Our family is different. I mean, you can look at us and see that. It's obvious that all of our children are not biological and, aside from the obviousness of that, we have a lot of them. I mean, who else do you know that has 6 kids aged 5 years and under? In about 8 weeks, we will. Can you think of anyone else?
Me neither.
Not that I think we are exceptional, just different. I mean, I know there are other families out there who have lots of kids. Like The Duggars and Jon and Kate and this one (which I've never even watched). And countless more that go unrecognized and unpublished.
I know that having 6 children isn't something that we thought up. I mean, come on people, ask your grandparents how many siblings they have and most likely the answer is 3 or more. But today, in our American culture, more than 3 kids is a lot.
And, now that I'm finished with the puking part of this pregnancy, dare I breathe to anyone that I'm so flippin' excited about this new baby that I can hardly contain myself? Dare I breathe that I am also sad that this pregnancy is almost over? Dare I breathe that I'm already thinking about the next time I might get pregnant?
I know, insane right?
I don't claim to have the most well-behaved children. I don't claim to know everything about this thing called Parenting. Heck, I don't even claim to be that extraordinary of a mother. But, I do claim to love Christ so much that my life goal is to be obedient.
Obedient to what Luke and I feel God has placed within our hearts. Obedient to the call that we will allow Him to lead us in the area of how many children we have and where they come from. And, to most people, that thinking sounds crazy.
I mean, afterall, who are we trying to be like, The Duggars?
Um...no. Because as much as I think the Duggars are good people, surrendered to God's call on their life, can I just say that I don't know if I could handle being a mother to 19 children? Holy moly. And, that is my opinion after reading their book (which is great, by the way, especially if you enjoy reading about how other families function on a daily basis).
Still. If that's what God called us to (19 kids and such), I would try my best to be obedient and listen. And if God called us to have or adopt no more children, then I would try my best to be obedient and listen.
Because, what I have found to be true is that obedience to God is costly and hard and difficult. But, above and beyond that it is joyful and exciting and humbling and blessed. It's both sides of a very unique coin and with the blessings and joy and excitement and learning comes hardships and persecution and tears.
For the most part, I can handle the persecution. For the most part, I can handle the hardships. For the most part, I can handle knowing that when Luke and I walk through the church parking lot, with all 5 kids in tow and my very pregnant belly sticking out, people are looking at us and, most likely, talking about us. For the most part, I can handle being "those Jesus people" in the family with "all those kids."
I can handle the comments we will get when we begin driving a 15 passenger van in the near future. I can handle the comments and remarks and looks that say "oh, I could NEVER have so many kids." For the most part, it's bearable. After all, this is OUR calling of obedience, not theirs. I don't expect everyone else to "get" what God has called us to.
But somedays it's just too much. Sometimes, when it comes from people you love, it hurts more than anything you could imagine. Sometimes, it feels like everyday is an uphill battle to follow the One who you know is lighting your path.
Sometimes it feels like the people who should be rallying for you are waiting to watch you fail. Sometimes it feels like the ones who should be loving and holding and cherishing these growing times with you are the ones who salt your wounds and refuse to hear the cries of your heart.
It's painful and, often, it's more than my heart can bear.
And that's when I get stuck. That's when I look around and wonder why God chose this path for us. That's when I dig deeper and know that a life surrendered to Him is a one that also includes scrutiny, pain and hurt.
Over the last two years, I've watched people we care about back peddle out of our lives for various reason. It's painful to know that because you've chosen to follow God's calling, to be obedient, that others find you too messy. It hurts to have folks who love you also seem to wait in the wings for when you're vulnerable, then they attack.
BUT.
God is good. His mercy is worth this pain. His love is enough. And though it may be difficult, I choose to continue to seek His desires. I choose to continue to live a life that looks crazy to the people around me. I choose to obey Him, nomatter the cost.
Because with that choice comes the richest blessings I could ever imagine. With that choice comes joy, happiness and life worth being shared. With that choice comes a testament to the truth of what He has done for us.
And I pray, that anyone who sees our crazy life, anyone who wonders why we do what we do, anyone who crinkles their forehead or takes a second look at us would only see one thing.
Him.
Not our mistakes. Not our flaws. Not our own selfishness.
Just Him.
I choose just Him.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Stomach Bugs, Similes and Toe Slaughtering
What a LONG weekend we had. And I don't mean that in a good way. On Thursday, I went to pick up Aaron from his class at Community Bible Study only to find him asleep in his teacher's arms.
Not good.
Aaron is fiercely independent and rarely allows for a drive-by-hugging, much less excessive cuddles or more-than-a-split-second holding session that would enable him get comfortable enough to nap.
It's unheard of.
When he refused lunch, I knew something serious was up. So his temp of 102.6 came as no shock to me when I checked it less than an hour later.
Then, Lucas got diarrhea. And, Ashlee puked before she went to bed.
Earlier that afternoon, I suspected what was happening and sent Elizabeth to my Mom's. Good move on my part. I'd venture to say it has now earned me Mom of 2009 status.
You see, everyone who stayed in our home got the stomach virus. Everyone, myself included, except my husband, praise God! We surely needed someone to care for all of us. Lucas continued with the diarrhea and Ashlee just the one round of puking. Then Baby Girl got the pukes and Aaron's fever continued and he had some interesting diapers.
It hit me like a ton of bricks around 2:00am on Saturday morning and I kept NO LIQUID in my body until almost 3:30pm Saturday afternoon.
It was a rough day, y'all. At noon I called my midwife to ask about dehydration and secretly hoped she'd offer me an epidural. The cramping was incessant.
8 hours later, it was all becoming a distant memory. Isn't that amazing? Saturday evening Elizabeth came home (after 3 days at my Mom's house) and by Sunday morning I felt fine. We all did.
Wow, I got a little long-winded on that part. The point in me telling you all of that is to say that I didn't get much time with my oldest girl this weekend. With me toilet hovering and her being on a Mom-imposed ban from our home, I was craving some time with my funny, sweet and thoughtful princess.
So, last night we had a nail party. Just the two of us. We've had them before but this one was super special. We agreed that if I painted Elizabeth's toes, she could paint mine. It started off innocent.
Look at that grin. So stinkin' proud of herself. In all honesty, she did pretty well those first 2 toes. But, it was all downhill from there.
By the time she moved onto my 2nd foot, I was beginning to wonder if it would look better if I just went outside and killed a small animal with my bare feet. But, it wasn't for lack of concentration. Focus was her first name.
After a second coat of polish on each foot, her work was complete. Except for a few "touch ups" where she accidentally got "a little" polish on my skin.
See how she's wiping off my 2nd toe. There, removing that little spot should finish it up nicely. Now, for a side by side.
Please note that the smear of polish you see on Elizabeth's right foot was caused by her overwhelming desire to see the photo I'd just taken of my own foot. Unfortunately, she learned the hard way that wiping your foot across the toe of your client's very wet nail makes a lasting impression. And not in a good way.
45 minutes later my toes were moving into the drying phase. To say that I had a lot of polish on my toes would be like saying that the north pole is balmy. And to be honest, I sure hope that the metaphor (or is that a simile) that I just used made sense and adequately conveyed to you that my toes had a WHOLE LOT OF POLISH on them.
Because they did. Gobs of it. In fact, as I write this post at now-near midnight, I think they may all be dry. She polished them at 8:15pm.
But, despite the bottle of polish she used and despite the amount of polish remover I will have to use tomorrow to "touch up" my feet, it was so worth it.
Spending time with her and allowing her to make my feet look like this week's find on an episode of CSI: was as amazing as finding a $1,000 bill in a pair of jeans you've not worn in 2 years.
See, that simile was meant to show you that it was rare and special. Because $1,000 bills are rare (or maybe even non-existent) and wearing jeans you haven't fit into in 2 years is special.
Unless of course they're your fat jeans, then you'd need the $1,000 to prove to yourself that gaining all that weight was actually a financial investment. Or you could just go buy yourself a lot of chocolate. Whatever you need to do to justify yourself.
My point is, my feet look terrible but my heart is full and that's rare and special no matter who you are.
Not good.
Aaron is fiercely independent and rarely allows for a drive-by-hugging, much less excessive cuddles or more-than-a-split-second holding session that would enable him get comfortable enough to nap.
It's unheard of.
When he refused lunch, I knew something serious was up. So his temp of 102.6 came as no shock to me when I checked it less than an hour later.
Then, Lucas got diarrhea. And, Ashlee puked before she went to bed.
Earlier that afternoon, I suspected what was happening and sent Elizabeth to my Mom's. Good move on my part. I'd venture to say it has now earned me Mom of 2009 status.
You see, everyone who stayed in our home got the stomach virus. Everyone, myself included, except my husband, praise God! We surely needed someone to care for all of us. Lucas continued with the diarrhea and Ashlee just the one round of puking. Then Baby Girl got the pukes and Aaron's fever continued and he had some interesting diapers.
It hit me like a ton of bricks around 2:00am on Saturday morning and I kept NO LIQUID in my body until almost 3:30pm Saturday afternoon.
It was a rough day, y'all. At noon I called my midwife to ask about dehydration and secretly hoped she'd offer me an epidural. The cramping was incessant.
8 hours later, it was all becoming a distant memory. Isn't that amazing? Saturday evening Elizabeth came home (after 3 days at my Mom's house) and by Sunday morning I felt fine. We all did.
Wow, I got a little long-winded on that part. The point in me telling you all of that is to say that I didn't get much time with my oldest girl this weekend. With me toilet hovering and her being on a Mom-imposed ban from our home, I was craving some time with my funny, sweet and thoughtful princess.
So, last night we had a nail party. Just the two of us. We've had them before but this one was super special. We agreed that if I painted Elizabeth's toes, she could paint mine. It started off innocent.
Look at that grin. So stinkin' proud of herself. In all honesty, she did pretty well those first 2 toes. But, it was all downhill from there.
By the time she moved onto my 2nd foot, I was beginning to wonder if it would look better if I just went outside and killed a small animal with my bare feet. But, it wasn't for lack of concentration. Focus was her first name.
After a second coat of polish on each foot, her work was complete. Except for a few "touch ups" where she accidentally got "a little" polish on my skin.
See how she's wiping off my 2nd toe. There, removing that little spot should finish it up nicely. Now, for a side by side.
Please note that the smear of polish you see on Elizabeth's right foot was caused by her overwhelming desire to see the photo I'd just taken of my own foot. Unfortunately, she learned the hard way that wiping your foot across the toe of your client's very wet nail makes a lasting impression. And not in a good way.45 minutes later my toes were moving into the drying phase. To say that I had a lot of polish on my toes would be like saying that the north pole is balmy. And to be honest, I sure hope that the metaphor (or is that a simile) that I just used made sense and adequately conveyed to you that my toes had a WHOLE LOT OF POLISH on them.
Because they did. Gobs of it. In fact, as I write this post at now-near midnight, I think they may all be dry. She polished them at 8:15pm.
But, despite the bottle of polish she used and despite the amount of polish remover I will have to use tomorrow to "touch up" my feet, it was so worth it.
Spending time with her and allowing her to make my feet look like this week's find on an episode of CSI: was as amazing as finding a $1,000 bill in a pair of jeans you've not worn in 2 years.
See, that simile was meant to show you that it was rare and special. Because $1,000 bills are rare (or maybe even non-existent) and wearing jeans you haven't fit into in 2 years is special.
Unless of course they're your fat jeans, then you'd need the $1,000 to prove to yourself that gaining all that weight was actually a financial investment. Or you could just go buy yourself a lot of chocolate. Whatever you need to do to justify yourself.
My point is, my feet look terrible but my heart is full and that's rare and special no matter who you are.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Das Not Funny! Friday: Welcome to 2010
I bet you all were beginning to wonder if I had forgotten all about Das Not Funny! Friday. Well, I have NOT! In fact, so many hilarious things have happened in the last few weeks that this might be the longest Das Not Funny! Friday post in history. Maybe. If I can remember where I saved them all.
New to Das Not Funny! Friday? Wanna know what it's all about and why I blog about it? Click here for details.
Alrighty peeps, I'm telling you, these things just had me cracking up. Most of the time my laughter could not even be contained. Pure hilarity I tell you. I hope they make you laugh as much as they did me!
Aaron has a terrible habit of refusing to keep his feet off of the table while we eat. He puts his feet up there, we move them down and tell him "NO!" He looks at us, spitefully, and places them back on the table. After hearing me correct Aaron one too many times, Luke crosses the kitchen, grabs something to "spank" Aaron with and comes over to the table and pops Aaron on the exposed, table-resting foot with.....(are you ready for this?).....a Barbie leg.
Not an entire Barbie with just the leg extended for optimal spanking.
Nope.
A random, detached Barbie leg just like this one:
I say "just like" because I think we threw the original Barbie leg/spanker away. Lucky for Annnnnnyway....moving right along.....
Baby Girl has the foulest smelling diapers I've ever encountered. How a 19 pound someone can have such a horrid stench is beyond me. She can make grown men gag and it is not uncommon for her to crawl into another room and poop and me smell it without even entering into her presence.
It's bad y'all.
One night Ashlee gets out of bed and comes to our room. Our door creeps open and she says, "Mom. [Baby Girl] poopt."
"Okay honey," I say, "I'll be right there to change her. Go back to bed, okay?"
She obeys and shuts our door. About 90 seconds later our door reopens.
"Mommy," Ashlee says, "my woom wealwe stinks and now, I can't go to sweep."
-------
Driving home one afternoon, we stop at an intersection just in time to see an ambulance, with sirens blaring, cross in front of us.
"Look Mom!" Lucas yells, "A firebus!"
"No, baby," I correct, "that's an ambulance."
"No! A firebus!" Lucas insists.
"No sweetie, that was an ambulance. It's going to help someone who is sick." I say.
"Yeah," Elizabeth inserts, "someone is hurt and blooding everywhere or got smashed by their car. Or, their leg fell off."
Hummmm.....maybe that explains the Barbie leg.
-------
Earlier this week, while I was at an OB check up our babysitter texts me the following:
Lucas: "Why did God make this house?"
Elizabeth: "He didn't. He just told other people to make it. Then we put all this stuff in it. But God made the doors. And Aaron."
------
Last night 3 of the 5 children starting coming down with some sort of stomach/fever virus. After Ashlee finished puking into the toilet and as I was wiping off her face she states, breathlessly,
"Oh. Da baby's makin' me grow up."
(If you can't figure it out, Lucas and Ashlee both say "grow up" for "throw up." Good to know hat this pregnancy has had a lasting impression on my 3 year old daughter.)
Alrighty peeps, now it's your turn if you wish you play along. All you've gotta do is write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post and then enter your info into MckLinky. Then, visit and laugh and have a great start to your weekend.
I'm hoping ours turns into a good one and NOT one filled with fevers and squirts and "growin' up" as last night's behaviors seemed to indicate.
Happy Friday Y'all.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Brown Hairy Bucky Eager Beaver
I thought that title might get your attention. ;) I need your help. But first of all, a little background info.
In the past, when Luke and I were choosing names for our children it sort of came easily. With Elizabeth I had just finished reading the book of Luke and I was struck with the faithfulness of Elizabeth (John the Baptist's mother). Thus, Elizabeth.
Her middle name is Grace because 1) I had just experienced the life changing Grace of God in the form of a new relationship with Christ. And 2) We really liked it.
With the twins it was easy because once we found out they were boy/girl twins, we had the boy name solidified. Lucas has Luke's name. Easy peasy.
And, I think the name Ashlee is just beautiful. My former middle name (before I took my maiden name as my middle name) was Lee so that is why we went with Ashlee rather than Ashley. Ashlee's middle name is Faith.
We chose Aaron's name because we liked the name Aaron (plus it was a family name on my side) and his middle name, Thomas, has special significance to us with our journey to and through fostering.
Baby Girl's first name is one I've always liked (I'm hoping to be able to reveal it to you all SOON when she will be, hopefully, legally free for adoption. We are set to file her adoption on January 15th!! Then, there will be a 10 day waiting period - which usually stretches beyond 10 days - so hopefully by February 1st she'll be legal!) and her middle name will be Hope.
So for our girls their middle names are Grace, Faith and Hope. Sorta fruit-of-the-spirit-ish. That means if Baby #6 is a girl, then we would most likely stick with the fruit of the spirit-ish theme and her middle name will be Joy.
Geesh, can you imagine what we will do if we have another baby girl and continue with this theme? I can just picture myself yelling out the front door to my yard-frolicking children, "Self-Control Beaver! It's time to come in the house!" Er....or I can't imagine that.
Anyway, I feel like we pretty much have a couple solid girl names nailed down, with the middle name being Joy. If you're looking for me to spill the first-name beans here, you can keep looking. Luke and I like totorture surprise our friends and family and tell our birth childrens' names upon their arrival. My mom loathes this choice.
As for boy names, we keep coming up empty handed. I like the middle name Jesse because it is my grandfather's name (this granfather, my "Paw" if you're wondering and yes, that is whom I am named after) but for the life of us, we cannot come up with a first name that goes well with Jesse as a middle name and Beaver as a last name.
We have a few mediocre options but with the time a ticking (did you see that counter on the top-left sidebar...does that say 61ish days to go? Sweet cider that's soon!) I am feeling the pressure to have a couple solid name choices in my pocket.
SO here is where I need your input. What names can you think of that would be good for Baby #6 if he is a boy?
Here's the criteria:
1A) If you know me well enough IRL or even via this blog to choose a name it should have some sort of significance. It doesn't have to be deep, just significant. For example, I have blogged quite a bit about the book of Jeremiah. So that could be significant enough. Then, choose an alternate middle name.
or
1B) It can be a random name that goes well with Jesse, since that already has significance and we are struggling to find a first name.
2) It MUST go nicely with the last name Beaver (duh!). I realize there is a significant temptation to submit to me the name "Brown" or "Hairy" or "Bucky" but please refrain. I mean, come on people, it's not like I haven't heard them ALL before.
If you submit a name and we end up choosing it, I wish I could tell you that you would win some sort of a fancy prize but, truth be told, you'll just get the joy of boasting about your name entry sometime mid-March when Baby #6 makes his or her appearance.
SO, let the name game begin. I'm an Eager Beaver to see what you come up with!
In the past, when Luke and I were choosing names for our children it sort of came easily. With Elizabeth I had just finished reading the book of Luke and I was struck with the faithfulness of Elizabeth (John the Baptist's mother). Thus, Elizabeth.
Her middle name is Grace because 1) I had just experienced the life changing Grace of God in the form of a new relationship with Christ. And 2) We really liked it.
With the twins it was easy because once we found out they were boy/girl twins, we had the boy name solidified. Lucas has Luke's name. Easy peasy.
And, I think the name Ashlee is just beautiful. My former middle name (before I took my maiden name as my middle name) was Lee so that is why we went with Ashlee rather than Ashley. Ashlee's middle name is Faith.
We chose Aaron's name because we liked the name Aaron (plus it was a family name on my side) and his middle name, Thomas, has special significance to us with our journey to and through fostering.
Baby Girl's first name is one I've always liked (I'm hoping to be able to reveal it to you all SOON when she will be, hopefully, legally free for adoption. We are set to file her adoption on January 15th!! Then, there will be a 10 day waiting period - which usually stretches beyond 10 days - so hopefully by February 1st she'll be legal!) and her middle name will be Hope.
So for our girls their middle names are Grace, Faith and Hope. Sorta fruit-of-the-spirit-ish. That means if Baby #6 is a girl, then we would most likely stick with the fruit of the spirit-ish theme and her middle name will be Joy.
Geesh, can you imagine what we will do if we have another baby girl and continue with this theme? I can just picture myself yelling out the front door to my yard-frolicking children, "Self-Control Beaver! It's time to come in the house!" Er....or I can't imagine that.
Anyway, I feel like we pretty much have a couple solid girl names nailed down, with the middle name being Joy. If you're looking for me to spill the first-name beans here, you can keep looking. Luke and I like to
As for boy names, we keep coming up empty handed. I like the middle name Jesse because it is my grandfather's name (this granfather, my "Paw" if you're wondering and yes, that is whom I am named after) but for the life of us, we cannot come up with a first name that goes well with Jesse as a middle name and Beaver as a last name.
We have a few mediocre options but with the time a ticking (did you see that counter on the top-left sidebar...does that say 61ish days to go? Sweet cider that's soon!) I am feeling the pressure to have a couple solid name choices in my pocket.
SO here is where I need your input. What names can you think of that would be good for Baby #6 if he is a boy?
Here's the criteria:
1A) If you know me well enough IRL or even via this blog to choose a name it should have some sort of significance. It doesn't have to be deep, just significant. For example, I have blogged quite a bit about the book of Jeremiah. So that could be significant enough. Then, choose an alternate middle name.
or
1B) It can be a random name that goes well with Jesse, since that already has significance and we are struggling to find a first name.
2) It MUST go nicely with the last name Beaver (duh!). I realize there is a significant temptation to submit to me the name "Brown" or "Hairy" or "Bucky" but please refrain. I mean, come on people, it's not like I haven't heard them ALL before.
If you submit a name and we end up choosing it, I wish I could tell you that you would win some sort of a fancy prize but, truth be told, you'll just get the joy of boasting about your name entry sometime mid-March when Baby #6 makes his or her appearance.
SO, let the name game begin. I'm an Eager Beaver to see what you come up with!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Spreading noses good cheer like buttah
Here it is, January 4th. I should probably be blogging about a Christmas recap or telling my resolutions for the New Year. But honestly, I'm so done with the holidays.
I mean, done. D.O.N.E.
I am ready for our Christmas tree and decorations to be put away and this Christmas to be one written and sealed in the books and only opened many years from now when I can actually find some humor in it. Today is not the day for me to find that humor, so I choose to move on.
Actually, there are a few things that were pretty humorous in regards to our trip out of town. One of them being that I apparently packed my suitcase in the dark. On the Sunday morning that we were out of town, as I prepared to go to church, I dug through mine and Luke's bag to find the only pair of black shoes I packed to go with my black and white outfit that I planned on wearing to church that day and the Christmas Eve service the following Thursday.
Instead, I pulled out this "pair" of "black" shoes.
Oh yes I'm serious.
So much for my fancy black outfit. Instead, I wore jeans I think and a different pair of brown shoes for which I forgot to pack any socks other than white athletic socks. So by 12:00pm my feet smelled like a middle school boy's locker.
I should have heeded the shoe gods' advice and realized that the rest of the trip would be downhill from there.
**For the record, that was a reenacted photo. I actually think I packed both right footed shoes, but for the sake of time and laziness I grabbed the first two of the same foot I could find. Sue me. And, in case you can't tell that shoe on the left is brown. Notsomuch for the one on the right. Have mercy.
In other news, not at all related to Christmas, my nose is growing. Spreading actually. It's becoming massive and threatening to overtake my cheeks. It happened when I was pregnant with Elizabeth, though I failed (somehow) to recognize/accept it. And, Lordhavemercy, with the twins my nose became so big I'm surprised that Luke even recognized me. Thank goodness I never got pulled over those last 3 months of the twins' pregnancy. I would have probably gotten arrested for driving with a fake license or something.
Can't you just see that headline?
Woman Claims That Her Unborn Twins Caused Her To Drive With Someone Else's License
Never say never people. We do live in America, and I do live in the south. All things are possible.
Anyway, in an attempt to prove my nose spreading point, I almost just now posted a picture of myself. But I refuse. Just take my word for it, IT'S MASSIVE.
Even my BFF didn't deny the fact that it was getting bigger. That's friendship folks. When your own husband refuses to acknowledge a specific question, yet your best friend takes it head on and says, "Yeah. It is!" That's quality, heaven-made friendship people. The best part is that I didn't even get offended.
Okay, so now I'm feeling all guilty about not even addressing the whole Christmas thing, so I'll end with a photo recap of our last 2.5 weeks.
Happy New Year Y'all. May 2010 be as smooth as room temperature buttah. Or something like that.
I mean, done. D.O.N.E.
I am ready for our Christmas tree and decorations to be put away and this Christmas to be one written and sealed in the books and only opened many years from now when I can actually find some humor in it. Today is not the day for me to find that humor, so I choose to move on.
Actually, there are a few things that were pretty humorous in regards to our trip out of town. One of them being that I apparently packed my suitcase in the dark. On the Sunday morning that we were out of town, as I prepared to go to church, I dug through mine and Luke's bag to find the only pair of black shoes I packed to go with my black and white outfit that I planned on wearing to church that day and the Christmas Eve service the following Thursday.
Instead, I pulled out this "pair" of "black" shoes.
Oh yes I'm serious.So much for my fancy black outfit. Instead, I wore jeans I think and a different pair of brown shoes for which I forgot to pack any socks other than white athletic socks. So by 12:00pm my feet smelled like a middle school boy's locker.
I should have heeded the shoe gods' advice and realized that the rest of the trip would be downhill from there.
**For the record, that was a reenacted photo. I actually think I packed both right footed shoes, but for the sake of time and laziness I grabbed the first two of the same foot I could find. Sue me. And, in case you can't tell that shoe on the left is brown. Notsomuch for the one on the right. Have mercy.
In other news, not at all related to Christmas, my nose is growing. Spreading actually. It's becoming massive and threatening to overtake my cheeks. It happened when I was pregnant with Elizabeth, though I failed (somehow) to recognize/accept it. And, Lordhavemercy, with the twins my nose became so big I'm surprised that Luke even recognized me. Thank goodness I never got pulled over those last 3 months of the twins' pregnancy. I would have probably gotten arrested for driving with a fake license or something.
Can't you just see that headline?
Woman Claims That Her Unborn Twins Caused Her To Drive With Someone Else's License
Never say never people. We do live in America, and I do live in the south. All things are possible.
Anyway, in an attempt to prove my nose spreading point, I almost just now posted a picture of myself. But I refuse. Just take my word for it, IT'S MASSIVE.
Even my BFF didn't deny the fact that it was getting bigger. That's friendship folks. When your own husband refuses to acknowledge a specific question, yet your best friend takes it head on and says, "Yeah. It is!" That's quality, heaven-made friendship people. The best part is that I didn't even get offended.
Okay, so now I'm feeling all guilty about not even addressing the whole Christmas thing, so I'll end with a photo recap of our last 2.5 weeks.
Happy New Year Y'all. May 2010 be as smooth as room temperature buttah. Or something like that.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
He's good holy to me
Seven years ago today I was sipping tropical drinks, pool-side in Cancun preparing to welcome in 2003. I had a shiny new wedding band on my finger and my handsome, new husband by my side. We had just experienced a 3 day whirlwind wedding weekend. I felt on top of the world.
Could it seriously get any better?
Little did I know that it could and, because of God's grace, it would.
You see, if you've read our story, you know that at this newly-married point in my life, an intimate relationship with Christ was something that I did not possess. In fact, I felt confident that because Luke and I had made it through some pretty tough times on our own, we really didn't need anything or anyone else helping us out.
We rung in 2003 with smiles on our faces and hope for our future. I am so glad that God's plans for our marriage were so much better than our plans for our marriage. I'm so very, very glad.
Seven years later I think about the naive, young wife that stood in front of a crowded church and promised to love, honor and obey the man in front of her. And today, I am so blessed by the handsome, not-so-new husband I continue to be paired with. I've blogged much about Luke but what I would like to add here is above anything I have ever realized before. About 2 weeks ago, while were in in the midst of a vacation that proved to be incredibly stressful, I had never thought of my husband in this way. And since this revelation, I have yet to be able to see him as anything else.
It is often that people see me with all of our children and they ask, "Girl, how do you do it?" While I think that there are many answers to this question, my most common two responses are,
"God gives you what you need."
and
"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively good to me."
But now, I realize that I need to have a change in my reference of my husband. He is not excessively good to me. Rather, he is excessively HOLY to me. There is a huge difference and if you're still with me, I'd like to explain.
According to Ephesians 5 a wife is called to submit to her husband as the head of the home. In turn, a husband is commanded to "love your wife, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her" and to "love your wife as your own body."
I think so often we (I) get so hung up on the submit part that I gloss over God's command for husbands. Can I just tell you that it is remarkably easy to submit to a man who is loving you as himself? As his own flesh?
It is. Let me show you by examples in action.
When Luke and I run out of contact solution and we are down to 1 final bottle, after he uses it in the morning he will move the contact solution across the bathroom so that it is beside my sink when I'm ready for it.
When I buy new flavored creamer for my coffee, Luke will remove the paper seal under the cap when he pours his own coffee in the morning. Luke doesn't used flavored coffee creamer. He does this just for me.
When we were driving into Memphis 2 weeks ago and I just knew that I was right in my directing him to take a "shorter" route through his hometown, he quietly obliged me and allowed us to take a one hour detour through the most interesting parts of town. All because he didn't want to argue with me after 15.5 hours in the car.
He turns the coffee pot back on before he leaves so that it won't automatically shut off on me and I'm left with cold coffee.
He allows me to be mean and nasty and rude to him and then offers to rub my back because he can see I've had a bad day.
He forgives quickly often before I ever even ask.
He's slow to anger and prays for me fervently.
There is so much more but I think you're getting the picture. He loves me like his own flesh. He gives of himself just as Christ gave of himself for his church.
He's more than good to me. He's HOLY to me.
Even though I don't deserve it. Even though I'm selfish. Even though I am rarely holy back.
And since I've realized just how holy my husband is toward me I see it everywhere, in all that he does. And I realize that in the last seven years I have blessed by a man who often goes unrecognized in the little things. I have been paired with a man who desires to love me despite my unworthiness of his love.
And, most importantly, I have realized that when people ask me, "How do you do it?" my new response will most surely have to be,
"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively HOLY to me."
Happy 7th Anniversary Luke! I love you beyond anything I am capable of understanding.
Could it seriously get any better?
Little did I know that it could and, because of God's grace, it would.
You see, if you've read our story, you know that at this newly-married point in my life, an intimate relationship with Christ was something that I did not possess. In fact, I felt confident that because Luke and I had made it through some pretty tough times on our own, we really didn't need anything or anyone else helping us out.
We rung in 2003 with smiles on our faces and hope for our future. I am so glad that God's plans for our marriage were so much better than our plans for our marriage. I'm so very, very glad.Seven years later I think about the naive, young wife that stood in front of a crowded church and promised to love, honor and obey the man in front of her. And today, I am so blessed by the handsome, not-so-new husband I continue to be paired with. I've blogged much about Luke but what I would like to add here is above anything I have ever realized before. About 2 weeks ago, while were in in the midst of a vacation that proved to be incredibly stressful, I had never thought of my husband in this way. And since this revelation, I have yet to be able to see him as anything else.
It is often that people see me with all of our children and they ask, "Girl, how do you do it?" While I think that there are many answers to this question, my most common two responses are,
"God gives you what you need."
and
"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively good to me."
But now, I realize that I need to have a change in my reference of my husband. He is not excessively good to me. Rather, he is excessively HOLY to me. There is a huge difference and if you're still with me, I'd like to explain.
According to Ephesians 5 a wife is called to submit to her husband as the head of the home. In turn, a husband is commanded to "love your wife, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her" and to "love your wife as your own body."
I think so often we (I) get so hung up on the submit part that I gloss over God's command for husbands. Can I just tell you that it is remarkably easy to submit to a man who is loving you as himself? As his own flesh?
It is. Let me show you by examples in action.
When Luke and I run out of contact solution and we are down to 1 final bottle, after he uses it in the morning he will move the contact solution across the bathroom so that it is beside my sink when I'm ready for it.
When I buy new flavored creamer for my coffee, Luke will remove the paper seal under the cap when he pours his own coffee in the morning. Luke doesn't used flavored coffee creamer. He does this just for me.
When we were driving into Memphis 2 weeks ago and I just knew that I was right in my directing him to take a "shorter" route through his hometown, he quietly obliged me and allowed us to take a one hour detour through the most interesting parts of town. All because he didn't want to argue with me after 15.5 hours in the car.
He turns the coffee pot back on before he leaves so that it won't automatically shut off on me and I'm left with cold coffee.
He allows me to be mean and nasty and rude to him and then offers to rub my back because he can see I've had a bad day.
He forgives quickly often before I ever even ask.
He's slow to anger and prays for me fervently.
There is so much more but I think you're getting the picture. He loves me like his own flesh. He gives of himself just as Christ gave of himself for his church.
He's more than good to me. He's HOLY to me.
Even though I don't deserve it. Even though I'm selfish. Even though I am rarely holy back.
And since I've realized just how holy my husband is toward me I see it everywhere, in all that he does. And I realize that in the last seven years I have blessed by a man who often goes unrecognized in the little things. I have been paired with a man who desires to love me despite my unworthiness of his love.
And, most importantly, I have realized that when people ask me, "How do you do it?" my new response will most surely have to be,
"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively HOLY to me."
Happy 7th Anniversary Luke! I love you beyond anything I am capable of understanding.
Mommas (Oldest) Boy
My oldest boy,
You frustrate the snot out of me. You can drive me to depths of insanity that I never thought possible. Somedays, you just get under my skin, I know of no other way to say it.
HOWEVER (and that's a HUGE however) you are often the sweetest part of my day.
Your deep hugs, tender kisses and hysterical silliness make my heart swell with so much love and sometimes I think my chest might burst from all that it is holding inside.
You're goofy...
and you can make your sisters and brother laugh like no one else. I continue to pray that you will grow into the man that God has designed you to be. I pray that you love Him, adore Him and desire to serve Him with your whole heart, just like your Daddy.
And in the meantime, I will continue to pray that my patience with you is long, my love for you is abundantly clear and my frustrations with you are far overshadowed by this love that I hold for you, deep within my soul.
I love you sweet boy,
Momma
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Home and some randomness for you
We are home. I know that I haven't posted yet, but today was spent running errands and wrapping Christmas presents.
Yes, you read that right. WRAPPING Christmas presents. We chose not to take our gifts for the kids on vacation but rather to wait until we got back to "do" Christmas. Well, no magic elf came to my house and wrapped the unwrapped presents I had previously purchased for our children.
So, most likely Friday morning, we will kick off 2010 with our own little family Christmas. I'm excited because the Big Kids are just old enough to really get excited and rip into paper and the "babies" get the biggest kick out of the simplest toy.
Speaking of toys. Guess what I got for Christmas this year?....
Sweet Jesus THANK YOU!
Thanks to my amazingly generous parents, tons of photos of my children will be gracing this blog very, very soon. And, hopefully, they will be GOOD photos. I'm even reading the owners manual on the thing.
Dork. I know.
Anyway, our travels were eventful. We spent lots of time riding horses and playing with friends and cousins and in new places. For the drive home Luke and I decided that we would stop and stay with his Dad just outside of Memphis. Then, we decided that we'd drive to Nashville and stop there. Then, when we got to Nashville, we decided to just keep truckin' and we ended up driving all the way through the night.
11.5 hours rather than 16.5 hours. Thankyouverymuch.
Sure, Luke and I were exhausted when we pulled into our garage at 7:00am on Saturday morning. But, the kids all climbed into their respective beds (and cribs) and Luke and I did the same and we all slept until just past 11:00am.
After a 2 hour nap on Sunday, we were all refreshed and feeling like ourselves.
I hope that your Christmases were lovely and that you made many memories while celebrating the birth of Jesus. We will probably never, ever go out of town for Christmas again.
EVER.
It was a long trip and crazy-chaotic and completely exhausting. But, we did it and saw family and now I'm glad we are home.
I'll try to post some photos soon (you know, the ones I've taken with my NEW camera) and hopefully post about some lessons I learned over this Christmas season. They were interesting ones to say the very least. VERY interesting.
I hear Baby Girl coughing and Aaron is finishing up a bath (the big kids are at my parents' house today) and so I'd better go wash and cuddle my little ones while I have the chance.
TEN short weeks until #6's expected appearance...which probably means 12 more weeks for me.
Still TWO MONTHS AWAY. Holy moly. I think I need to nest.
Yes, you read that right. WRAPPING Christmas presents. We chose not to take our gifts for the kids on vacation but rather to wait until we got back to "do" Christmas. Well, no magic elf came to my house and wrapped the unwrapped presents I had previously purchased for our children.
So, most likely Friday morning, we will kick off 2010 with our own little family Christmas. I'm excited because the Big Kids are just old enough to really get excited and rip into paper and the "babies" get the biggest kick out of the simplest toy.
Speaking of toys. Guess what I got for Christmas this year?....
Sweet Jesus THANK YOU!Thanks to my amazingly generous parents, tons of photos of my children will be gracing this blog very, very soon. And, hopefully, they will be GOOD photos. I'm even reading the owners manual on the thing.
Dork. I know.
Anyway, our travels were eventful. We spent lots of time riding horses and playing with friends and cousins and in new places. For the drive home Luke and I decided that we would stop and stay with his Dad just outside of Memphis. Then, we decided that we'd drive to Nashville and stop there. Then, when we got to Nashville, we decided to just keep truckin' and we ended up driving all the way through the night.
11.5 hours rather than 16.5 hours. Thankyouverymuch.
Sure, Luke and I were exhausted when we pulled into our garage at 7:00am on Saturday morning. But, the kids all climbed into their respective beds (and cribs) and Luke and I did the same and we all slept until just past 11:00am.
After a 2 hour nap on Sunday, we were all refreshed and feeling like ourselves.
I hope that your Christmases were lovely and that you made many memories while celebrating the birth of Jesus. We will probably never, ever go out of town for Christmas again.
EVER.
It was a long trip and crazy-chaotic and completely exhausting. But, we did it and saw family and now I'm glad we are home.
I'll try to post some photos soon (you know, the ones I've taken with my NEW camera) and hopefully post about some lessons I learned over this Christmas season. They were interesting ones to say the very least. VERY interesting.
I hear Baby Girl coughing and Aaron is finishing up a bath (the big kids are at my parents' house today) and so I'd better go wash and cuddle my little ones while I have the chance.
TEN short weeks until #6's expected appearance...which probably means 12 more weeks for me.
Still TWO MONTHS AWAY. Holy moly. I think I need to nest.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Merry Christmas!
from The Beaver BunchThat night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them.
They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.
The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
Luke 2: 10-14
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Vacation...all I ever wanted
Well, after 16.5 hours of travel time, with several potty breaks and some serious cases of car fever, we arrived in Arkansas late, late last Friday evening. Today it's....(hang on lemme check the calendar....) WEDNESDAY. I have escaped to the land of internet so that I could check my email and let you all know that we are alive.
So far, we've had a great time seeing family and friends. The kids enjoyed playing with my BFF Amanda's kids immensely and Amanda and I enjoyed laughing and catching up more than ever. Last night, we got together with my Dad's side of the family which included 4 of my cousins, my sister, 2 aunts, my uncle and each cousin's spouse. It was crazy. I forgot to grab my camera out of the car before we started snapping photos of all the cousins with our grandparents. But, here is a picture of my Granny and Paw (my grandparents) with all of their GREATgrandkids. That's right, all of their Grandchildren's children.
That's 12 great grandkids ages 18 years to 14 months. Can you pick out how many are crying? This was the first picture I snapped so the following photos were all down hill.
It was hysterically memorable. And, I won't deny that my eyes got a little more than misty when I saw all the great-grandchildren that come from these two God loving people. What a legacy they have!
Annnnyway, we are staying out at my Uncle's horse farm again this year and once again the kids have requested to ride horses every. single. day. So, we obliged them. Once. Every day since, it's rained.
Tonight we are heading over to my Maw's house (that's my Mom's Mom) with a different cousin and her kids. It is sure to continue to be an adventure while we finish up a week's worth of living in a single-wide, 3 bedroom, 2 bath trailer. You know, it's amazing how little you really need to live on.
Y'all have a very, Merry Christmas and I'll hopefully have many more photos and blog worthy moments when we return!
So far, we've had a great time seeing family and friends. The kids enjoyed playing with my BFF Amanda's kids immensely and Amanda and I enjoyed laughing and catching up more than ever. Last night, we got together with my Dad's side of the family which included 4 of my cousins, my sister, 2 aunts, my uncle and each cousin's spouse. It was crazy. I forgot to grab my camera out of the car before we started snapping photos of all the cousins with our grandparents. But, here is a picture of my Granny and Paw (my grandparents) with all of their GREATgrandkids. That's right, all of their Grandchildren's children.
That's 12 great grandkids ages 18 years to 14 months. Can you pick out how many are crying? This was the first picture I snapped so the following photos were all down hill.It was hysterically memorable. And, I won't deny that my eyes got a little more than misty when I saw all the great-grandchildren that come from these two God loving people. What a legacy they have!
Annnnyway, we are staying out at my Uncle's horse farm again this year and once again the kids have requested to ride horses every. single. day. So, we obliged them. Once. Every day since, it's rained.
Tonight we are heading over to my Maw's house (that's my Mom's Mom) with a different cousin and her kids. It is sure to continue to be an adventure while we finish up a week's worth of living in a single-wide, 3 bedroom, 2 bath trailer. You know, it's amazing how little you really need to live on.
Y'all have a very, Merry Christmas and I'll hopefully have many more photos and blog worthy moments when we return!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sorry, I'm a slacker....
...and I didn't get around to writing and posting a Das Not Funny! Friday for you all. Luke and I just spent the last 6 hours packing for a week long trip to Arkansas for Christmas. We leave bright and early in the morning (I'm writing this on Thursday night, you see. Actually, it's a little past midnight so it is technically Friday, but I'm gonna be all sneaky like and pick 8:30am as the publish time. Oh, I'm just so tech savvy).
Thankfully, our great friends will be taking care of our firstborn doghter and our home while we are away (that's for all you burglars, thieves and schemers planning on robbing us! Our house is protected! Protected by the Lawd! Away from us you evildoers!).
(Was that too much? Oh well, moderation was never my strong point.)
So, by the time you read this we will (hopefully) be a few hours down the road. Blissfully on our way with a van load of quiet kids who are happily entertained by gadgets and coloring books and movies.
Okay, so maybe we will just be on our way.
Either way, happy Friday. See you on the flip side.
Thankfully, our great friends will be taking care of our firstborn doghter and our home while we are away (that's for all you burglars, thieves and schemers planning on robbing us! Our house is protected! Protected by the Lawd! Away from us you evildoers!).
(Was that too much? Oh well, moderation was never my strong point.)
So, by the time you read this we will (hopefully) be a few hours down the road. Blissfully on our way with a van load of quiet kids who are happily entertained by gadgets and coloring books and movies.
Okay, so maybe we will just be on our way.
Either way, happy Friday. See you on the flip side.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Honk if you're delirious
Whew! With all the heavy emotion around here associated with those last two posts I feel the need to write something light and airy.
Not to discount the importance or the reality of the last two posts (and if you haven't seen my update on "L" please click here) but I'm one of those people who begins laughing at funerals because too much sadness makes me so uncomfortable that I can't control myself.
I'm serious. At my step-mom's funeral back in June I almost burst out laughing during the service. Not because I think death is funny but because I think God made my brain too small to process the emotions involved with death and eternity and so I go to what I'm comfortable with...stupidity.
Sad, but true.
Anyway, I had to tell you guys about my day yesterday because it is too hysterical not to share and besides if anyone who lives in my Mom's neighborhood actually reads this blog, it might explain my behavior yesterday around 2:00pm.
You see, a couple months ago our fabulous babysitter Amanda (that's a different Amanda than my BFF. Not that babysitter Amanda couldn't be my BFF it's just that she's not the same person and I didn't want to confuse you.) got in a tiny accident (that was totally not her fault) in our Big Red Beast. Basically, it broke the passenger side mirror and we've been waiting and waiting and stalling to get it fixed.
So yesterday Big Red was in the shop. Since I had a check up OB appointment yesterday as well (where I BARELY passed my 1 hour glucose test...thankyouJesus) I borrowed my parents' truck for the day while awesome babysitter Amanda kept the kids at the house. I'd been driving my parents' truck all over town without one hint of a problem (and apparently without making many left turns).
In fact, it wasn't until I started thinking about how well their truck was driving for having over 213,000 miles on it did the hilarity begin.
I turn off the interstate to head toward their neighborhood when suddenly someone pulls up very closely behind me and begins LAYING on the horn. REALLY honking I'm telling you, without letting up. I check the mirrors only to find that there is NO ONE around me.
I turn down the radio and realize that it is the sound of my own horn I'm hearing pulsing in my ears. Confused, I press on the center of the steering wheel. No dice. HORN STILL A BLAZIN' I tell ya.
I drive another mile or so with the horn never ceasing. Then, I make a right hand turn into my parents' neighborhood. The horn stops.
At this point, I start to chuckle. "Wow. That was funny." I think to myself.
I turn left onto another street.
On goes the horn. Honking without even a hint of a pause.
I smack the horn with my hand and it jolts off for about .0001 second then begins again.
I turn left onto my parents' street.
It continues as I drive all the way down my parents' street and as I turn into their driveway. Horn is STILL honking a single LONG honk. Uncontrollably.
Unable to contain my laughter I burst and my bladder threatens to do the same. I slam on the steering wheel and the horn stops.
I open the truck door to climb out and the horn starts.
I hit the wheel again and the horn stops.
I continue climbing out of the car and the horn starts again. At this point I'm certain that I'm going to pee my pants to I whack the wheel one last time and the horn shuts off. I do the pee-pee dance into my parents' house certain that I will hear the horn the entire time I'm inside.
I go back outside to wait on my Mom who is meeting me there in the next few minutes. I crank up the truck again and the horn begins to wail once more.
I smack the steering wheels and off it goes. Only to blare again a moment or two later.
This continues for the next 5 minutes.
As my Mom climbs into the truck and we drive to retrieve the Big Red Beast I recant to her the last 20 minutes of my life. We both laugh hysterically and the truck remains silent.
Apparently, my step-dad dropped a quarter down into the steering column a while back. When it bumps the wires, the horn honks uncontrollably.
For me, it happened every. single. time I made a left hand turn.
Imagine me, driving into my parents' neighborhood with the horn honking full blast and me inside, laughing uncontrollably and beating the steering wheel like nobody's business.
Yeah, I'm laughing now too. Or at least I hope you are 'cause I don't care who you are, that's funny.
Not to discount the importance or the reality of the last two posts (and if you haven't seen my update on "L" please click here) but I'm one of those people who begins laughing at funerals because too much sadness makes me so uncomfortable that I can't control myself.
I'm serious. At my step-mom's funeral back in June I almost burst out laughing during the service. Not because I think death is funny but because I think God made my brain too small to process the emotions involved with death and eternity and so I go to what I'm comfortable with...stupidity.
Sad, but true.
Anyway, I had to tell you guys about my day yesterday because it is too hysterical not to share and besides if anyone who lives in my Mom's neighborhood actually reads this blog, it might explain my behavior yesterday around 2:00pm.
You see, a couple months ago our fabulous babysitter Amanda (that's a different Amanda than my BFF. Not that babysitter Amanda couldn't be my BFF it's just that she's not the same person and I didn't want to confuse you.) got in a tiny accident (that was totally not her fault) in our Big Red Beast. Basically, it broke the passenger side mirror and we've been waiting and waiting and stalling to get it fixed.
So yesterday Big Red was in the shop. Since I had a check up OB appointment yesterday as well (where I BARELY passed my 1 hour glucose test...thankyouJesus) I borrowed my parents' truck for the day while awesome babysitter Amanda kept the kids at the house. I'd been driving my parents' truck all over town without one hint of a problem (and apparently without making many left turns).
In fact, it wasn't until I started thinking about how well their truck was driving for having over 213,000 miles on it did the hilarity begin.
I turn off the interstate to head toward their neighborhood when suddenly someone pulls up very closely behind me and begins LAYING on the horn. REALLY honking I'm telling you, without letting up. I check the mirrors only to find that there is NO ONE around me.
I turn down the radio and realize that it is the sound of my own horn I'm hearing pulsing in my ears. Confused, I press on the center of the steering wheel. No dice. HORN STILL A BLAZIN' I tell ya.
I drive another mile or so with the horn never ceasing. Then, I make a right hand turn into my parents' neighborhood. The horn stops.
At this point, I start to chuckle. "Wow. That was funny." I think to myself.
I turn left onto another street.
On goes the horn. Honking without even a hint of a pause.
I smack the horn with my hand and it jolts off for about .0001 second then begins again.
I turn left onto my parents' street.
It continues as I drive all the way down my parents' street and as I turn into their driveway. Horn is STILL honking a single LONG honk. Uncontrollably.
Unable to contain my laughter I burst and my bladder threatens to do the same. I slam on the steering wheel and the horn stops.
I open the truck door to climb out and the horn starts.
I hit the wheel again and the horn stops.
I continue climbing out of the car and the horn starts again. At this point I'm certain that I'm going to pee my pants to I whack the wheel one last time and the horn shuts off. I do the pee-pee dance into my parents' house certain that I will hear the horn the entire time I'm inside.
I go back outside to wait on my Mom who is meeting me there in the next few minutes. I crank up the truck again and the horn begins to wail once more.
I smack the steering wheels and off it goes. Only to blare again a moment or two later.
This continues for the next 5 minutes.
As my Mom climbs into the truck and we drive to retrieve the Big Red Beast I recant to her the last 20 minutes of my life. We both laugh hysterically and the truck remains silent.
Apparently, my step-dad dropped a quarter down into the steering column a while back. When it bumps the wires, the horn honks uncontrollably.
For me, it happened every. single. time I made a left hand turn.
Imagine me, driving into my parents' neighborhood with the horn honking full blast and me inside, laughing uncontrollably and beating the steering wheel like nobody's business.
Yeah, I'm laughing now too. Or at least I hope you are 'cause I don't care who you are, that's funny.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Heavy Heart: UPDATE
**Update**
I didn't feel it was my place before to post more information than necessary about "L." Since then, my BFF Amanda has posted about it on her blog. She is the "very, very close friend" I referenced in my original post. Please visit Amanda's blog to see how you can specifically pray for "L."
Thanks prayer warriors. I am so encouraged by your willingness to pray for someone you may never know this side of heaven.
Original post:
Despite the light and airy post below, (which I actually wrote on Saturday and scheduled to post today) I have a heavy heart today. This post will be full of vague details but I ask, that if you feel led, please offer up prayers anyway. God knows who you are praying for and what it is that she needs. And, since I just recently did this post on prayer, I figured it's time to put into practice what I know to be true. God hears our prayers and loves us immensely. He desires to comfort us and give us peace that surpasses our understanding.
A very, very close friend called me on Saturday night with some heartbreaking news. There is a young woman, who I will call "L" who is about 4 months pregnant. On Saturday she tragically and unexpectedly lost her husband. L and her husband have only been married a short time.
Now, L is faced with raising a baby who will never know his or her father, a Christmas without her husband and, most importantly, a tragedy she may never understand.
Again, I know these details are vague and often it is hard to know how to pray for someone you know nothing about. Still, I beg you to please be in prayer for this young woman, her family and the family of her husband.
Thanks friends.
I didn't feel it was my place before to post more information than necessary about "L." Since then, my BFF Amanda has posted about it on her blog. She is the "very, very close friend" I referenced in my original post. Please visit Amanda's blog to see how you can specifically pray for "L."
Thanks prayer warriors. I am so encouraged by your willingness to pray for someone you may never know this side of heaven.
Original post:
Despite the light and airy post below, (which I actually wrote on Saturday and scheduled to post today) I have a heavy heart today. This post will be full of vague details but I ask, that if you feel led, please offer up prayers anyway. God knows who you are praying for and what it is that she needs. And, since I just recently did this post on prayer, I figured it's time to put into practice what I know to be true. God hears our prayers and loves us immensely. He desires to comfort us and give us peace that surpasses our understanding.
A very, very close friend called me on Saturday night with some heartbreaking news. There is a young woman, who I will call "L" who is about 4 months pregnant. On Saturday she tragically and unexpectedly lost her husband. L and her husband have only been married a short time.
Now, L is faced with raising a baby who will never know his or her father, a Christmas without her husband and, most importantly, a tragedy she may never understand.
Again, I know these details are vague and often it is hard to know how to pray for someone you know nothing about. Still, I beg you to please be in prayer for this young woman, her family and the family of her husband.
Thanks friends.
That girl, this woman
First of all, thanks for all the comments, emails, texts and prayers you offered up on "L's" behalf. I do not know her personally, but through a very close friend. I know that your prayers have not gone unheard. I appreciate it so much more than y'all know. Once more, you guys have blessed me.
It's 11:27pm as I sit here and write this. Baby #6 is doing somersaults in my belly and I have pulled my shirt up to watch my stretch-marked skin roll and jump. Although I never show off my belly to anyone other than my husband and I often look at it with disgust and disdain, tonight I am loving watching this Baby move.
And, it's made me wonder...
I am so quick to hate this body of mine. I hate these stretch marks more than just about anything. I joke around and say that I look like a cat has sharpened his claws all over the front of my body. Seriously, from my boobs to my mid-thigh I have stretch marks and scars from the three children I've carried in my womb.
And what about this extra weight I'm carrying? I mean, I played volleyball on scholarship in college. I was a student-athlete. I'm not claiming to have been the world's best volleyball player and I was certainly not good enough to venture into a Division 1 gym and hold my own. But still, I was decent and I had a pretty good body back in the day.
I worked out for about 3 hours a day, how could I not have been in great shape?
And now, motherhood has moved in and taken up residence in place of the girl I once knew. I weigh a good 40 lbs more than I did in college (that's pre-pregnancy people). My face is beginning to show signs that I'm no longer a 20-something. I can't remember the last time I put on a pair of jeans and thought..."dang, I look good."
I've never been one to care much about wearing make up but now I look at myself and think, "maybe just a touch of something so I don't look quite so bad."
And I wonder...
What is the alternative? What's the opposite side of this coin? Because of what I'm evolving into, does that mean I desire my life to be something else? Am I less than what I could have been because I've succumbed to the life of "just a Mom?"
What could I have been like or what could I have done if I had remained the girl I once was?
Sure, I love being with my kids. I love watching Elizabeth get up from her spelling, walk across the room, hug Baby Girl and then come back to her writing tablet as if it's completely normal for a 5.5 year old to love a 14 month old that much. And I love that Baby Girl follows her back to the table just so she can play on the floor near her oldest sister.
I love to hear Lucas and Ashlee have an in-depth conversation on whether a pig could actually bite a person. I love the looks on their faces when I affirm that a pig can, in fact, bite a person. And, just yesterday, I loved the debate that ensued as they discussed whether or not a pig could ever eat a person and how many bites it might take.
I love watching Aaron dance to any music that he hears. Be it the hum of his siblings, the start up jingle on the computer or that stupid dog that someonewhoshallremainnameless got us that never shuts up and squeals "Hug me AGAIN!" just when I think he has lost interest.
I love it all.
But I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder where the Me is that used to live behind this face. I wonder what happened to the girl who loved riding down the road, wind in her hair, belting out her favorite song. I wonder what happened to the girl with awesome weekend plans involving new and exciting adventures. I wonder what happened to the Me who had few responsibilities and hardly any cares. I wonder where the Me went that could pick up and go and live on little plans and not worry about what we were eating for dinner tonight.
And somehow, I think that girl is still alive somewhere within me. But, she's grown up quite a bit. She's traded wind in her hair and her favorite song for a passenger van's air conditioning on her face and her favorite kids in the back seat(s) singing the same song for the 18th time.
That girl has traded weekend adventures for backyard fun, soccer games at 9am and morning cartoons, cuddled with her favorite people.
That girl has gained responsibilities a many but blessings that abound. She's traded ever-ready for ready-whenever-I-finish-changing-this-diaper.
And you know what? I think if I had shown that girl the life that this woman now has, she would have been blown away. She would have looked at it and laughed wondering how in the heck this life could even compare to that one.
That girl would wonder how this woman could possibly love diapers and dishwashers and Dora. That girl would dread the days that this woman looks forward to.
That girl would always wonder if this was her last day of freedom while this woman knows that real freedom is in what she already has.
And I realize that God doesn't give us glimpses into our far reaching futures for a reason. Because sometimes, the blessings He has in store for this girl might just scare her out of becoming that woman she never even knew she wanted to be.
It's 11:27pm as I sit here and write this. Baby #6 is doing somersaults in my belly and I have pulled my shirt up to watch my stretch-marked skin roll and jump. Although I never show off my belly to anyone other than my husband and I often look at it with disgust and disdain, tonight I am loving watching this Baby move.
And, it's made me wonder...
I am so quick to hate this body of mine. I hate these stretch marks more than just about anything. I joke around and say that I look like a cat has sharpened his claws all over the front of my body. Seriously, from my boobs to my mid-thigh I have stretch marks and scars from the three children I've carried in my womb.
And what about this extra weight I'm carrying? I mean, I played volleyball on scholarship in college. I was a student-athlete. I'm not claiming to have been the world's best volleyball player and I was certainly not good enough to venture into a Division 1 gym and hold my own. But still, I was decent and I had a pretty good body back in the day.
I worked out for about 3 hours a day, how could I not have been in great shape?
And now, motherhood has moved in and taken up residence in place of the girl I once knew. I weigh a good 40 lbs more than I did in college (that's pre-pregnancy people). My face is beginning to show signs that I'm no longer a 20-something. I can't remember the last time I put on a pair of jeans and thought..."dang, I look good."
I've never been one to care much about wearing make up but now I look at myself and think, "maybe just a touch of something so I don't look quite so bad."
And I wonder...
What is the alternative? What's the opposite side of this coin? Because of what I'm evolving into, does that mean I desire my life to be something else? Am I less than what I could have been because I've succumbed to the life of "just a Mom?"
What could I have been like or what could I have done if I had remained the girl I once was?
Sure, I love being with my kids. I love watching Elizabeth get up from her spelling, walk across the room, hug Baby Girl and then come back to her writing tablet as if it's completely normal for a 5.5 year old to love a 14 month old that much. And I love that Baby Girl follows her back to the table just so she can play on the floor near her oldest sister.
I love to hear Lucas and Ashlee have an in-depth conversation on whether a pig could actually bite a person. I love the looks on their faces when I affirm that a pig can, in fact, bite a person. And, just yesterday, I loved the debate that ensued as they discussed whether or not a pig could ever eat a person and how many bites it might take.
I love watching Aaron dance to any music that he hears. Be it the hum of his siblings, the start up jingle on the computer or that stupid dog that someonewhoshallremainnameless got us that never shuts up and squeals "Hug me AGAIN!" just when I think he has lost interest.
I love it all.
But I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder where the Me is that used to live behind this face. I wonder what happened to the girl who loved riding down the road, wind in her hair, belting out her favorite song. I wonder what happened to the girl with awesome weekend plans involving new and exciting adventures. I wonder what happened to the Me who had few responsibilities and hardly any cares. I wonder where the Me went that could pick up and go and live on little plans and not worry about what we were eating for dinner tonight.
And somehow, I think that girl is still alive somewhere within me. But, she's grown up quite a bit. She's traded wind in her hair and her favorite song for a passenger van's air conditioning on her face and her favorite kids in the back seat(s) singing the same song for the 18th time.
That girl has traded weekend adventures for backyard fun, soccer games at 9am and morning cartoons, cuddled with her favorite people.
That girl has gained responsibilities a many but blessings that abound. She's traded ever-ready for ready-whenever-I-finish-changing-this-diaper.
And you know what? I think if I had shown that girl the life that this woman now has, she would have been blown away. She would have looked at it and laughed wondering how in the heck this life could even compare to that one.
That girl would wonder how this woman could possibly love diapers and dishwashers and Dora. That girl would dread the days that this woman looks forward to.
That girl would always wonder if this was her last day of freedom while this woman knows that real freedom is in what she already has.
And I realize that God doesn't give us glimpses into our far reaching futures for a reason. Because sometimes, the blessings He has in store for this girl might just scare her out of becoming that woman she never even knew she wanted to be.
Monday, December 14, 2009
To get you in the Christmas spirit...
...how about a couple Beaver family music videos? First up, for my southern fray-unds, some kuntry music....
Of course, for all you Hip Hop fans out there I offer the following, because my man knows how to shake his groove thang.
May your days be merry and bright. Merry Christmas!
(If you just followed that aforementioned link, be sure to just fast forward the video to end. Luke may be slightly upset at me linking to it, but I figured all of creation has seen it by now anyway, so thereyougo.)
Send your own ElfYourself eCards
Of course, for all you Hip Hop fans out there I offer the following, because my man knows how to shake his groove thang.
Send your own ElfYourself eCards
May your days be merry and bright. Merry Christmas!
(If you just followed that aforementioned link, be sure to just fast forward the video to end. Luke may be slightly upset at me linking to it, but I figured all of creation has seen it by now anyway, so thereyougo.)
Friday, December 11, 2009
Das Not Funny! Friday: The one where I use big, BOLD letters. Frequently.
As I write this post, my sweet Baby #6 is flip-flopping in my stomach, causing my tummy to shift and become lumpy. I seriously love this time of pregnancy. Did you know that I'm less than 3 months away from my due date? Holy moly. I can't even begin to think that after Christmas is here and gone (which will happen in the blink of an eye) we'll be two months away. WOWZERS.
At any rate, it's Friday again. So, that means it's time for Das Not Funny! Friday. Are you ready? I sure hope so.
Last night we were sitting around the dinner table and each of the big kids was telling about an adventure they had been on. An imagination adventure anyway. The girls' stories were pretty funny with Ashlee encountering a "crotchadile" and Elizabeth getting followed by a BIG, stinky bear that ended up being friendly. But Lucas' story...well.....
"I was walkin' fru da woods and all da sudden I heared somefin'. It was a BIG, HUE, GIANT......Rookster!"
I asked him he was planning on making his big, hue, giant rookster into fries. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
-------
Sometimes I wish I could just capture in my mind the looks on Ashlee's face when she's trying to be funny. Earlier this week was one of those times. We were singing a song the kids learned at Community Bible Study. It talks about obeying God and goes something like....
"Obey, obey, obey.
Obey, obey, obey.
Obey, obey, obey.
Obey God."
At the end, Ashlee added her own stroke of....um, er.....talent and screeches at the top of her lungs,
"OOOOOOOObbbbbbeeeeeey GAWD!"
All the while pointing to the ceiling with one, scrawny index finger and rolling her eyes back in her head.
Maybe you had to be there. I'm sure my story would be better if I had a photo of my darling drama queen screeching like a spider monkey. But I don't. So just imagine.
--------
My Mom and Grandma took Lucas to eat at Denny's on Tuesday night (it's kids eat free night) when, apparently, Lucas announces proudly, "My peenus is getting BIG!" I wonder how many people were within ear shot? I wonder what their faces looked like? I wonder how it would have felt for my water to come out of my nose, had I been there?
The world may never know. Or, at least I may not.
-------
So, how was your week? Anything hilarious happen? If so, please play along and tell me your funnies. It's simple really. Just write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post and then enter your info into MckLinky.
Y'all have a supremely, fabulous, AWESOME weekend.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Phenomenal Cosmic Power!!...itty bitty living space
A while back I emailed a friend to see how she was doing. Unfortunately, the email I received back was heartbreaking. She has experienced a loss recently. The first line of her email to me read,
"I have actually thought a lot about you lately, because you are definitely a great person to go to for prayers."
Wow. Really? Me? Surely not. Still, she's not the first person to say something of this nature to me. In fact, about a year ago another friend called me asking me to pray for someone we mutually knew because that person was experiencing the loss of her unborn baby. Again, my friend said,
"Will you pray for her because I know you are tight with the Big Guy."
I know that it's not a secret that I love me some Jesus. But, both of these comments got me to thinking about prayer and whether or not my prayers are more or less effective than anyone else's prayers.
Here's a secret for you. I don't think they are. But still, I've been wondering...how powerful are my prayers? Are certain people more effective prayer warriors? Do certain people get more prayers answered than others.
The truth is, I didn't know. So, I went to the authority on all things prayer. God's word.
James 5:16 says this about prayer, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."
Humm...so being righteous = powerful and effective prayers. Got it.
That pretty much counts me out then. Because, and I'm gonna admit something here people, based on my own actions, I'm FAR from righteous. If righteousness were the east then...
Hello, my name is West. Nicetomeetyou.
But wait, the first line of that verse says, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other..."
It doesn't say, "Confess your sins ONLY to righteous people" now does it? No, it says confess your sins to each other so you may be healed.
Psalm 34 also addresses prayer and righteousness. Verse 15 specifically says that "the eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry."
Humm...sounds like I need a sack full of righteousness in order for my prayers to be heard OR effective, doesn't it? "So," you might ask, "how can I become righteous or is that even possible?"
Well, let me introduce you to my little friend called Romans Chapter 3. (I have linked Romans 3 using The Message version, but my favorite version is the English Standard Version. For some reason though, on Bible Gateway, the ESV has a lot of references and I find it annoying to read around them. You can certainly change it by choosing English Standard or New Living or whatever tickles your fancy, if you don't enjoy The Message.)
Romans Chapter 3 pretty much outlines the righteousness of God. You see, according to God's perfect character He MUST be righteous. Because of His perfection, He cannot allow Himself in the presence of sin.
I represent sin. Therefore, me = unrighteousness = cannot go before God. Prayer = going before God.
Yesterday, when I got ticked at Luke for drinking his milk too loud....yep, me = unrighteous. And last week when I was utterly livid that my dear, charming, wonderful husband forgot to take out our bathroom trash....me = unrighteous.
(I could go on, but I think you're getting the picture. Apparently my sin and my hormones are playing some seriously hilarious tricks on me.)
(Too bad my sense of humor hasn't caught up.)
(I'm just sayin'. That milk drinking was L.O.U.D. You shoulda been here.)
So if I'm so stinkin' unrighteous how in the heck am I suppose to pray and ever expect those prayers to be heard, much less answered?
Insert, JESUS. (Please don't tune me out because I dropped the J*bomb. Hear me out, mmmkay?) I love that in The Message version, verses 21-31 are subtitled as
God has set things right
Oh yes-sir-ee, He sure has. You see Jesus is the righteousness that I can never possess. In the Old Testament (also known as the Torah for the Jews - which is who Paul is referencing when he says "us." Paul was Jewish. When he says, "them" he is talking about Gentiles. Gentiles are non-Jewish people. Thatwouldbeme.) the Jewish people were required to live out the letter of the law(s) to be considered righteous. They are considered God's chosen people and often, Jewish people believed that they were more righteous than Gentiles because of their chosen status.
Whew. Still there? Good.
If we recognize the laws as our ticket to righteousness then we would constantly be seeing where we are falling short.
But Jesus, He made us ALL righteous. You see, Jesus was blameless. He never got ticked at His Mom for drinking her milk too loud or because His brother forgot to take the trash out. Jesus never uttered ugly words under His holy breath or disobeyed His parents or even told a tiny, little white lie.
Never. Let me tell you how hard it is for me to grasp that concept. VERY HARD.
(Often, I think about what it must have been like to be Jesus' Mom and have a blameless son. Then my head explodes and I remember that I have 5 kids, all of which take after their mother and are SIN-NERS.)
Still, even though He was blameless He took the blame, all of it. He took the blame for my anger at my husband, my short-temper with my kids, my impatience with the car in front of me who's been sitting at a green light for a sweet forever. Jesushelpmenow.
All of it. Gone in God's eyes. As long as I believe (and follow) Jesus. So, lemme break this down for you real quick-like.
Me + sin = unrighteous
BUT....
Me + sin + JESUS = righteous
It's simple math really.
I could go on and on and on about prayer and how I think that God uses our prayers to mold us rather than to put in our requests to Him, but that's a whole 'nother post. For now, I hope that if I've shed any light on a topic that was (for me) hard to understand that you'll pray earnestly and without hesitation to the God of all things.
And pray knowing, that if you have Jesus covering your righteousness, your prayers will be heard as if you are a righteous man who prays with power and effectiveness. And you know what, if you ask me to pray for or with you, I will. Because my prayers are powerful and effective as well. Can you just imagine what God does when one righteous person prays, much less two? Holy Dinah.
It kinda makes me think of my favorite Disney movie of all time, Aladdin. At the end, the Genie turns Jafar into an all-powerful Genie promising him "PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER!" with an "itty, bitty living space."
I think prayer is the same way. Sometimes you've just got to release this phenomenal power within your soul and realize that the key to that door resides in the tiniest of living spaces, your heart.
But, don't take my word for it, go read it for yourself.
"I have actually thought a lot about you lately, because you are definitely a great person to go to for prayers."
Wow. Really? Me? Surely not. Still, she's not the first person to say something of this nature to me. In fact, about a year ago another friend called me asking me to pray for someone we mutually knew because that person was experiencing the loss of her unborn baby. Again, my friend said,
"Will you pray for her because I know you are tight with the Big Guy."
I know that it's not a secret that I love me some Jesus. But, both of these comments got me to thinking about prayer and whether or not my prayers are more or less effective than anyone else's prayers.
Here's a secret for you. I don't think they are. But still, I've been wondering...how powerful are my prayers? Are certain people more effective prayer warriors? Do certain people get more prayers answered than others.
The truth is, I didn't know. So, I went to the authority on all things prayer. God's word.
James 5:16 says this about prayer, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."
Humm...so being righteous = powerful and effective prayers. Got it.
That pretty much counts me out then. Because, and I'm gonna admit something here people, based on my own actions, I'm FAR from righteous. If righteousness were the east then...
Hello, my name is West. Nicetomeetyou.
But wait, the first line of that verse says, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other..."
It doesn't say, "Confess your sins ONLY to righteous people" now does it? No, it says confess your sins to each other so you may be healed.
Psalm 34 also addresses prayer and righteousness. Verse 15 specifically says that "the eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry."
Humm...sounds like I need a sack full of righteousness in order for my prayers to be heard OR effective, doesn't it? "So," you might ask, "how can I become righteous or is that even possible?"
Well, let me introduce you to my little friend called Romans Chapter 3. (I have linked Romans 3 using The Message version, but my favorite version is the English Standard Version. For some reason though, on Bible Gateway, the ESV has a lot of references and I find it annoying to read around them. You can certainly change it by choosing English Standard or New Living or whatever tickles your fancy, if you don't enjoy The Message.)
Romans Chapter 3 pretty much outlines the righteousness of God. You see, according to God's perfect character He MUST be righteous. Because of His perfection, He cannot allow Himself in the presence of sin.
I represent sin. Therefore, me = unrighteousness = cannot go before God. Prayer = going before God.
Yesterday, when I got ticked at Luke for drinking his milk too loud....yep, me = unrighteous. And last week when I was utterly livid that my dear, charming, wonderful husband forgot to take out our bathroom trash....me = unrighteous.
(I could go on, but I think you're getting the picture. Apparently my sin and my hormones are playing some seriously hilarious tricks on me.)
(Too bad my sense of humor hasn't caught up.)
(I'm just sayin'. That milk drinking was L.O.U.D. You shoulda been here.)
So if I'm so stinkin' unrighteous how in the heck am I suppose to pray and ever expect those prayers to be heard, much less answered?
Insert, JESUS. (Please don't tune me out because I dropped the J*bomb. Hear me out, mmmkay?) I love that in The Message version, verses 21-31 are subtitled as
God has set things right
Oh yes-sir-ee, He sure has. You see Jesus is the righteousness that I can never possess. In the Old Testament (also known as the Torah for the Jews - which is who Paul is referencing when he says "us." Paul was Jewish. When he says, "them" he is talking about Gentiles. Gentiles are non-Jewish people. Thatwouldbeme.) the Jewish people were required to live out the letter of the law(s) to be considered righteous. They are considered God's chosen people and often, Jewish people believed that they were more righteous than Gentiles because of their chosen status.
Whew. Still there? Good.
If we recognize the laws as our ticket to righteousness then we would constantly be seeing where we are falling short.
But Jesus, He made us ALL righteous. You see, Jesus was blameless. He never got ticked at His Mom for drinking her milk too loud or because His brother forgot to take the trash out. Jesus never uttered ugly words under His holy breath or disobeyed His parents or even told a tiny, little white lie.
Never. Let me tell you how hard it is for me to grasp that concept. VERY HARD.
(Often, I think about what it must have been like to be Jesus' Mom and have a blameless son. Then my head explodes and I remember that I have 5 kids, all of which take after their mother and are SIN-NERS.)
Still, even though He was blameless He took the blame, all of it. He took the blame for my anger at my husband, my short-temper with my kids, my impatience with the car in front of me who's been sitting at a green light for a sweet forever. Jesushelpmenow.
All of it. Gone in God's eyes. As long as I believe (and follow) Jesus. So, lemme break this down for you real quick-like.
Me + sin = unrighteous
BUT....
Me + sin + JESUS = righteous
It's simple math really.
I could go on and on and on about prayer and how I think that God uses our prayers to mold us rather than to put in our requests to Him, but that's a whole 'nother post. For now, I hope that if I've shed any light on a topic that was (for me) hard to understand that you'll pray earnestly and without hesitation to the God of all things.
And pray knowing, that if you have Jesus covering your righteousness, your prayers will be heard as if you are a righteous man who prays with power and effectiveness. And you know what, if you ask me to pray for or with you, I will. Because my prayers are powerful and effective as well. Can you just imagine what God does when one righteous person prays, much less two? Holy Dinah.
It kinda makes me think of my favorite Disney movie of all time, Aladdin. At the end, the Genie turns Jafar into an all-powerful Genie promising him "PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER!" with an "itty, bitty living space."
I think prayer is the same way. Sometimes you've just got to release this phenomenal power within your soul and realize that the key to that door resides in the tiniest of living spaces, your heart.
But, don't take my word for it, go read it for yourself.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Daraja kind of thankful
I know, I know. Thanksgiving is over. So this thanksgiving post is a little late, huh? Well, not exactly.
Recently we had the privilege of hosting 3 amazing children in our home for 3 glorious nights. The Daraja Children's Choir of Africa came to our church and host homes were needed to house the children and chaperons. Last year we were out of town, this year we were all in.
Yes, we added 3 more children and 1 more adult around our dining table. Yes we added those same numbers to our cooking requirements. Yes, we had the time of our lives.
The day that they left, I was actually more than thankful for the abundance of dishes in my sink. I was thankful that we ate our cereal out of plastic bowls with plastic spoons because every single bowl and spoon in our house was sitting dirty in my sink.
And more than ever I'm thankful for my 5 little children and how they love on other people. I do believe that Lucas fell in love for the very first time.
He warmed up to Monica and never cooled off. I think he kissed her 4,397 times over the course of two days. It was so precious. I'm pretty sure he'll be talking about Monica for the next few years.
Elizabeth adored Betty to pieces. Elizabeth literally cried the morning they left and she stated boldly, "Mom, let's just go to Africa. We will have our new friends there and we already know Chris and Lindy. So let's just go to Africa and meet everyone else."
Sweetie, if I can have a thousand more pictures like this one, we so will go.
Monica and Betty are certainly some special girls. They loved on our children in a way that I cannot understand, especially given the circumstances they've come from. But it was sweet Eunice that really stole my heart.
Eunice is mostly quiet and reserved. Don't get me wrong, she was silly and she and Elizabeth had an awesome tickle party their last night here. But something about this usually soft spoken, quiet girl just stole the breath right out of me. I'm sure it was her smile and the way it made the whole room beam with joy.
Joy.
Just sheer joy on the face of this little girl. You couldn't help but smile along with her.
We miss these girls so much and they have been the topic of several conversations every day since they left. And, I'm sure they will continue to be the topic of conversations in our home for a very, very, very long time.
L to R: Lucas, Courtney (the chaperon), Ashlee, Monica, Eunice, Aaron, Baby Girl, Betty and Elizabeth
At the Zoo.
How much would I love to send this photo out as our family photo this year? About a bazillion much, that's how much.
Recently we had the privilege of hosting 3 amazing children in our home for 3 glorious nights. The Daraja Children's Choir of Africa came to our church and host homes were needed to house the children and chaperons. Last year we were out of town, this year we were all in.
Yes, we added 3 more children and 1 more adult around our dining table. Yes we added those same numbers to our cooking requirements. Yes, we had the time of our lives.
The day that they left, I was actually more than thankful for the abundance of dishes in my sink. I was thankful that we ate our cereal out of plastic bowls with plastic spoons because every single bowl and spoon in our house was sitting dirty in my sink.
And more than ever I'm thankful for my 5 little children and how they love on other people. I do believe that Lucas fell in love for the very first time.
He warmed up to Monica and never cooled off. I think he kissed her 4,397 times over the course of two days. It was so precious. I'm pretty sure he'll be talking about Monica for the next few years.Elizabeth adored Betty to pieces. Elizabeth literally cried the morning they left and she stated boldly, "Mom, let's just go to Africa. We will have our new friends there and we already know Chris and Lindy. So let's just go to Africa and meet everyone else."
Sweetie, if I can have a thousand more pictures like this one, we so will go.
Monica and Betty are certainly some special girls. They loved on our children in a way that I cannot understand, especially given the circumstances they've come from. But it was sweet Eunice that really stole my heart.Eunice is mostly quiet and reserved. Don't get me wrong, she was silly and she and Elizabeth had an awesome tickle party their last night here. But something about this usually soft spoken, quiet girl just stole the breath right out of me. I'm sure it was her smile and the way it made the whole room beam with joy.
Joy.Just sheer joy on the face of this little girl. You couldn't help but smile along with her.
We miss these girls so much and they have been the topic of several conversations every day since they left. And, I'm sure they will continue to be the topic of conversations in our home for a very, very, very long time.
L to R: Lucas, Courtney (the chaperon), Ashlee, Monica, Eunice, Aaron, Baby Girl, Betty and Elizabeth
At the Zoo.
How much would I love to send this photo out as our family photo this year? About a bazillion much, that's how much.Friday, December 4, 2009
Das Not Funny! Friday: Workin' for the weekend
Helllllllloooooooo Friday! Welcome back. I knew I should have written this post last night when the world's biggest wiggle worm was making a playpen of my uterus. Next time I'll know not to eat 4 or 11 Reese Cups an hour before bed. Baby + Sugar = No sleep for Momma. As I laid on my side, I think the Baby was using the bed for leverage to push himself off and bang into my ribs.
Fun.
I thought several times about dragging myself out of bed and writing this post so it would be all sparkly and ready for your eyes this morning, but that would have required effort and, quite frankly, I enjoy laying in the bed way too much.
So, here is this week's Das Not Funny! Friday for you. I sure hope it is all you ever dreamed it would be or at least half of that.
Before Thanksgiving, my step-dad and I took the kids to eat at a restaurant in town. It just so happens that our amazingly, remarkable, college aged babysitter works at said restaurant. When I told the kids that we were going to Miss Amanda's work to have dinner it sparked 72 kinds of squeals and hand clapping. But, Elizabeth's comments took the cake.
"Mom? Why are we going to there? I thought you made money when you worked?"
"You do honey, " I responded, "and Miss Amanda works there and makes money there."
"She works at the restaurant? For money? I thought that she worked in a box office and didn't do anything all day just like Daddy does."
--------
Earlier this week, during nap...
Lucas (standing outside his door, whispering): "Mom! Come here!"
Me (whispering in an agitated tone): "Yes Buddy?"
Lucas (whispering, still): "Turn dat wite on!"
Me (turning on the hall light and growing increasingly frustrated): "What do you need Bud?"
Lucas (pulling down his pants and continuing to whisper): "Wook at my peenus Mom! It's...."(insert decsriptive language about his body that I should probably not share with the internet).
Me (almost speechless at his very precise description): "Lucas, pull your pants up and go lay down and go to sleep."
Lucas (still whispering): "I was sweepin' Momma."
Me (stifling giggles): "Based on what you just told me, I don't think your eyes were closed in there. Now go!"
-------
Lucas was playing in his room one afternoon quite peacefully. I see Ashlee walk over to the doorway of his room and I hear the following conversation.
"Woocus say, 'Ashwee you wanna come pway wif me?'" Ashlee asserts.
"Ashwee, you wanna come pway wit me?" Lucas says obediently.
"No kanks," Ashlee responds, "I'm weal we busy wif my toys."
--------
Yesterday, we were leaving Community Bible Study and I asked all 3 big kids if anyone needed to go potty. Naturally the answer was a choral "No!"
I knew better.
Not 5 minutes down the road Elizabeth states that she needs to pee "right at this moment."
"I'm sorry honey. Can you hold it until we get home? I can't stop and take you all in to the bathroom."
"Nooooooooooo! I'm gonna pee now!" she wails.
I pull over and find an alternate solution. Not the side of the road or a Quick Mart. A size 4 Luvs diaper securely placed on the bottom of my 5.5 year old. Relief for us both came quickly, as did the giggles that she was using a diaper.
Well, that's it. If you'd like to play along, simply write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post, then enter your info in MckLinky. Super easy. Y'all have a great weekend. I'm praying our Christmas tree makes an appearance this weekend but I'm not holding my breath. Instead, I'm going to go find that bag of Reese Cups and see if I can't polish them off before tonight. I think setting attainable goals for yourself is so important.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Water
Dear God,
Today I would like to thank you for water. I know, it's something simple to be thankful for and you totally created it in about .00001 seconds on the second day of Creation. Still, having clean, running and totally available water at my tap made me excessively thankful today.
When Lucas somehow smeared his poop all over the bathroom floor, sink, counter and toilet paper roller it was water (and some bleach) that helped my bathroom sparkle like a new, non-poop-stained penny.
When Aaron woke up this morning with a blistered bottom and screamed with shrieks of pain as I wiped him, it was water that helped heal his bottom as he soaked in a sink full of bubbles.
When Elizabeth was thirsty and requested something to drink, water filled her cup.
As I dumped a sink full of dishes into my empty kitchen sink and sighed at them all accumulating before breakfast had even finished, it was water I ran over them in the hopes that they would look clean and I wouldn't have to really wash them.
When Baby Girl decided it would be a good idea to barf onto the kitchen floor, soap and water cleaned up milk puke in the blink of an eye.
Thanks to water, I got to slowly sip a nice, hot cup of creamy, sweet coffee this morning and I will enjoy and ice cold glass of sweet tea later.
I'm sure tomorrow water will be something I take for granted. But for today, God, thanks for making water. And thanks for placing me in a country where water is relatively free, easily accessible and, most of all, clean.
You're pretty cool you know that God? Pretty darn cool.
Amen.
-----
Here's some other people who think water is pretty cool...
Wine to Water
Advent Conspiracy
Samaritan's Purse
Today I would like to thank you for water. I know, it's something simple to be thankful for and you totally created it in about .00001 seconds on the second day of Creation. Still, having clean, running and totally available water at my tap made me excessively thankful today.
When Lucas somehow smeared his poop all over the bathroom floor, sink, counter and toilet paper roller it was water (and some bleach) that helped my bathroom sparkle like a new, non-poop-stained penny.
When Aaron woke up this morning with a blistered bottom and screamed with shrieks of pain as I wiped him, it was water that helped heal his bottom as he soaked in a sink full of bubbles.
When Elizabeth was thirsty and requested something to drink, water filled her cup.
As I dumped a sink full of dishes into my empty kitchen sink and sighed at them all accumulating before breakfast had even finished, it was water I ran over them in the hopes that they would look clean and I wouldn't have to really wash them.
When Baby Girl decided it would be a good idea to barf onto the kitchen floor, soap and water cleaned up milk puke in the blink of an eye.
Thanks to water, I got to slowly sip a nice, hot cup of creamy, sweet coffee this morning and I will enjoy and ice cold glass of sweet tea later.
I'm sure tomorrow water will be something I take for granted. But for today, God, thanks for making water. And thanks for placing me in a country where water is relatively free, easily accessible and, most of all, clean.
You're pretty cool you know that God? Pretty darn cool.
Amen.
-----
Here's some other people who think water is pretty cool...
Wine to Water
Advent Conspiracy
Samaritan's Purse
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
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