim went through some instructions on how the board operated. Then she looked at us all and said, "Don't be surprised if at first what Ginger says doesn't seem to make sense. This is all new to her and it will take time for her to learn how to maneuver this new instrument."

I found myself holding my breath. The whole room went silent. Kim placed the speaking board in Ginger's lap and asked her, Ok Ginger, here it is.

Ginger concentrated and squinted her eyes to see the board. She stuck her tongue out in concentration. Her index finger raised and hit the "I" button. The board sounded I. Ginger pulled her finger back and aimed again. The next word was "love". The board sounded love. Ginger began to cry. And with fierce determination she hit the word Mom, and quickly pulled back and hit the word Dad.

Ginger's first sentence with her speaking board. Her first words in 42 years were I love mom, and dad.

There was not a dry eye in that little room. As her mother was crying she began to say "I knew it. I knew she was in there. All those people telling me all those years that she couldn't understand. That she was dumb, but I knew I knew she was in there all along. I love you too baby."

How often do we take communication for granted? Who in your life needs to hear that they are loved? Ginger waited 42 years to say those words. We can say them but choose not to. How sad is that?

Love is a word that is over used I am told

Love is a word that is over used I am told. If it is said too often or in the same sentence with ice cream and flower's then it lessens the significance of the word, or so I am told. I would disagree.

I tell people I love them often. I remark about loving a certain flower or ice cream often. I mean it when I say I love. I don't have a lot of knowledge about many things but I do have knowledge of love.

There are so many hurting people in our world. So many who need love. I do not regret saying I love them. I ask God to give me love for people and He does, and when He does I tell people. There are people who are never told they are loved, but I pray that if that one person who needs to be told they are loved hears it from me that they believe it.

I'm not a fair weather friend either, if I say it I mean it, and when I say it I will continue to mean it. And when they ask, "Why do you say I love you so much?" I can tell them about the One who first loved me.

Sweaty, Stinky Stuff has overtaken my home.

Sweaty stinky stuff has overtaken my home. My home where I love to have nice smelling things like candles, cookies baking, and even fresh cleaning supplies smells are the ones I prefer. But nope I have a 12 and a 14 year old sons.

The oldest has his own smell. The dreaded soccer stink. I know this may sound far fetched but I think mom’s would agree, each sport has it’s own smell. Kendall’s shin guards smell like male cat urine. I was at a soccer game the other day and heard one of mom’s telling another mom that she had found the cure for the stinky shin guards, I leaned in to listen. She said, “Put them in the freezer.” Ummmmm…. Yea I don’t think I will be trying that one. The last thing I want is for my steak to taste like soccer shin guards!

Then we have the nice “gone to the lake all day” stink. This one I much prefer over the soccer stink. This one has an earthy tone to it.

Then there is the younger son’s walked home from school on an 85 degree day stink. Not as bad as soccer but worse than gone all day at the lake.

Here is the thing. I am learning to be grateful for the stinks. I have a boy healthy enough to play soccer. The memories we make at the lake I wouldn't trade for the world. And the younger son’s walked home from school in 85 degree heat stink is nice as well, because when he comes home and lays down on his bed and I take off his stinky socks and lay on his bed with him to hear all the details of his day, the stink goes away and is replaced by memories made.

There will be a time when my home won’t smell of boys anymore. They will be grown and gone and I bet I will long for the stinky days.

Diving board life

My life is like a kid jumping off a diving board right now. It is exciting, exhilarating, scary, and fun. I have multiple projects going on. They are all great things. I am coordinating a women's retreat, helping with a group of middle school girls, organizing a prayer team, being a soccer mom, and lots of daily stuff that everyone does.

When I take my boys to the pool that has a diving board at first they are a little timid about climbing the ladder, walking out on the board, and then taking the first step off the board into the water far, far below. Then their head pops up out of that water and they are running to get back up that ladder and do it again. That's how I feel. I just had my first successful team meeting for the women's retreat which will happen in 9 weeks, and today I am getting back on the board to plan for a Middle School Girls night at my house on Sunday. It's exciting, and fun and I pray I don't belly flop, but if I do I'll just do the same thing I tell my boys, "Ouch I bet that hurt, you okay? Alright well get back up there and do a Pencil this time!"

Jack

Jack and I are going to church camp together this coming weekend. This is my first time to go to one of my own kid's camps and serve as a leader. I am excited to do this with him. Jack and I have had a good summer together. Lots of good conversation  Lots of laughter. Lots of getting to know him and who he is becoming. And I must say I like him. He is a pleasure to get to know. 

Jack is my shy guy. He smiles a lot and when surrounded by people you may not even notice him at all. But if you stop in that crowd and take a look at the young man with reddish, brownish hair, freckles, and pretty blue eyes you would see a young man with a willingness to help a stranger, listen well to whoever is in charge, and you may see a little mischievous grin if he is plotting to prank someone.

He is a thinker. There have been many times when Jack and I were talking and I would ask him a question and he would say, "I'm not sure I'll have to think about it." And I would wonder if that was just a blanket answer but then a day or sometimes it's even been a week later he has come back to me and said, "Mom remember when you asked... well I have thought about it and here is what I think..." 

Jack is a ham. This is something that only people who really know Jack will find out about him. He LOVES to laugh, and play jokes on people. He loves to hear, watch, and experience comedy on many levels. He gets the giggles and if he finds something he thinks is hilarious he will replay it or say it, over and over and over again, until his older brother says, "Ok Jack it was funny the first time, now it's just over." 

Jack is an awesome helper with younger kids, and they ADORE him. I have noticed several people calling Jack their "Best Friend" Jack never corrects them or ignores them. He will smile and shyly look down. He can be very humble. I love that about him. All the little cousin's in the family love Jack and include him in their nightly prayers. He will play with them for hours at family get together's and is usually exhausted by the end but you never hear him complain.

I love knowing my kids. It is an intentional act and I'm not always good at it, but when those connections happen it is sweet. Sweet indeed!

Tears and Laughter

It has been awhile since I have written. Maybe you are thinking I haven’t written because I haven’t had anything to laugh or cry about. This would not be true. I have laughed and cried a lot in the last month.

I laughed when my son Jack had this look of horror on his face when he realized there was a vegetable on his plate. I mean seriously the kid looked like the plate had suddenly grown three heads and was calling him names like “Veggie hater”.

I laughed when I ran in the rain with no umbrella squealing like a little sissy girl.

I laughed when my friend Marilyn told me about walking the halls of the hospital after having surgery only to find out she had forgotten to double gown, so she was mooning people! I laughed pretty hard at that one!!

I cried. I cried when my friend lost her 18 year old son suddenly to death. I cried a lot. I am still crying.

I laughed at the funeral when someone told a funny story about her son eating Hershey Bar’s when he was little and getting caught.

Tears, and laughter, sometimes go hand in hand.

Marilyn, my mommie mentor

Today my sweet friend Marilyn is having heart surgery. I will never forget meeting her. I was in a Mom's Group at our church. I was new to the church and the area, did not have any friends yet. In walks this tall older woman who seemed to command the room. Oh and when she prayed! She prayed with such confidence!

One day after having gone to Mom's group for several weeks I notice Marilyn seemed to be following me as I went to pick up the boys from the nursery. I have my hands full and she offers to help. Then we got to talking  and she sweetly smiled at me and said the oddest thing. She said, "I am going to pursue you." I didn't quite know what to say to that so I didn't say anything. When my hubby got home later that evening I said, "Guess what honey? I am being pursued!" He didn't laugh. I thought it was funny. When I told him who it was then he laughed.

Pursue me she did. Not in a weird stalker kind of way, but rather in a loving friend, motherly mentor kind of way. We would meet for lunch, or coffee and just talk. She would give advice about the raising of boys. I would listen. She would pray and I would be in awe. She loved me when I needed to be loved.

She is a strong woman. She lives in Florida now but every time she makes a trip this way we always carve out time for each other. This last time she said, "Denise I am ready to go. If I die during this surgery it will be okay." I did not say a word because I knew if I spoke I'd cry. Yesterday she said to me, "My theme for today is I Surrender All." I quickly said, That is not my theme for today Marilyn, I am not ready to surrender you!

As I write this my sweet mommie mentor is having her surgery on a heart that is full of Jesus. If you are the praying type, I sure would appreciate a prayer being put up for my friend.

Humility

Humble: I tried to find an actual definition of humble/humility but the wording was confusing. So what does it mean to be humble? Humility is the ability to know and understand that you are not God. You don't have all the answers, you don't even have some of the answers, you don't have the master plan, you don't get to be the judge. Humility is being easily bent. As compared to stiff necked "I do it myself" mentality. Humility is the understanding that you don't do anything by yourself.

I love horses. I grew up on a horse farm. When trying to lead a horse if they are stubborn they will plant their feet and raise their head and stiffen their neck. Which makes it impossible to lead them, they don't go anywhere, they just stand there. If they are not stubborn they will relax drop their head and be easily lead. Sometimes the reason a horse will not be easily lead is because they don't trust the leader, or they can be scared of where they leader is taking them.

I want to be easily lead by my Lord. I don't want to be stubborn and stiff necked. I want to trust my leader. I want to be more humble.

The opposite of humility is pride. I'm sad to say that I have more than enough pride. Ugh! It is so ugly! I hate it! When I really sit and evaluate my past and current sins it all boils down to pride. Thinking I know better than the God of Universe, how absolutely preposterous is that???

I'm not the only one who has fallen into that trap. We see it in every character in the Bible (except Jesus who was perfectly humble), Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Peter, James, John, heck the whole nation of Israel! But here is the interesting thing. God blesses the humble.

In 2 Chronicles 12:6&7 "So the leaders of Israel, and the king humbled themselves, and they said, "The Lord is righteous." Now when the Lord saw that they humbled themselves the word of the Lord came to Shemaiah saying, "They have humbled themselves therefore I will not destroy them, but I will grant them some deliverance. My wrath will not be poured out on them."

Humility, what does it look like in your life? Are you like me and have a hard time giving up control? Are you like the stiff necked horse who plants their feet and doesn't trust the leader? Or are you easily bent, relaxed and pliable?

To Do List

To Do List:

• Make appointment for Jack to go see new orthodontist.
• Call dad
• Take the dog to get his nails trimmed
• Make dish to take to church graduation

These are only four items on my to do list for this week. There are at least 20 things that are not listed. None of them are bad things. All of them in fact are good things…if I don’t get the dogs nails trimmed soon he is going to be featured on one of those horrible Sara Mclachlan commercials with the singing “In the arms of the angels…”  yea you know the one! I digress. Which is what usually happens when I have a zillion things on my mind. I end up digressing all the time and never finishing anything!

I need my quiet time. Time to sit at Jesus’ feet and not think about that stinkin, never-ending to do list.  God knew what he was talking about when he commanded people to rest in Him. He knew what he was talking about when he said, “Be still and know that I am God.”

He knew it. I know it. And yet, how often do I obey? Is it easier to check off a list than it is to rest in Him? I had a friend say to me once when I questioned her about resting in God. She asked, “How do you do that?” She was genuine. How many of us are?

Do we even know how to rest in Him? God has not moved. He is not a God who is far away from His people. But we get so distracted with life and everything we think we have to do that we block Him out. How often is there silence in your home? The Holy Spirit is a gentleman. Most of the time He whispers. Are we too loud, too busy, to hear Him?

The Oldest and Boldest

The Oldest and Boldest

My oldest son Kendall has always also been my boldest.  When he was two years old as we were standing in line at the grocery store he told the lady in back of us, “Jesus got owie’s in his hands and his feet for all the people.” The lady smiled and Kendall just kept right on witnessing to this woman the whole time we were in line! And it wasn’t the only time!

When he was little we lived on a dead end street in the country. I would pack him and his brother in the double stroller and some of the neighbors and I would walk up and down the street for fellowship and exercise. Kendall was probably 3 and we were on our strolls. One of the neighbors kids was about 16 and he was little rough around the edges. On this particular day it was hot, and this fella’s face was really red. As we walked past his house Kendall said, “Hey, Hey you!” The kid came over and Kendall asked in a very serious voice, “Are you da debil?” translation: Are you the devil? His parents were standing near by and starting laughing and they responded, “Sometimes we think he is too, Kendall!”

Oh boy! Thank the Lord they laughed!

I am not bold by nature. I hate conflict and avoid it like the plague. I wish I had a little of Kendall’s boldness sometimes. 

What quality in your kids do you admire?

Embarrassing Moment

Embarrassing moments, we all have em. And if you don’t then your just lying. Some embarrassing moments can actually and usually turn into some of the funniest. It usually takes awhile before we find them funny but eventually if we are not too proud we will admit that it was pretty darn funny.

Okay when I was 17 I worked as a waitress in a very small town at a truck stop. There were only about 4 other waitress’s that worked my shift. There was Patsy an older lady that chewed gum and reminded me a lot of Flo from the sitcom Alice. Then there was Martha who was kind of a biker chick who took no prisoners, I was always a little afraid of her. Then there was Nan who took waitresing way to seriously if you ask me. Then there was my boss. My boss’s name was Norma. Norma was a very neat lady. Everyone in the town loved her. She died rather unexpectantly. We were all shocked and sad.

I of course wanted to attend the memorial service for Norma. Our town only had one funeral home so I heard the day that the funeral was going to be and got all dressed up and decided to go. I was very nervous. Norma’s death was very tragic. Her husband had shot her and so going into the service my mind was racing with thoughts like, “I wonder if the husband’s family will be here, I wonder if there will be fighting.” I just kept thinking okay I’ll just go in, do my duty and leave.

So I walk in and see Martha. I think oh good a familiar face! I made bee line for Martha. She looks up and says, “I am so glad you are here, I can’t believe you came.”

I said, “Yea I thought I should.”

She said, “Well my husband will be so glad.”

I thought, “hmm wonder why her husband will be glad, maybe he is related to Norma, it’s such a small town, everyone seems to be related to everyone.”

Martha then proceeds to take my arm and says, “Let me take you up to the casket.”

I am mortified. I have never been one who likes to go up to caskets, but what can I do? Martha the biker chick has my arm in a vice gripe. I am looking everywhere but at the casket on the way up to the casket and when we finally stop right in from of it I take a look and out of my mouth in slow motion I hear myself say

“That’s not Norma.”

Martha says, “of course its not, that is my father-in-law. You didn’t come here for him?”

“Ummm well yes of course I did, I’m so sorry for your father-in-law” And then walked briskly out the door only to find a sign that had an arrow with Norma’s name pointed to another room.  I did not go in.

I know it’s warped, and all but it’s one of those moments that can make me laugh no matter how bad my day is going, maybe if you’re warped too it gave you a chuckle.