This is the time of year that we are all drawn into the looking back and looking ahead. We fill up lists with to do's and wishes and wants and call them resolutions. We come up with these resolutions by sifting over the last year and scouring over all the things we didn't like in our lives. Then we go about making our magic plan to make it over anew in the the next 365 days.
The cast of a calendar year is so completely arbitrary. We could, and often do, measure not from January first to December last, but instead from birthday to birthday, or anniversary to anniversary or even school year to school year.
It's silly my friends.
A life is not measured in a mere handful of days, months or minutes.
And isn't that what we're trying to do with all these resolutions anyway? Aren't we really trying to make something out of ourselves that will count and be memorable? Aren't we just trying to figure out the secret formula for leaving a legacy?
There has to be more to your life than loosing 20 pounds in a years time or reading 99 books by a certain date. More to it all than learning water color painting or finishing a scrapbook. More than completing a marathon or seeing you name in lights.
More.
But what then.
It's this.
The single greatest command we're given, love one another.
Not just those we really like to love, or the ones we select to love, but everyone. All.
It's not easy. Those of us who try to do this, we fail. Over and over and over again, we fail. Then we try again because we know how He loves us.
So if loosing 20 pounds in a certain time frame helps you to love others, get on with it. If it's reading books or marathon running or being famous, so be it. But while you're busy pursuing all of that remember that it isn't about the end. This is where you are to say it's about the journey, but it isn't that either. It's about all the people on the journey.
Are you trampling them to get to your prize or are you gathering them and taking them along with you on a journey that will never end?
**As a side note, I am so often completely surprised by the words that blink onto the screen before me as I sit down to type. This was not at all what I intended to write about this evening.**
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas
It's the end of Christmas Day and we're far from over. We still have two more family gatherings to go. Spreading it out can be both good and bad.
General recaps of our time so far.
The Little Mr's have had a very electronic holiday and as a result, we've hardly seen them all day. I suspect they're still glued to their new screens while tucked under their covers. They'll be tired tomorrow. Love & Logic, natural consequences all the way baby.
They're already tired. The Little Mr. barely slept last night. The anticipation of Christmas was just too much. The Littlest Mr. and Little Miss just had off nights and Little One seems to be back on with the croup again. Let's just say that most of us got very little sleep on this Christmas Eve.
We officially survived doggie bed rest and she's back to her normal self. We did learn that the basset hound is basically the goat of the dog species. They will eat pretty much anything, even if it isn't a food. Lucky us.
Sometime over the last week, between babies, holiday preparations and lousy winter weather I threw out my back. I've been hoping every day I'd wake up and it would be on the mend, but today I hunched my way around the holiday like a little old lady. I'm working my way through a bottle of Tylenol and hoping it will right itself without a trip to the chiropractor.
I made time to watch It's a Wonderful Life. Again. That's Christmas alright.
We're enjoying some new Christmas CD's, Jimmy Buffet, Melissa Etheridge and Sarah McLachlan. I know, I know, I have some odd musical tastes. It goes right along with my odd TV tastes. Right now, I'm laughing really hard to Who's Line Is It Anyway? Nothing makes me laugh as much as this show. It's just plain funny to me all the time.
All but Little One and I went to the sledding hill today. They had quite a good time. How could they not have fun? There is enough snow to be frightening.
General recaps of our time so far.
The Little Mr's have had a very electronic holiday and as a result, we've hardly seen them all day. I suspect they're still glued to their new screens while tucked under their covers. They'll be tired tomorrow. Love & Logic, natural consequences all the way baby.
They're already tired. The Little Mr. barely slept last night. The anticipation of Christmas was just too much. The Littlest Mr. and Little Miss just had off nights and Little One seems to be back on with the croup again. Let's just say that most of us got very little sleep on this Christmas Eve.
We officially survived doggie bed rest and she's back to her normal self. We did learn that the basset hound is basically the goat of the dog species. They will eat pretty much anything, even if it isn't a food. Lucky us.
Sometime over the last week, between babies, holiday preparations and lousy winter weather I threw out my back. I've been hoping every day I'd wake up and it would be on the mend, but today I hunched my way around the holiday like a little old lady. I'm working my way through a bottle of Tylenol and hoping it will right itself without a trip to the chiropractor.
I made time to watch It's a Wonderful Life. Again. That's Christmas alright.
We're enjoying some new Christmas CD's, Jimmy Buffet, Melissa Etheridge and Sarah McLachlan. I know, I know, I have some odd musical tastes. It goes right along with my odd TV tastes. Right now, I'm laughing really hard to Who's Line Is It Anyway? Nothing makes me laugh as much as this show. It's just plain funny to me all the time.
All but Little One and I went to the sledding hill today. They had quite a good time. How could they not have fun? There is enough snow to be frightening.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
This Is A Holy Night, Our Holy Night
It's Christmas, well officially, Christmas Eve, at least for another hour or so, but Merry Christmas anyway.
Today, I found a moment or two where I thought, truly, less is more. We took the whole group and went to the early service at church. It was something. No argument there. I understand why it was the way it was, but for me, personally, less could have been so much more.
I would have spliced and cut and maybe even divided it into two different services. The parts were woven together well, but, I don't know, for me somehow...maybe it's just the place I'm at this year.
My perfect fantasy Christmas Eve service would have been quiet, reverent, reserved, holy somehow. I loved when we sang carols together as a Body. I was captivated and moved by the reading of The Christmas Story. Silent Night by candle light brings me to tears. That would have been enough for me.
It's not that I don't love the rock star treatment once in a while or that I didn't get things out of the sermon or the videos, because I did. In a way, they just seemed out of place to me.
But, going back again, I think that just isn't the place I'm in this year.
It's been such a long year with such intense ups and downs, that getting to the "end" of it, seems like something to take note of. Not exactly an accomplishment, because I don't do my life on my own and I only accomplish anything with Him. That isn't it. And it wasn't so much a survivor thing either. Perhaps it was a slow growth thing that I just haven't sorted out yet. Something that I can't quite get into words yet.
I do know this though, through much of this season the little things have brought me to tears. Life and circumstance brought me to my knees. There have been so many verses that have summed up this year. Too many to list. There is one that has rung though my heart over and over as the days have gone by.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your path straight.
So very much of this year I have not even pretended to understand. I've been walking in trust, putting one foot in front of the other on faith that there is ground beneath my feet. I have learned to acknowledge Him, His hand in all, not just within myself, but with others. I am learning to make myself give credit to the Lord for the things "I" do. I'm learning to say it out loud to all, without fear and as if acknowledging Him for all is not something I've taught myself to do, but something so central to who I am, that it would never be doubted.
So now before the madness of kids and presents begins, I'm off to be teary once more. I'll say prayers over their sleeping heads and put my weepy, weary self to bed on this Holy Night.
Today, I found a moment or two where I thought, truly, less is more. We took the whole group and went to the early service at church. It was something. No argument there. I understand why it was the way it was, but for me, personally, less could have been so much more.
I would have spliced and cut and maybe even divided it into two different services. The parts were woven together well, but, I don't know, for me somehow...maybe it's just the place I'm at this year.
My perfect fantasy Christmas Eve service would have been quiet, reverent, reserved, holy somehow. I loved when we sang carols together as a Body. I was captivated and moved by the reading of The Christmas Story. Silent Night by candle light brings me to tears. That would have been enough for me.
It's not that I don't love the rock star treatment once in a while or that I didn't get things out of the sermon or the videos, because I did. In a way, they just seemed out of place to me.
But, going back again, I think that just isn't the place I'm in this year.
It's been such a long year with such intense ups and downs, that getting to the "end" of it, seems like something to take note of. Not exactly an accomplishment, because I don't do my life on my own and I only accomplish anything with Him. That isn't it. And it wasn't so much a survivor thing either. Perhaps it was a slow growth thing that I just haven't sorted out yet. Something that I can't quite get into words yet.
I do know this though, through much of this season the little things have brought me to tears. Life and circumstance brought me to my knees. There have been so many verses that have summed up this year. Too many to list. There is one that has rung though my heart over and over as the days have gone by.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your path straight.
So very much of this year I have not even pretended to understand. I've been walking in trust, putting one foot in front of the other on faith that there is ground beneath my feet. I have learned to acknowledge Him, His hand in all, not just within myself, but with others. I am learning to make myself give credit to the Lord for the things "I" do. I'm learning to say it out loud to all, without fear and as if acknowledging Him for all is not something I've taught myself to do, but something so central to who I am, that it would never be doubted.
So now before the madness of kids and presents begins, I'm off to be teary once more. I'll say prayers over their sleeping heads and put my weepy, weary self to bed on this Holy Night.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Almost
It's almost Christmas Eve and life is still life over here. I'm about half way through the wrapping frenzy. I found all but one gift. I think there will be just one duplicate this year. The special surprises are all set to happen. There are still cookies to make. We'll dig out of the snow to go to church.
In other notes our dog is going for her post op check up tomorrow and I'm hoping she'll get off bed rest. She did manage to eat an entire package of chocolates and a box of holiday tea tonight. A very bad diet for doggies. So, after her little scarfing escapade she got a lovely hydrogen peroxide coctail. Cookies successfully tossed, she is resting comfortably and will see the vet in the morning. At least this time it was a small box of chocolate. Last time she ate over a pound of chocolate.
The Christmas cards were delivered today, so I'll be addressing envelopes Wednesday or Thursday. I haven't sent cards in years and years, so this is a big deal. No letter, of course, but at least a snap shot of the kids.
There are plenty of things on the calendar for the next week, so we'll be plenty busy. Seems things like foster care don't take the holiday's off.
We'll be busy. We'll be happy. We'll be singing praises for an unbelievable year and all the things we can't even begin to imagine that we know are just around the corner.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
See you, in the morning!
In other notes our dog is going for her post op check up tomorrow and I'm hoping she'll get off bed rest. She did manage to eat an entire package of chocolates and a box of holiday tea tonight. A very bad diet for doggies. So, after her little scarfing escapade she got a lovely hydrogen peroxide coctail. Cookies successfully tossed, she is resting comfortably and will see the vet in the morning. At least this time it was a small box of chocolate. Last time she ate over a pound of chocolate.
The Christmas cards were delivered today, so I'll be addressing envelopes Wednesday or Thursday. I haven't sent cards in years and years, so this is a big deal. No letter, of course, but at least a snap shot of the kids.
There are plenty of things on the calendar for the next week, so we'll be plenty busy. Seems things like foster care don't take the holiday's off.
We'll be busy. We'll be happy. We'll be singing praises for an unbelievable year and all the things we can't even begin to imagine that we know are just around the corner.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
See you, in the morning!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Today's The Day
The day I must finish the shopping!
I'm always a bit of a last minute, late in the game shopper and the weather this year isn't helping me. Quite a few of my shopping trips have been thwarted by icky icy freezing stupid cold Wisconsin winter. Considering winter only began last night, it is a bit insane.
Anyway, done whining. I'm actually in a great mood and looking forward to my shopping afternoon and evening. I'm also hoping I'll be having my last dental check up with my surgeon. I'm quite pleased with how he rebuilt my face and the new teeth are pretty great. It's been a year now and all seems well. I count myself blessed by medical technology.
I'm happy to do the shopping this time because I have actual lists with real ideas. I won't be just wandering in hell, I mean the mall. Lists and ideas can be fabulous things.
The dog is recovering very well and bed rest is almost over. Happy times for all of us. Although, it is really hard to tell when a basset hound is on bed rest, it looks about the same as regular life for her.
Last, I'd like to ask you to pray for one of my friends. She's in a really hard stretch of life, she is being stretched in ways she never expected and in a way I think her heart is breaking. Pray for peace for her and mercy in her situation.
I know this is an all over the place post today, but there is lots of excitement in the house from all the little people. It makes it a little hard to concentrate or keep a single thought going in the brain.
I'm always a bit of a last minute, late in the game shopper and the weather this year isn't helping me. Quite a few of my shopping trips have been thwarted by icky icy freezing stupid cold Wisconsin winter. Considering winter only began last night, it is a bit insane.
Anyway, done whining. I'm actually in a great mood and looking forward to my shopping afternoon and evening. I'm also hoping I'll be having my last dental check up with my surgeon. I'm quite pleased with how he rebuilt my face and the new teeth are pretty great. It's been a year now and all seems well. I count myself blessed by medical technology.
I'm happy to do the shopping this time because I have actual lists with real ideas. I won't be just wandering in hell, I mean the mall. Lists and ideas can be fabulous things.
The dog is recovering very well and bed rest is almost over. Happy times for all of us. Although, it is really hard to tell when a basset hound is on bed rest, it looks about the same as regular life for her.
Last, I'd like to ask you to pray for one of my friends. She's in a really hard stretch of life, she is being stretched in ways she never expected and in a way I think her heart is breaking. Pray for peace for her and mercy in her situation.
I know this is an all over the place post today, but there is lots of excitement in the house from all the little people. It makes it a little hard to concentrate or keep a single thought going in the brain.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Holiday Snipits
The pictures are really for those of you not here, like my Texas friend spending her holiday in California.
Although I miss the special cookies of my childhood and the fancy cookies I made before kids, I am enjoying the wonders of cookie dough in a tube and frosting in a can. These two things made cookie making happen in my house this year. There are just enough cookies to feel like we're having a treat but not so many that anyone is having insulin shock. There were enough to decorate and frost to keep it fun and not so many to drive everyone into frustration. The best part might have been that when it was all over I had just a few things to wash and a few things to throw away. I wasn't bogged down under ingredients and mixing bowls and measuring cups and all that other stuff.
Now those of you that know me well may remember my time in the kitchen. You may have even eaten some of all the homemade things that came out of my kitchen. There was my year of Titus treats and coffee cakes. My family really enjoyed eating the experiments that year. The braided bread I made in my life before kids. Maybe you've been to my house for a pasta night. Anyway, it isn't that I've given up my love of all things kitchen and cooking, not at all. It's the opposite really. I want to keep my kitchen time a happy thing in my mind and heart, so in my life full of kids, that means keep it really simple and speedy. Keep it fun for the kids and build the memories. I'll get back to the complex food later.
Dollar stores are a blessing. They are some of my least favorite places to go, but suddenly being a family of six this year, we were in serious need of basics like Christmas stockings. It was also a great place to stock up gift wrap, tags and bows.
Gift wrapping tips for kids: When in doubt, use more tape.
The best way to see the snow falling is by sitting in front of the fireplace and watching it out the window.
Watch the movies. Break out the blankets. Give in and order out. Stay up, sleep in. Eat some treats.
Enjoy the giving.
Smile while you shop.
Laugh while you shop.
Read. Sip. Read more. Snooze. Read some more.
Decide it's OK to smirk at your very manly neighbor walking his daughters little mini-dog in her pink doggie sweater.
The Littlest Mr. dodged a bullet yesterday. Our snow in the front yard is now piled up somewhere between waist and shoulder high on me. Now, I'm around 5 feet tall, so that isn't real high, but if you're 6 & 10, that's pretty great. Their bright plan was to jump down from the climbing tree into the snow banks. I think it probably was fun for a while. While I'm sitting inside with Little Miss and Little One I hear screaming. Lots of screaming. I first thought they were playing. Then I thought they were fighting. Either way, I thought I'd let them handle it. Then something about the screaming made me go to the door. There was The Littlest Mr. dangling from the tree. I thought he was hanging there because his boot fell off. I went out to help him and then it became like an episode of the Three Stooges. I stepped out into the snow to help him and sunk in up past my butt. Then I got a hold of him and told him to let go. Meanwhile, he's still shrieking. This is when I realized he's not holding on to the tree. He is hanging by his wrist which is caught in the crook of one of the branches.
No wonder he's screaming like a wild cat caught in a trap. His whole body weight plus wet snow gear is hanging from one wrist. To get him out, I had to lift him up. Once his arm was out, we fell over into the snow. But remember, this is snow up past my waist. Putting my arms down to help myself get up just put me even deeper into the snow. By this time The Mr. is helping to pull us both out of the snow.
He is a very resilient little man. We packed him up in ice last night and checked him over again this morning. There seems to be no more damage than a few scrapes and bruises, a few sore muscles and a healthy respect for the climbing tree and snow banks. His mama, on the other hand, has had enough trauma drama for the whole holiday season.
There is a week yet to go, and I'm going to keep repeating my holiday mantra. Please play safe, I don't want anyone to break a bone before the holiday.
And no, it won't be OK with me to break a bone after the holiday either, but it's just the thing I say.
Lady Dog is getting used to being on bed rest and seems to be having a great recovery.
Although I miss the special cookies of my childhood and the fancy cookies I made before kids, I am enjoying the wonders of cookie dough in a tube and frosting in a can. These two things made cookie making happen in my house this year. There are just enough cookies to feel like we're having a treat but not so many that anyone is having insulin shock. There were enough to decorate and frost to keep it fun and not so many to drive everyone into frustration. The best part might have been that when it was all over I had just a few things to wash and a few things to throw away. I wasn't bogged down under ingredients and mixing bowls and measuring cups and all that other stuff.
Now those of you that know me well may remember my time in the kitchen. You may have even eaten some of all the homemade things that came out of my kitchen. There was my year of Titus treats and coffee cakes. My family really enjoyed eating the experiments that year. The braided bread I made in my life before kids. Maybe you've been to my house for a pasta night. Anyway, it isn't that I've given up my love of all things kitchen and cooking, not at all. It's the opposite really. I want to keep my kitchen time a happy thing in my mind and heart, so in my life full of kids, that means keep it really simple and speedy. Keep it fun for the kids and build the memories. I'll get back to the complex food later.
Dollar stores are a blessing. They are some of my least favorite places to go, but suddenly being a family of six this year, we were in serious need of basics like Christmas stockings. It was also a great place to stock up gift wrap, tags and bows.
Gift wrapping tips for kids: When in doubt, use more tape.
The best way to see the snow falling is by sitting in front of the fireplace and watching it out the window.
Watch the movies. Break out the blankets. Give in and order out. Stay up, sleep in. Eat some treats.
Enjoy the giving.
Smile while you shop.
Laugh while you shop.
Read. Sip. Read more. Snooze. Read some more.
Decide it's OK to smirk at your very manly neighbor walking his daughters little mini-dog in her pink doggie sweater.
The Littlest Mr. dodged a bullet yesterday. Our snow in the front yard is now piled up somewhere between waist and shoulder high on me. Now, I'm around 5 feet tall, so that isn't real high, but if you're 6 & 10, that's pretty great. Their bright plan was to jump down from the climbing tree into the snow banks. I think it probably was fun for a while. While I'm sitting inside with Little Miss and Little One I hear screaming. Lots of screaming. I first thought they were playing. Then I thought they were fighting. Either way, I thought I'd let them handle it. Then something about the screaming made me go to the door. There was The Littlest Mr. dangling from the tree. I thought he was hanging there because his boot fell off. I went out to help him and then it became like an episode of the Three Stooges. I stepped out into the snow to help him and sunk in up past my butt. Then I got a hold of him and told him to let go. Meanwhile, he's still shrieking. This is when I realized he's not holding on to the tree. He is hanging by his wrist which is caught in the crook of one of the branches.
No wonder he's screaming like a wild cat caught in a trap. His whole body weight plus wet snow gear is hanging from one wrist. To get him out, I had to lift him up. Once his arm was out, we fell over into the snow. But remember, this is snow up past my waist. Putting my arms down to help myself get up just put me even deeper into the snow. By this time The Mr. is helping to pull us both out of the snow.
He is a very resilient little man. We packed him up in ice last night and checked him over again this morning. There seems to be no more damage than a few scrapes and bruises, a few sore muscles and a healthy respect for the climbing tree and snow banks. His mama, on the other hand, has had enough trauma drama for the whole holiday season.
There is a week yet to go, and I'm going to keep repeating my holiday mantra. Please play safe, I don't want anyone to break a bone before the holiday.
And no, it won't be OK with me to break a bone after the holiday either, but it's just the thing I say.
Lady Dog is getting used to being on bed rest and seems to be having a great recovery.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Over Kill
Honestly now, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Here in our house we all look forward to and enjoy a white Christmas. We all love a fresh new coating of white fluffy stuff to cover over all the "old" snow. We really do.
But this.
Quite frankly, it's too much. And not just because The Mr. had to be in Appleton at 8AM today, blizzard day. Not just because we've already shoveled out from under double digit amounts of snow. Not just because winter doesn't being for 2 more days. Not just because my dog is on bed rest and I have to be escorting her every piddle. Not just because she's a basset hound and the snow is well above her head.
I think I'm still a little burnt out or over snowed from last year.
Winter doesn't even begin until Sunday night and I'm already wondering how I will maintain my sanity until spring.
The kids will be bored with snow play by mid January at this rate--a month too soon. The flakes will loose their novelty. The sleds will be stashed in the back of the garage. The forts will have seen all the snow ball fights anyone is willing to do. The snowmen will have whole family trees complete with frozen family reunions if the snow keeps on coming like this for the whole winter season.
What if snow really continues to fall all the way until spring??? I'm not that tall, I could be buried!!
I think my brain is frozen!
But this.
Quite frankly, it's too much. And not just because The Mr. had to be in Appleton at 8AM today, blizzard day. Not just because we've already shoveled out from under double digit amounts of snow. Not just because winter doesn't being for 2 more days. Not just because my dog is on bed rest and I have to be escorting her every piddle. Not just because she's a basset hound and the snow is well above her head.
I think I'm still a little burnt out or over snowed from last year.
Winter doesn't even begin until Sunday night and I'm already wondering how I will maintain my sanity until spring.
The kids will be bored with snow play by mid January at this rate--a month too soon. The flakes will loose their novelty. The sleds will be stashed in the back of the garage. The forts will have seen all the snow ball fights anyone is willing to do. The snowmen will have whole family trees complete with frozen family reunions if the snow keeps on coming like this for the whole winter season.
What if snow really continues to fall all the way until spring??? I'm not that tall, I could be buried!!
I think my brain is frozen!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Holiday Hag
This is the week of the holiday season that I don't love. My stress level is climbing, my sleep level is almost non-existent and I'm looking at every day thinking if I can just make it through it without being a major shrew, then it's a win.
The kids have the pre-Christmas crazies and my dog is on bed rest. When I look in the mirror I see myself the way I think others are seeing me, pudgy, half-gray, getting wrinkles and dark circled eyes. I feel shocked by the realization that whole groups of people I thought were my age are really a decade younger than I am. Strange indeed.
It is the week of guilt for me. My list of things I wanted to do far out weighs the amount of things I'll actually be able to get done. The necessary and obvious things will be accomplished, but there will be in the back of my mind the long list of wish I could have's.
It seems part of my energy this week gets spent on looking back over the year. I'm filled up with the what if's and why didn't I's. You know them I bet. What if I'd started my holiday shopping in fall or even in November? What if I'd thought about Christmas cards before, oh, say, yesterday? That letter to go with the kids picture cards that should have been written months ago and now will most likely never be written. The blankets for the boys I meant to finish up months ago. The great gift ideas I've just thought of that will take great effort to pull off, and the dread that they won't be worth it. The programs I wanted to go to but couldn't pull off all the arrangements for. The phone calls I meant to return and the cozy coffee meetings and the girlfriend dinners I missed. The house projects left undone.
I think of all the people I've lost touch with or the relationships I've messed up and the people who have me on the not so welcome list. I think of all the craft projects that the kids could have made for great gifts. There are all the great holiday kids/family Christian things we could have done, like Jesse Trees or Jotham's Journey. My reflections of the year gone by are clouded in dark words like evaluation instead of grace words like acceptance.
There is the holiday hosting to plan and prep for. The holiday get togethers that require me to get it together and get us there together. There is the impending snow that will lend us a beautiful backdrop for our Christmas, but will exhaust us in the traveling and shoveling. Just getting the 4 kids into their snow gear, into and out of where ever we're going and back home again is depleting. Don't even ask me about the actual activity whether it's the store or a doctor appointment or a lesson, it's taxing. The guilt of not being a big holiday decorator, even though I explain, defend and believe in my 2 year old in the house over the holiday policy, I still feel like I should have pulled out all the stuff and put it up.
Don't worry, it's never a lingering thing with me. I just have a few days every year of this sensation that the holiday season is too much for me. In the end, I crank up the tunes, sip my seasonal cocoas, teas, coffees and ciders. I enjoy my fire place family time. I watch It's A Wonderful Life. I linger in front of the tree late at night seeing all it's beauty instead of everything else. I revel in every one's cards and letters. I read and reread The Christmas Story. I find the quiet time to marvel at The Miracle. I will enjoy, love and treasure every moment of all the parties and festivities. I'll cherish the looks on the faces of all those who receive. I get teary over my little ones while they're fast asleep. I see each and every blessing in my life for it's utter extravagance, knowing that I am indeed covered by God's grace, and it's enough.
It is more than enough.
The kids have the pre-Christmas crazies and my dog is on bed rest. When I look in the mirror I see myself the way I think others are seeing me, pudgy, half-gray, getting wrinkles and dark circled eyes. I feel shocked by the realization that whole groups of people I thought were my age are really a decade younger than I am. Strange indeed.
It is the week of guilt for me. My list of things I wanted to do far out weighs the amount of things I'll actually be able to get done. The necessary and obvious things will be accomplished, but there will be in the back of my mind the long list of wish I could have's.
It seems part of my energy this week gets spent on looking back over the year. I'm filled up with the what if's and why didn't I's. You know them I bet. What if I'd started my holiday shopping in fall or even in November? What if I'd thought about Christmas cards before, oh, say, yesterday? That letter to go with the kids picture cards that should have been written months ago and now will most likely never be written. The blankets for the boys I meant to finish up months ago. The great gift ideas I've just thought of that will take great effort to pull off, and the dread that they won't be worth it. The programs I wanted to go to but couldn't pull off all the arrangements for. The phone calls I meant to return and the cozy coffee meetings and the girlfriend dinners I missed. The house projects left undone.
I think of all the people I've lost touch with or the relationships I've messed up and the people who have me on the not so welcome list. I think of all the craft projects that the kids could have made for great gifts. There are all the great holiday kids/family Christian things we could have done, like Jesse Trees or Jotham's Journey. My reflections of the year gone by are clouded in dark words like evaluation instead of grace words like acceptance.
There is the holiday hosting to plan and prep for. The holiday get togethers that require me to get it together and get us there together. There is the impending snow that will lend us a beautiful backdrop for our Christmas, but will exhaust us in the traveling and shoveling. Just getting the 4 kids into their snow gear, into and out of where ever we're going and back home again is depleting. Don't even ask me about the actual activity whether it's the store or a doctor appointment or a lesson, it's taxing. The guilt of not being a big holiday decorator, even though I explain, defend and believe in my 2 year old in the house over the holiday policy, I still feel like I should have pulled out all the stuff and put it up.
Don't worry, it's never a lingering thing with me. I just have a few days every year of this sensation that the holiday season is too much for me. In the end, I crank up the tunes, sip my seasonal cocoas, teas, coffees and ciders. I enjoy my fire place family time. I watch It's A Wonderful Life. I linger in front of the tree late at night seeing all it's beauty instead of everything else. I revel in every one's cards and letters. I read and reread The Christmas Story. I find the quiet time to marvel at The Miracle. I will enjoy, love and treasure every moment of all the parties and festivities. I'll cherish the looks on the faces of all those who receive. I get teary over my little ones while they're fast asleep. I see each and every blessing in my life for it's utter extravagance, knowing that I am indeed covered by God's grace, and it's enough.
It is more than enough.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Door Knobs & Christmas Lights
This is a two year old year in our house.
That means I leave most of my Christmas stuff in it's boxes in the basement. I always want to spend more of my holiday time--that chunk of time between Thanksgiving and New Years--just enjoying life and not yelling at the little ones to stop touching. I came to this after my first two year old Christmas when things got broken and I got bent out of shape over the things. It's not worth it. I just leave it in the boxes. There will be plenty of years without little ones to spend the season looking at all the pretties.
I've also come to discover that the more simple things are, the less greedy the kids become. Our holiday focus is on better things than all the toys on TV.
So our tree this year features lights. White lights and "glass" bead garland and any construction paper ornaments that get made in the next few days (and last through said 2 year old). Sometimes copy paper snowflakes appear or red and green paper chains.
Once in a while it gets filled up with action figures and other unusual things. Those I'm taking pictures of and will share shortly. You'll love the glow in the dark snake.
We crank up the holiday radio station and let it play day and night. We brew up peppermint tea and watch cartoon specials on TV. We hang out in front of the fireplace with our blankets. We read The Christmas Story.
Thanks to Amazon, we also just learned that Santa really looks a lot like a US Postal Worker. The imaginations these kids have.
Maybe tomorrow I'll come to tell you how I've been locked out of my own bedroom and the dog's been locked in. It certainly explains where the door knobs went!
That means I leave most of my Christmas stuff in it's boxes in the basement. I always want to spend more of my holiday time--that chunk of time between Thanksgiving and New Years--just enjoying life and not yelling at the little ones to stop touching. I came to this after my first two year old Christmas when things got broken and I got bent out of shape over the things. It's not worth it. I just leave it in the boxes. There will be plenty of years without little ones to spend the season looking at all the pretties.
I've also come to discover that the more simple things are, the less greedy the kids become. Our holiday focus is on better things than all the toys on TV.
So our tree this year features lights. White lights and "glass" bead garland and any construction paper ornaments that get made in the next few days (and last through said 2 year old). Sometimes copy paper snowflakes appear or red and green paper chains.
Once in a while it gets filled up with action figures and other unusual things. Those I'm taking pictures of and will share shortly. You'll love the glow in the dark snake.
We crank up the holiday radio station and let it play day and night. We brew up peppermint tea and watch cartoon specials on TV. We hang out in front of the fireplace with our blankets. We read The Christmas Story.
Thanks to Amazon, we also just learned that Santa really looks a lot like a US Postal Worker. The imaginations these kids have.
Maybe tomorrow I'll come to tell you how I've been locked out of my own bedroom and the dog's been locked in. It certainly explains where the door knobs went!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Well, Of Course It Isn't Working Out
That's just how things go.
I spent part of my night in a wonderful Bible. I had some great ideas about things I really wanted to share and write about, but, I also have a baby.
That baby isn't real interested in sleeping tonight.
So, what you're going to get is a few brief notes that I hope will jog my memory tomorrow.
Tonight--The Christmas Story--The classic version in Luke, but we also looked at Matthew.
Our verse--My verse--Luke 1:38
Mary responded, "I am the Lord's servant, and I am willing to accept whatever He wants. May everything you have said come true." And then the angel left.
I am willing to accept whatever He wants.
willing to accept whatever
It relates, believe me, it relates.
With Little Miss God said wait, for now, just wait.
Inside my cloudy sleep deprived mind, this makes crystal clear sense.
Perhaps with daylight and coffee I'll have some clarity for all of us.
Either way, I know I'll be dwelling on this verse for a while. I think it may be like the year or so that I was constantly repeating the verse, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, and He will make your paths straight."
Back then I was in transition from a life I couldn't even begin to make sense of to a life filled with the promise of hope.
Even now, I can picture myself, walking around and around the block with my dog, focused on nothing but that verse. It was almost like a mantra that I chanted to sooth my soul.
For a long time, I did not understand and parts of it all I still don't understand, but I've learned a lot since then. Reading that Bible will do that to you. As I read, I learned, we aren't meant to understand all that God understands. That would be too much for us.
Now, again, I find myself in a stretch of life that is filled up with segments that I don't and can't understand, but I no longer feel the need to strive to find that understanding, but I'm not Mary either.
Most times I'm not able to "willingly accept whatever He wants".
It's the willingly part that trips me up.
My will is real strong, but it's not a will that willingly bends to God. I'm human after all, a human after the fall. My will wants what it wants, just like a two year old.
And there you have some jumbled up late night thoughts.
Now, I'm hoping the medicine has kicked in for the baby, he's sleeping soundly and I can feed him and crawl, weary to bed, just so I can get up and do it all again at 3:30AM.
The things we do for the least of these...
I spent part of my night in a wonderful Bible. I had some great ideas about things I really wanted to share and write about, but, I also have a baby.
That baby isn't real interested in sleeping tonight.
So, what you're going to get is a few brief notes that I hope will jog my memory tomorrow.
Tonight--The Christmas Story--The classic version in Luke, but we also looked at Matthew.
Our verse--My verse--Luke 1:38
Mary responded, "I am the Lord's servant, and I am willing to accept whatever He wants. May everything you have said come true." And then the angel left.
I am willing to accept whatever He wants.
willing to accept whatever
It relates, believe me, it relates.
With Little Miss God said wait, for now, just wait.
Inside my cloudy sleep deprived mind, this makes crystal clear sense.
Perhaps with daylight and coffee I'll have some clarity for all of us.
Either way, I know I'll be dwelling on this verse for a while. I think it may be like the year or so that I was constantly repeating the verse, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, and He will make your paths straight."
Back then I was in transition from a life I couldn't even begin to make sense of to a life filled with the promise of hope.
Even now, I can picture myself, walking around and around the block with my dog, focused on nothing but that verse. It was almost like a mantra that I chanted to sooth my soul.
For a long time, I did not understand and parts of it all I still don't understand, but I've learned a lot since then. Reading that Bible will do that to you. As I read, I learned, we aren't meant to understand all that God understands. That would be too much for us.
Now, again, I find myself in a stretch of life that is filled up with segments that I don't and can't understand, but I no longer feel the need to strive to find that understanding, but I'm not Mary either.
Most times I'm not able to "willingly accept whatever He wants".
It's the willingly part that trips me up.
My will is real strong, but it's not a will that willingly bends to God. I'm human after all, a human after the fall. My will wants what it wants, just like a two year old.
And there you have some jumbled up late night thoughts.
Now, I'm hoping the medicine has kicked in for the baby, he's sleeping soundly and I can feed him and crawl, weary to bed, just so I can get up and do it all again at 3:30AM.
The things we do for the least of these...
Monday, December 8, 2008
Legal Garbage
Just an update. Thanks to the birth mom and her lawyer the trial has been pushed back to late January.
Oh how I love the legal system.
Oh how I love the legal system.
Words, Words, Words
In an attempt to bury my head in the sand, I'm going to ignore posting about the obvious (trial is happening as I type) and use today's writing prompt from One Minute Writer.
One of the precious things in my life that has no monetary value what so ever is all in boxes in my basement. There are years of notes and letters back and forth between The Mr. and I.
Way back, in prehistoric times, we were high school students together. Me, a lowly underclassman and him, a "man" with a car. Anyway, we found over time, the written word was our link.
If you know The Mr. even a little, you know he is not a talker. I mean, even now, he is not much for spoken words, even when he's on the other side of the world and has been for days. Our phone conversations go something like this:
"Hi"
"Hi, honey, blah, blah, kids, food, dog, blah, blah, blah, laundry, behavior, school, blah, blah, blah..."
"Um, yeah, great. I love you. I'll call tomorrow."
Now, in that blah, blah part where I'm talking for an hour, he's dying to get off the phone.
It's just who he is. It's not an old married thing. Way back in the day when we first began he was that way. I'd call and he'd be quiet.
For me, a person who thrives on lots of communication, it was a major relationship glitch that I was anxious to find a fix to. We ended up with the notebooks.
I would write a note in a notebook, mine were pages and pages long, of course and then as the day went on and I ran into him in the hallway at school I could just hand him the notebook and keep on walking. It also helped the cool factor. Upperclassmen aren't supposed to date underclassmen unless they are super hot or easy, neither of which was me! He'd find a time to write back to me and pass it back.
Our notebook habit kept up until graduation. The Mr. chose to go to a distant college. So for a while, we were back to the silent phone conversations and the cool factor. Again, college frat men don't date high school girls.
And so the letter writing began.
We sent letters and post cards back and forth to each other almost daily for years.
Those are the things I have in boxes in my basement. Boxes and boxes of notebooks and letters. Post cards and silly cards and pages of nothing and pages of things I'm not sure I'd ever want my kiddos to read!
It was the start of something for us.
Into our marriage, it became email. Now we live in the land of text messages.
For us, it's wonderful. It brings us to a different level of communication. We communicate a lot more often and often a lot more clearly thanks to the written word.
So here's a challenge, just because I'm feeling spunky, write you lovey a special love note for each of the 12 days of Christmas and see what happens. It doesn't have to be Shakespeare quality sonnets, rhyming verse or even stellar prose, but it does have to come from the heart.
Sometimes the best words are clear and simple in blue ball point pen taped to the outside of a bag of straws.
Ah, Mr., who knew that our journey would take us this far?
One of the precious things in my life that has no monetary value what so ever is all in boxes in my basement. There are years of notes and letters back and forth between The Mr. and I.
Way back, in prehistoric times, we were high school students together. Me, a lowly underclassman and him, a "man" with a car. Anyway, we found over time, the written word was our link.
If you know The Mr. even a little, you know he is not a talker. I mean, even now, he is not much for spoken words, even when he's on the other side of the world and has been for days. Our phone conversations go something like this:
"Hi"
"Hi, honey, blah, blah, kids, food, dog, blah, blah, blah, laundry, behavior, school, blah, blah, blah..."
"Um, yeah, great. I love you. I'll call tomorrow."
Now, in that blah, blah part where I'm talking for an hour, he's dying to get off the phone.
It's just who he is. It's not an old married thing. Way back in the day when we first began he was that way. I'd call and he'd be quiet.
For me, a person who thrives on lots of communication, it was a major relationship glitch that I was anxious to find a fix to. We ended up with the notebooks.
I would write a note in a notebook, mine were pages and pages long, of course and then as the day went on and I ran into him in the hallway at school I could just hand him the notebook and keep on walking. It also helped the cool factor. Upperclassmen aren't supposed to date underclassmen unless they are super hot or easy, neither of which was me! He'd find a time to write back to me and pass it back.
Our notebook habit kept up until graduation. The Mr. chose to go to a distant college. So for a while, we were back to the silent phone conversations and the cool factor. Again, college frat men don't date high school girls.
And so the letter writing began.
We sent letters and post cards back and forth to each other almost daily for years.
Those are the things I have in boxes in my basement. Boxes and boxes of notebooks and letters. Post cards and silly cards and pages of nothing and pages of things I'm not sure I'd ever want my kiddos to read!
It was the start of something for us.
Into our marriage, it became email. Now we live in the land of text messages.
For us, it's wonderful. It brings us to a different level of communication. We communicate a lot more often and often a lot more clearly thanks to the written word.
So here's a challenge, just because I'm feeling spunky, write you lovey a special love note for each of the 12 days of Christmas and see what happens. It doesn't have to be Shakespeare quality sonnets, rhyming verse or even stellar prose, but it does have to come from the heart.
Sometimes the best words are clear and simple in blue ball point pen taped to the outside of a bag of straws.
Ah, Mr., who knew that our journey would take us this far?
Saturday, December 6, 2008
The Toilet Paper Post
Every family blog needs to have at least one entry about toilet paper, right? So here's one for this year.
Today was a typical Saturday for us. The Mr. did the first round of errands with half the kids and I did things around here with the babies. After lunch it was my turn. I get an opportunity to run errands with no kids. If you've ever grocery shopped for a big family with more than one kid helping you, you understand what a tremendous blessing this really is. All that shopping "help" can sometimes make even this mom come unglued.
Anyway, today I saw something at the grocery store that made me laugh out loud in the aisle. I know I laughed because another shopper turned around to see what I was laughing about. Not a lot of laughing happens in grocery stores on Saturdays.
What was so funny?
A company is marketing seasonal toilet paper. It was printed with snowflakes.
Now, again, if you have kids, you already have enough toilet issues in the house. Printed toilet paper will not help.
I have two "big" boys and I can hear the conversations now.
"I just wiped my butt with snowflakes!"
"How many?"
And from there? Well, let's just say things would go down the toilet...or at least I would really be hoping for that!
Where will it end? After the snow flakes will we see Valentine's hearts? Ewe. How about leprechauns for St. Patrick's? Easter bunnies? Or worse yet Jesus on the cross or Jesus risen from the tomb?
Seriously, no good can come out of this.
Seasonal toilet paper.
Today was a typical Saturday for us. The Mr. did the first round of errands with half the kids and I did things around here with the babies. After lunch it was my turn. I get an opportunity to run errands with no kids. If you've ever grocery shopped for a big family with more than one kid helping you, you understand what a tremendous blessing this really is. All that shopping "help" can sometimes make even this mom come unglued.
Anyway, today I saw something at the grocery store that made me laugh out loud in the aisle. I know I laughed because another shopper turned around to see what I was laughing about. Not a lot of laughing happens in grocery stores on Saturdays.
What was so funny?
A company is marketing seasonal toilet paper. It was printed with snowflakes.
Now, again, if you have kids, you already have enough toilet issues in the house. Printed toilet paper will not help.
I have two "big" boys and I can hear the conversations now.
"I just wiped my butt with snowflakes!"
"How many?"
And from there? Well, let's just say things would go down the toilet...or at least I would really be hoping for that!
Where will it end? After the snow flakes will we see Valentine's hearts? Ewe. How about leprechauns for St. Patrick's? Easter bunnies? Or worse yet Jesus on the cross or Jesus risen from the tomb?
Seriously, no good can come out of this.
Seasonal toilet paper.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Lighter Notes
It's come to my attention that my blog has taken a turn toward the dark side.
Picture me breathing like Darth Mama right now.
I thought I'd lighten it up with a list of thankfuls.
*Kids who choose a family night over other activities.
*Houses with fireplaces.
*Clients that send boxes of chocolates, good chocolates.
*Fresh snow and moonlight.
*Golf club size boxes and UPS delivery.
*Internet, cell phones, text messaging, and instant messaging.
*Friends
*Family
*Prayers
*2 year olds that sing worship songs and squeal in delight.
*6 year olds that profess their love for their sibs.
*Baby smiles
*10 year olds that handle the "nasty" stuff like vomit of sibs.
*Blankets, dogs and cooking shows.
*Owning a washer and dryer.
*Laughter
Picture me breathing like Darth Mama right now.
I thought I'd lighten it up with a list of thankfuls.
*Kids who choose a family night over other activities.
*Houses with fireplaces.
*Clients that send boxes of chocolates, good chocolates.
*Fresh snow and moonlight.
*Golf club size boxes and UPS delivery.
*Internet, cell phones, text messaging, and instant messaging.
*Friends
*Family
*Prayers
*2 year olds that sing worship songs and squeal in delight.
*6 year olds that profess their love for their sibs.
*Baby smiles
*10 year olds that handle the "nasty" stuff like vomit of sibs.
*Blankets, dogs and cooking shows.
*Owning a washer and dryer.
*Laughter
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Yesterday afternoon Little Miss decided she could make the dog smell better. She poured a full bottle of garlic powder all over the dog. She started right on top of her head and made a nice straight line all the way down her back, right to her tail. Stupid dog just sat there.
Our home now has that fresh scent of garlic. No vampires this week.
She is getting her 2 year molars among other issues and is just a bucket of fun these days. There is little sleep happening around here and it shows.
In the short stretch of time between when we should lay down for a nap and when we really NEED a nap I was blessed with yet another art project. No, it's not quite as wonderful as the hot pink felt tip mural on the dining room wall, but it's something. Today she added to our collection a nice yellow and brown design on our love seat. Good thing those sofas are older than our oldest kid or I'd be a lot more excited about it.
We're officially on Holiday Break. The blessing of home school, we set our own calendars. We didn't take much time off since the start of the school year with the plan that we would go on break from Thanksgiving until New Years. As the teacher, I always plan more than we can comfortably do in the time allowed. That means when we get to a stretch like this of "break" there is some "catch up" to be done. The trick is getting it done while the kids are still thinking they are on vacation. I'm trying to get them to do little bits here and there, sort of the way I do school anyway. It sounds sort of like this, "Sure you can go play in the snow right after you give me some grammar work." or "PlayStation? Sure, right after you give me some math work." Over all, it works pretty well.
There is little protest because they believe they are getting off easy and getting what they want. In the end it's a win all around. The work gets done, they get to play or something of their choice and the learning slides in on the sides. All good.
Back to teething toddlers, not pretty kids, not pretty.
Our home now has that fresh scent of garlic. No vampires this week.
She is getting her 2 year molars among other issues and is just a bucket of fun these days. There is little sleep happening around here and it shows.
In the short stretch of time between when we should lay down for a nap and when we really NEED a nap I was blessed with yet another art project. No, it's not quite as wonderful as the hot pink felt tip mural on the dining room wall, but it's something. Today she added to our collection a nice yellow and brown design on our love seat. Good thing those sofas are older than our oldest kid or I'd be a lot more excited about it.
We're officially on Holiday Break. The blessing of home school, we set our own calendars. We didn't take much time off since the start of the school year with the plan that we would go on break from Thanksgiving until New Years. As the teacher, I always plan more than we can comfortably do in the time allowed. That means when we get to a stretch like this of "break" there is some "catch up" to be done. The trick is getting it done while the kids are still thinking they are on vacation. I'm trying to get them to do little bits here and there, sort of the way I do school anyway. It sounds sort of like this, "Sure you can go play in the snow right after you give me some grammar work." or "PlayStation? Sure, right after you give me some math work." Over all, it works pretty well.
There is little protest because they believe they are getting off easy and getting what they want. In the end it's a win all around. The work gets done, they get to play or something of their choice and the learning slides in on the sides. All good.
Back to teething toddlers, not pretty kids, not pretty.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
A Message In The Snow
Sometimes my inability to make a computer do what I want it do yields a great surprise. Perhaps it is linked to my impatience with small print. I just don't do a good job of taking the time to read it all and figure it out before I press the button.
Anyway, my hurry up and push the button on Face Book this morning brought back into the circle some friends I haven't heard from in a long time. And that, my friends, is a wonderful treat.
Well, it was another long morning coming back from therapy and it wasn't just the snow and bad drivers. It was all the stuff running around in my head.
See, we are now less than a week from resolving some of the tension in our home. The problem is, I'm less certain by the day of how this will resolve or if I'll be able to handle it with all the grace I want to.
The trial for Little Miss begins on Monday. The Mr. and I are expecting to be called to testify late Tuesday or early Wednesday. I have such mixed feelings over all this.
I will not be asked specifically to testify against her mom, but in a way, it feels like I will. I do know that I will be asked a lot of questions and I'll be sitting in front of the judge, the jury and her mom. It's making me a bit sick to the stomach.
It would be a hard enough spot to sit in if I knew that after that part of the trial Little Miss would just live mostly happily ever after with us, but that is in question these days.
I know that there will always be questions that plague her about her birth family, but now I'm worried that there will be life long questions about us too. I know that she is very little, but I know that she will remember us. Even if they are not vivid memories, there will be some vague things that bring to mind something lost. I hate to think that we will be lost to her.
I worry what it will do to her picture of life if she is taken, again, from all she knows as home and family.
I'm not enjoying how the whole thing is playing out around here either. None of us are really equipped to process this. The Little Mr.'s are having some serious difficulty processing the fact that our days with Little Miss may be coming to an end. They are each trying out different things to see if it will make it hurt less.
We all are.
And it doesn't.
It doesn't hurt less.
Not even when it's buried under chocolate and diet coke.
Now, I know that God has a plan for her and we may very well have done all we were ever meant to do in her life and I'm OK with that. I can be content in my obedience to the Lord and still feel pain over it. I wouldn't be human if I didn't. I've loved this child full out and to let her go is impossible to put into words.
As I drove along through the snow, I realized something. This is God's story to tell, His to write the ending to. It will be a part of my testimony to His glory. It is not mine to understand. I will walk by faith. I will live this out on my knees.
I will comfort my boys as they struggle to understand something that seems to make no sense.
I will love full out on the next child the county sends my way. I will invest in Little One and every one after him just like they were my own.
Anyway, my hurry up and push the button on Face Book this morning brought back into the circle some friends I haven't heard from in a long time. And that, my friends, is a wonderful treat.
Well, it was another long morning coming back from therapy and it wasn't just the snow and bad drivers. It was all the stuff running around in my head.
See, we are now less than a week from resolving some of the tension in our home. The problem is, I'm less certain by the day of how this will resolve or if I'll be able to handle it with all the grace I want to.
The trial for Little Miss begins on Monday. The Mr. and I are expecting to be called to testify late Tuesday or early Wednesday. I have such mixed feelings over all this.
I will not be asked specifically to testify against her mom, but in a way, it feels like I will. I do know that I will be asked a lot of questions and I'll be sitting in front of the judge, the jury and her mom. It's making me a bit sick to the stomach.
It would be a hard enough spot to sit in if I knew that after that part of the trial Little Miss would just live mostly happily ever after with us, but that is in question these days.
I know that there will always be questions that plague her about her birth family, but now I'm worried that there will be life long questions about us too. I know that she is very little, but I know that she will remember us. Even if they are not vivid memories, there will be some vague things that bring to mind something lost. I hate to think that we will be lost to her.
I worry what it will do to her picture of life if she is taken, again, from all she knows as home and family.
I'm not enjoying how the whole thing is playing out around here either. None of us are really equipped to process this. The Little Mr.'s are having some serious difficulty processing the fact that our days with Little Miss may be coming to an end. They are each trying out different things to see if it will make it hurt less.
We all are.
And it doesn't.
It doesn't hurt less.
Not even when it's buried under chocolate and diet coke.
Now, I know that God has a plan for her and we may very well have done all we were ever meant to do in her life and I'm OK with that. I can be content in my obedience to the Lord and still feel pain over it. I wouldn't be human if I didn't. I've loved this child full out and to let her go is impossible to put into words.
As I drove along through the snow, I realized something. This is God's story to tell, His to write the ending to. It will be a part of my testimony to His glory. It is not mine to understand. I will walk by faith. I will live this out on my knees.
I will comfort my boys as they struggle to understand something that seems to make no sense.
I will love full out on the next child the county sends my way. I will invest in Little One and every one after him just like they were my own.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Scar Story
The One Minute Writer gave this as her topic today. Tell the story of one of your scars.
I have a few, but I'll share the story of the scar I have on the bottom of my chin. There are many of you who have known me for years and years and have probably never noticed the big scar on my face. Thank you modern medicine!
Once upon a time, back in the day, long ago and far away, I lived as a cheerleader. Yes, indeed, me who hates to be noticed in any way, was in fact a cheerleader in high school.
It slips my mind now if I was a freshman or a sophomore, but I do know I was on the JV football cheer squad. In those years, it mattered. It was a big deal to be on any football cheer squad.
Our uniforms were white wool sweaters and the requisite short skirt. White.
Way back then, cheer leading was just starting to get exciting. These were the years that high schools, at least here in the North, were just learning to do bigger stunts like basket tosses. There is a division when you cheer, you are either little and a fly-er, or solid and a base.
In those days, I was very tiny, under 5 feet tall and less than 100 lbs. Thinking back, how I wish I had known then how great that was! I would have enjoyed it way more. Now, I'm just under 5 feet and we won't talk about my weight, especially in the holiday winter hibernating season. Let's just admit that all those hot cocoa marshmallows add up. Anyway, being little meant that I was a fly-er.
I was the girl that went to the top of the mounts. I was the girl that flew through the air.
In short it also meant I was the girl that went splat.
It was a big home game. I have no idea now who we were playing or if we won or lost, but I do remember that there were a lot of people there. A LOT of people. Remember that part where I said how much I didn't like to be the center of attention??
So, it's foot ball, there was some big play happening on the field and we decided to to a stunt. We lined up and the fly-ers went up. I was standing on another girls thighs, leaning forward with my arms up over my head. She was in a sort of squat position and holding my shins. Weight and balance keeping the whole thing from falling over, or at least for a short while.
Somehow we lost our groove and I pitched forward. It all happened way to fast and she wasn't able to let go fast enough. That meant I hit the track full force with my face.
Let's just agree that it wasn't pretty and definitely called attention to me.
So I came around, covered in blood and not opening my mouth real well. I was such a teenage cheer leader girl that my main concern was not getting blood on my white wool sweater. I didn't want to have to pay for the uniform.
I believe that it must have been something to see, this little accident of mine, but I don't really remember. Perhaps, I wasn't making much sense. I do know that there were a lot of people really excited by what was going on.
So excited in fact, that they brought out the team golf cart to take me off the field. Then the packed me into the coaches car and took me to the ER. We were new to the city, my dad was traveling and someone else went and got my mom and brought her to the hospital.
My memories are a bit sketchy, but I really recall being worried about that white wool. I knew I would need stitches on my chin--the blood was a give away. The bigger issue was that I still really couldn't open and shut my mouth properly.
This is where past life experience makes a person mental. Just a few years before I had broken my jaw in another freak accident and so this time around, I was certain that it was not broken again. That sort of thing couldn't be happening. I was certain that it was dislocated and I had a nice argument with the ER doc stating just that. I insisted that it was dislocated, he should put in my stitches, pop the joint back in and let me out of the hospital.
Well, over the next day or two I had surgery to put the whole thing back together. Then I learned how to live with my jaw wired shut for weeks and weeks. Next I went back to school. For weeks and weeks, maybe even a year, I was known as that girl that went off the field on the team cart.
Great way to make an impression in high school.
And that is a short version of how I got my scar.
I have a few, but I'll share the story of the scar I have on the bottom of my chin. There are many of you who have known me for years and years and have probably never noticed the big scar on my face. Thank you modern medicine!
Once upon a time, back in the day, long ago and far away, I lived as a cheerleader. Yes, indeed, me who hates to be noticed in any way, was in fact a cheerleader in high school.
It slips my mind now if I was a freshman or a sophomore, but I do know I was on the JV football cheer squad. In those years, it mattered. It was a big deal to be on any football cheer squad.
Our uniforms were white wool sweaters and the requisite short skirt. White.
Way back then, cheer leading was just starting to get exciting. These were the years that high schools, at least here in the North, were just learning to do bigger stunts like basket tosses. There is a division when you cheer, you are either little and a fly-er, or solid and a base.
In those days, I was very tiny, under 5 feet tall and less than 100 lbs. Thinking back, how I wish I had known then how great that was! I would have enjoyed it way more. Now, I'm just under 5 feet and we won't talk about my weight, especially in the holiday winter hibernating season. Let's just admit that all those hot cocoa marshmallows add up. Anyway, being little meant that I was a fly-er.
I was the girl that went to the top of the mounts. I was the girl that flew through the air.
In short it also meant I was the girl that went splat.
It was a big home game. I have no idea now who we were playing or if we won or lost, but I do remember that there were a lot of people there. A LOT of people. Remember that part where I said how much I didn't like to be the center of attention??
So, it's foot ball, there was some big play happening on the field and we decided to to a stunt. We lined up and the fly-ers went up. I was standing on another girls thighs, leaning forward with my arms up over my head. She was in a sort of squat position and holding my shins. Weight and balance keeping the whole thing from falling over, or at least for a short while.
Somehow we lost our groove and I pitched forward. It all happened way to fast and she wasn't able to let go fast enough. That meant I hit the track full force with my face.
Let's just agree that it wasn't pretty and definitely called attention to me.
So I came around, covered in blood and not opening my mouth real well. I was such a teenage cheer leader girl that my main concern was not getting blood on my white wool sweater. I didn't want to have to pay for the uniform.
I believe that it must have been something to see, this little accident of mine, but I don't really remember. Perhaps, I wasn't making much sense. I do know that there were a lot of people really excited by what was going on.
So excited in fact, that they brought out the team golf cart to take me off the field. Then the packed me into the coaches car and took me to the ER. We were new to the city, my dad was traveling and someone else went and got my mom and brought her to the hospital.
My memories are a bit sketchy, but I really recall being worried about that white wool. I knew I would need stitches on my chin--the blood was a give away. The bigger issue was that I still really couldn't open and shut my mouth properly.
This is where past life experience makes a person mental. Just a few years before I had broken my jaw in another freak accident and so this time around, I was certain that it was not broken again. That sort of thing couldn't be happening. I was certain that it was dislocated and I had a nice argument with the ER doc stating just that. I insisted that it was dislocated, he should put in my stitches, pop the joint back in and let me out of the hospital.
Well, over the next day or two I had surgery to put the whole thing back together. Then I learned how to live with my jaw wired shut for weeks and weeks. Next I went back to school. For weeks and weeks, maybe even a year, I was known as that girl that went off the field on the team cart.
Great way to make an impression in high school.
And that is a short version of how I got my scar.
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