What Kind of Shaker are You?

"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing." II Corinthians 2:15

The aroma of Christ.

What might that be like?

Fragrant?

Appealing?

Peaceful?

To be the aroma of Christ to those around us, to everyone ("those being saved and those perishing"), is a privilege. It is a responsibility.

It is like we are filled up with a spice, a wonderful, healing, spice, that others notice just by our presence. That is an aroma.

What I recently was convicted of, though, is this thought: when others shake us, what comes out?

When we are irritated. When we are bothered. When we are challenged. When we are 'pushed'. When 'our plans' are disrupted. When we don't get our own way. When people hurt us.

Are we more than just people when we are 'shook'?

Are we the aroma of Christ?

It made me think of a spice shaker. If the spice is strong, you can smell it just by being near it. If the spice is strong, you can probably guess what spice is in the shaker without asking.

But the real test is when you shake the shaker, then you know for sure what spice is held within.

What a contradiction it would be to think that a shaker held cinnamon, but when disrupted you see that it actually holds ground tobacco.

When others are near me, I want them to think Christ is within me.

When others 'shake' me, I want them to know Christ is within me.

So, what kind of container are you?

Ten Year Olds

Oh, I just love ten year olds. I love their ingenuity. They can create a full set of armor out of cardboard boxes and duct tape, all the while using scraps and remnants to help little sisters make weapons of destruction.

I love their imagination. They can turn a trip to Wal-mart into a rescue mission on planet Tatooine while evading the Dark Side's ships with force jumps and light-year leaps, all the while leaving you completely oblivious to the dangers until you are safely back in the suburban/Millennium Falcon.

I love their creativity with words. They can use just the right vocabulary and voice inflection to make you think they really would like to eat brussel sprouts for dinner, all the while salivating over and planning for the dessert Papalou brought that you had no idea was sitting in the kitchen.

I love their quick change ability. They can switch from attack mode to protection mode in the blink of an eye while romping around the house and yard with younger siblings, all the while leaving you wincing with worry and smiling sweetly in equal time.

All of these characteristics of ten year olds make my day, they make me giggle and they make me pause.

If I am honest with you, though, the thing I love most about ten year olds is the depth of feeling involved in their opinions and obsessions. They dive right into whatever it is that has their attention. I love hearing their thoughts because they feel them intensely and love sharing them without even considering that you may not be interested or that whatever they are sharing could be 'odd'. I love that they are 'take me as I am' without even knowing it.

I just love ten year olds. I am so glad I get to enjoy six of them.

(What I have to say about Four Year Old, Twelve Year Olds and Six Year Olds.)

Wordless Wednesday: Can't Turn My Back for a Second

Road Trips

When I was in college, I loved road trips. It wasn't about the destination. It was about the traveling. I made many trips on my own and it was nice. I loved wandering through small towns and stopping in little dives to eat. I loved the scenery and singing to the radio or cassette (raise your hand if you remember those).

But, my favorite, being the extrovert that I am, was always road trips with others. Family or friends. Just being together and sharing the experience. The time in the car, hanging out and visiting, was primo.

Then I had kids. The traveling part became less fun. Road trips didn't appeal to me anymore. Don't get me wrong, my kids travel well, but the more people you cram into a suburban who are under the age of ten for more than three hours, the more 'issues' there are. Mess issues. Bathroom issues. Attitude issues. Mess issues.

Recently, though, I got to go on two road trips. The first was to see Voddie, I mean, to go to the Texas Home School Coalition Conference with my dear friend Lisa. It was such a delight. It had been waaaaaaaaay too long since I went on a trip with a friend or loved one. With no one to discipline or be responsible for. We laughed. We shopped. We learned. We rested. After four very difficult years, it was just what I needed. An extended period away. A real road trip.

It never crossed my mind to plan it. It's like I had forgotten a part of me just loves the freedom of a road trip. I had forgotten trips to the Mississippi Coast just with friends just because we could and the beach beckoned. I had forgotten about the times friends and I would ride the back roads in Arkansas with the music blaring, singing at the top of our lungs, simply enjoying being together and enjoying the landscape. I had forgotten about trips to Austin and the Hill Country just to see friends and spend time together. I had forgotten about the trips My Sweetie and I would take just for the fun of it, reading books aloud and laughing about things we didn't know about each other.

The second trip I just took was for homeschooling again. Lisa, Sara and I went to the Texas Home School Coalition Leadership Conference as the president, vice-president and communication officers of our local group. We went to learn. To figure out how to build our group. To learn more ways to bless other homeschoolers in our area. It was chock full of information and ideas, many of which we are eager to put to use. It was a good investment for our group and we're eager to share what we learned.

The best part, for GfG, not for the vice-president of the local homeschool group, was just being with a couple of friends traveling. Talking. Sharing. Teasing. Laughing. Connecting.

It even helped me see that it's important to change my attitude about traveling with the kids. I should view traveling with them more like I view it with friends: a chance to bond. Granted, there will still be messes, but I can help them and myself enjoy the ride. The experience.

It's been a long time, but the road trip is back in my life.
I think now I'll look for one that has no other agenda, save having fun.
I know, crazy, huh?

Thanks, Kara's Nanny!

This chocolate cake is requested for most birthdays in this home. Or holidays. Or dinners.

A Sonlight/Blogger friend gave the recipe to me (thanks, Kara and her Nanny from whom the original recipe came) when I was looking for all natural desserts. It was an instant hit. Everyone loves it, all natural chefs and high-fructose lovin' ones. It's that good.

I share it with you today just because I like you.

Enjoy!

Ingredients:
1 3/4 cups of boiling water
1 cup oatmeal
1 cup sucanat
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup butter
1/2 tsp salt
2 TB cocoa
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour (I use spelt)
12 oz chocolate chips (the only non-all natural ingredient... I tried carob chips but they just didn't do it for me... you can use dark chocolate chips... I use whatever I have or milk chocolate)
3/4 cup chopped nuts


Preheat oven to 350 and grease and flour a 9X13 dish.
Mix boiling water and oatmeal. Let cool (go do some school or blog surfing or FBing or play with your kiddos).
Cream honey, sucanat, butter, eggs, and vanilla. Stir in oatmeal mixture.
Add dry ingredients. Add 1/2 of the chocolate chips.
Pour into prepared pan and sprinkle with remaining chips and the nuts. Bake for 40 min.

Enjoy! We like it warm, but that might be because of how patient we are around here.

Preach It!

I love hearing the Word proclaimed. I love hearing someone share Truth for others to learn, to be encouraged, to be challenged.

You already know I like hearing Voddie.
I also like my pastor/teacher (won't give his name because then you'd know where I live), John Piper, and another local pastor.

Who do you especially enjoy listening to? Please share! I love to hear me some good preachin'!

Can You Guess?

Can you guess where I am today? Two hints:

1) I'm learning lots and being encouraged lots.

2) This photo. If you can figure out who he is, then I bet you can figure out where we are.

Shoes

A few days ago, Papalou brought a bag of items to our home. A few skeins of yarn and a pair of shoes. My heart skipped a beat and then paused when I saw the shoes. They are a special pair of shoes.

They are from Clark's, naturally, and they are adorable, of course. I put them on and walked around in them. I felt lonely. I felt connected. I felt happy. I felt sad. So, goes the grief dance. Always a mix of emotions.

These shoes hold significant meaning because they are the last pair of shoes my mom wore.

As I wore them, I thought about the last autumn she was alive and I thought of this post written exactly one week before she died. I still have a strange feeling when I look in my closet and see a pair of her shoes. I still get an odd sensation when I wear a pair during my day. It's surreal that I walk right by people and they have no idea of the significance of the shoes I am wearing. A part of me wants to cry out, "These are my mom's! She died and it really, really hurts that she is gone! These are not normal shoes, people!" 'Course, if I did that, I might get a visit from a doctor from the local psych ward. I don't want that. Nor do I want to make people feel awkward, so... I just walk around in them.

Sometimes feeling like a little girl playing dress up.
Sometimes feeling like just maybe I've grown up.
Always feeling like I wish she was wearing them instead of me.

Six Year Olds

Oh, I just love six year olds. I just love their sense of purpose and confidence at trying new tasks. They can approach a new school year with eager anticipation and excitement about what they will conquer, I mean, learn and never, ever doubt it will not come to pass just the way they see it in their minds.

I just love their creativity and imagination. They can make a meal they are sure will be the rave of the dinner table (again with the confidence) out of honeydew melon, peanut butter, sunflower seeds and flour. They can draw a picture that they are proud of and see no flaws.

I just love their wide eyed wonder and respect at creation. They can approach a butterfly with the gentleness of a doting mother and at the same time pounce on a fleeing grasshopper with the strength of a Titan.

I just love their pleasure at expressing fondness. They give hugs like they are going out of style and love notes like they are worth their weight in gold (they just might be). They are truly devoted.

Six year olds are beautifully confident. I appreciate that about them and love to spend time with them. They know what they like and they know what they don't like. You don't have to guess with them.

Most of all, I love just holding and listening to six year olds. They are still little enough to be and want to be held, but have the spirit of a child bursting with eagerness in all things.

I'm so grateful I get to enjoy six of them.

(What I have to say about Four Year Olds and Twelve Year Olds.)

A Blog Post

What do you do about trying to think of a good blog post if you started exchanging the summer clothes for the winter clothes the night before at eight o'clock (not finishing of course) and then have a full day the next day...

And

What do you do about trying to think of a good blog post if you have to get ready for a trip you are taking without the family so you need to shop and plan...

And

What do you do about trying to think of a good blog post if you have to pack the family for a trip leaving the day you get back from you independent trip....

And

What do you do about trying to think of a good blog post if you've been staying up waaaaay too late lately and you can't really think all that coherently....

And

What do you do about trying to think of a good blog post when all you can really concentrate on is imaginated scenarios about the next episode of "Bones" from season one your husband rented...

You watch "Bones".
You do not write a good blog post.

Why Do It?

Last week I got sick. Pretty darn sick. I had a sinus infection. Man, they can knock a girl out. I used to get three to four a year. Since I started doing the whole sinus/nasal rinse thing, I hadn't gotten one. BUT... I made the colossal mistake of surrounding myself with dust from the storage unit two times too close to each other. It was bad for my system which seems to violently dislike dust.

I lost my voice for awhile, then I started to get better. Then I opened and messed with some books from the storage unit the second time and that's when things went downhill quickly. My system was already fighting the first round when I sent in dust reinforcements. It only took two days for me to get the full blown sinus infection at that point: pain that kept me up, achy, green discharge (TMI?), feeling miserable.

Used to be, I would call Dr. R for antibiotics. He knows me well and my sinuses too. I didn't have to go in to the clinic, just call and medicine would magically pop up at the pharmacy. Then I started studying all natural medicinal treatments last year and homeopathy this spring.

So... for the first time in my life, I battled a sinus infection naturally. Here's what I did daily:

3000mg Vit C, 400 mg Vit E, peppermint in coconut oil on my chest and under my nose, two doses of homemade lemon, Thieves, and clove oil capsules (seriously ... felt like a pharmacist or drug lord making those... and I mean that in a really good way), three doses Colloidal Silver, and sipping a Echinacea, Super Garlic Immune and Astragalus toddy. Oh, and I slept a lot and/or rested a lot (and I watched Hulu, but I'm not giving Hulu any credit for healing me, just entertaining me).

Why would I bother taking all those things instead of just popping some antibiotics?

Really, the most important reason is that I wanted to strengthen my own immune system to fight the infection instead of putting in drugs to take over my immune system.

Another reason is that the treatments help my body in other ways. Supplementing with vitamins and herbs does good things for my system in general, while antibiotics just kill the bad bacteria in my system along with the good.

Also, I don't want to build up antibodies to antibiotics in case I need them for something serious someday.

Lastly, the money spent on my all natural treatments will be put to good use more than one time. I now have more items in my medicine cabinet that can help me or other family members again. I'm not spending money on something, using it seven to ten days, and then never getting another benefit from it.

So, that's why I did it. Why I'll do it again. If you're interested, ask me anything you'd like. If I can't answer it, I'll take the question to my Wellness Mentor.

I think My Sweetie will finally stop calling all this voo-doo now. Maybe not. He thinks he's pretty funny.

Wee Babe's (Lack of) Words

He's stinkin' cute. He's funny. He's stolen our heart, but... he's still not talking. I've been asked, so I thought I'd give an update.

Though Wee Babe's Neurotologist wants to rule out hearing loss and would really like him to have the ABR test, we do not feel like that is the appropriate step right now. Our reasons are these: he passed his newborn ABR, he passed a sound field test with 15db (meaning he heard sounds in a sound booth that were within normal hearing and better than his mama) after he had tubes put in, and he responds to all kinds of spoken commands, questions and comments with appropriate behavior. We do not want him put under full sedation unless totally necessary. Thankfully, three speech therapists agree (yes, we've consulted three) as does our Family Physician. So, we are proceeding with six months (or less) of speech therapy to see how that helps Wee Babe.

We have involved Early Childhood Intervention. The initial intake evaluation results showed that his language is better than I feared. His receptive language is very good. His expressive is where the concern is. I had hoped and expected that would be the result, but was willing to hear otherwise. Their intake evaluations put him at 13mo for communication, 18mo for something else and 22mo for one other thing (you can see where I was focused, yes?). He was 18.5mo old when they tested, so it confirmed he only is delayed in communication. He's ahead of the game in the other areas. So, now we have Mrs. Lynn, ECI's speech therapist, coming to our home. She uses a methodology called Hanen. It is family centered, which could not thrill me more. The first session was Friday (even though she called me two weeks ago and told me some things to start doing until she could get here... she's very, very overbooked). I like her a lot and appreciate that she believes Wee Babe's family is the most important thing in his life. I appreciate that she wants to see how he is already communicating and build on that. I appreciate that she thinks he's smart, stinkin' cute and on the edge of speaking (some of that may be paraphrased, you'll have to guess which part).

Even before Lynn came, I had started using some tips from Mrs. Brooke. After our initial meeting, Wee Babe started grunting much more. Since that time, he's also started signing more and using more gestures. He has a specific sound he makes for yes and no. He pulls us to what he wants, points, and uses eye gaze to get our attention (not to mention shrieks, which we are not encouraging). He finally started babbling over two months ago. He's really playing with his sounds now and babbles as he walks around the house. He uses the word mama, but not in correct context yet. You'll probably know when he does because you'll hear me squeal from wherever you are that moment.

We look forward to further growth in the area of his speech. We're confident he'll start talking. Meanwhile, it's like a fun family project! We'd love for you to pray for him and our project.

So, now you're updated. Feel better? Me too.

Self-Control

I've updated the Why: Self-Control post with my thoughts. It took me awhile to get the courage back up. I'd love to discuss this topic with you, though. I know it's controversial. Come on in, I won't bite. I promise. I'm just trying to bring up ideas that don't seem to make it to the pulpit in my neck of the woods.

My People

When I was a little girl, I told my mom I was going to be Indian when I grew up. I meant Cherokee or Iroquois or some other kind of Native American. I just loved them. When neighborhood kids played Cowboys and Indians, I was always an Indian. I felt badly about how the Indians were treated. My tender heart noticed, even before accurate history books were in the schools, that something was not quite right in the whole scenario. I thought they were beautiful and majestic. I dressed up like a squaw more than once for Halloween. My mother could not convince me that I couldn't grow up to be Indian.

Now, at almost forty, I have connected with Indians again. Not the Western Hemisphere type. The kind who live in India. If you've been here awhile (and by here, I mean my blog), you've noticed my appreciation for Bollywood and Indian food. I love both. "Lagaan" truly is in the top five movies I've ever watched. I could lick my plate when I eat Chicken Tikka Masala.

Here's the odd part: I really do feel a connection to people from India. I see a person of Indian heritage and I want to talk to them. It's pretty much compulsive (which makes whomever I'm with very uncomforable). Whether they are working in the gas station, the Indian grocery store, or the NICU, I strike up a conversation. And by strike up, I mean I try to get them to talk. Most of the time, they look at me a little strangely, then they are hesitant, and finally they visit a bit. I'm sure they wonder why I want to chat with them and then they probably wonder why I want to talk about Bollywood. They probably roll their eyes when I walk away, "Just another very white girl Slumdog wannabee India groupie." But, my fascination for India started more than three years ago when we studied the least evangelized people groups of the world. The 10/40 Window. It rocked my world. India was brought to my living room and my heart. The poverty. The numbers. The beauty.

So, again a part of me wants to grow up to be Indian.

They are my people.
Of course, by my people, I mean the people I love, pray for, and who have no idea I exist.

Guess Who?

A little quiz for you today:

Which family member wears shorts 345 days of the year?

Who has a wheezy laugh done when something is really, really funny and inappropriate at the same time?

Which family member uses Kansas as a point of reference for all things geographical with no explanation whatsoever?

Who says, "How about pickles?" to answer almost any question?

Who has a thing for Ziva on NCIS?

Who wishes they could mainline Diet Coke?

Who answers the question, "What's that smell?" with, "That's me" to any person who asks the question regardless of aroma or plausibility?

Who often sings impromptu and discordant bedtime prayers?

Guess who chose Lucky Charms for his birthday breakfast and brussels sprouts for his birthday dinner?

The man of my dreams, husband outstanding, father extraordinaire, and camp director exceptional, My Sweetie! Happy (Officially Over and Not Just on Top of the Hill) Birthday!

(P.S. I wish you could see the testimonies being shared on Facebook about the difference my husband has made in the lives of others, but then I'd have to tell you his real name. No can do. I want you to know that its not just me who knows this man is amazing. He has made an impact and changed the lives of those he's worked with. I'm incredibly blessed to be his wife. Even though he is now in his forties [he's 41 today] and I am still in my thirties.)

Twelve Year Olds

Oh, I just love twelve year olds. I love how they are a mix of child and teenager in the same day. They can enjoy playing and cuddling stuffed animals while they watch and appreciate the beauty of the words in "Pride and Prejudice".

I love how they can be knowledgable and unaware in the same hour. They can speak with confidence about the minute details involved in God's design of birds, but can't seem to grasp the benefits of good hygiene for every.day.

I love how they walk the line between independent and dependent in the same moment. They can desire the opportunity to make interesting meals on their own out of what is in the pantry, but ask for a trip to town to create the largest dessert possible for the evening.

All of these characteristics of twelve year olds amaze me. They make me smile and they make my day.

If I'm honest with you, the icing on the proverbial cake is how you can share special conversations about really wonderful things with them: great literature, doctrine, what God is doing in your life, relationships.

Twelve year olds are buds on the brink the blooming process. I'm so glad I get to enjoy six of them.


(What I have to say about Four Year Olds )

Wordless Wednesday: Mustaches

Why: Self Control

There are a few topics I'd like to discuss with you all via email or comments, like we did with the "what women want"/beauty issue. This is the second installment of my Why? series. The first one was a doozy and I'm pretty sure I lost a lot of readers over it. Sigh. If I didn't lose you and you just stopped posting comments, let me know. I still have people pleasing issues, can'tcha tell? Anyway, the first Why? was challenging and caused us to think outside the American 'box', so I figured I'd go ahead and continue with that pattern.

I have a question to ask you:

Do you believe that Christians are called to demonstrate self-control?
in all areas of their lives?
just some areas?
just sometimes?

Why or why not?

Update Below:

Here are some of my thoughts… that will lead to discussions on other topics. I promise. And I really do want to hear your thoughts. To discuss this.

I believe Christians are called to demonstrate self-control. There is no way we can do it perfectly, of course, but we are to submit in obedience to try. I believe this is for all areas of life. Most Christians would agree that self-control is a part of the gig.

But I’m bothered with by an attitude regarding a specific area where Christians seem to think they can ignore the idea of self-control: intimacy with one’s spouse. They want to do what they’d like, when they’d like to. The thing is, they don’t want the natural consequences of such behavior. Is that self-control? Or is that selfishness?

Now, I know that there are times when a woman could die if she conceived and/or carried a baby. I know that. Having a procedure done to prevent a death is different than having a procedure done to prevent a life. The heart attitudes are different. One is seeking to protect, the other is seeking to serve self.

God is always most concerned about our heart attitudes. This is true in all areas of our lives. My topic has two sides: the heart attitude about self-control and the heart-attitude regarding children. I know this. Right now, I’m just asking you to look at the self-control side of the topic. Another day for the other topic.

I know some people would disagree about abstaining during certain times because of the belief that a person should be willing to conceive anytime, but I do not think it’s wrong to abstain if you and your spouse’s hearts are in the right place. If your hearts are set on Him and not your own view of life, children and circumstances.

But… to have an attitude of, “We’re done. (insert # here) is just great. So, I’m getting ‘the clip-clip’ or having my tubes tied”, does that attitude display the desire to demonstrate self-control? I won’t even get into the topic that if you’ve prayed about and you believe God has confirmed your family size, then doesn’t that mean you won’t conceive any more any way? That’s for another post. (See, I told you it would lead to other discussions.)

Right now, I’m asking you to seriously consider self-control. Christians are called to live by it. That means all areas. Just as we would never say that if a Christian eats whatever they want, whenever they want (showing no self-control), they should not have to live with the consequences of that, or a Christian can say whatever they want, whenever they want, how can we say that a Christian can be intimate whenever they want and have no consequences of that? We say that unmarried Christians should not have that attitude, right? Do we think that it is only because they are having sex outside of marriage? Could another part of the problem be the lack of self-control? How can Christians make an area exempt just because they are married? Why is that ok?

As I was about to post my thoughts, two thoughts hit me:
1) lots of women don’t know when they are fertile. It would require them to learn their bodies and their cycle and pay attention. This lesson in learning your body, though, can reap benefits: you can know when you are fertile and when you are not, you can know something is wrong before your doctor can, you can know when ‘the change’ is starting, you can see God’s character of order displayed in the design of a woman’s body.

2) My testimony shows (if you’ve been reading my blog for awhile) that even through watching and knowing your body, pregnancies can still happen when you thought you were avoiding. In the case of someone who is avoiding due to serious medical concerns, a secondary method that does not destroy what God created may be an answer. Another answer may be to show further restraint in avoiding for longer time periods to stay within the non-fertile days. In the case of someone who was ‘sure’ they were done, could this be God’s way of showing you that you misunderstood Him?

Ok… please share your thoughts.

Livin' the Restaurant Dream

Remember when I told you the Chicken on the Bone story? Well, it seems our trip to Galveston now includes hilarious restaurant stories as part of the gig. Or my family is just blog fodder, depends on how you want to take it, I guess.

On our way out of town, we (and by "we" I mean me) wanted to eat out at a restaurant just once (so "we" didn't have to fix every meal on the vacation). There was lots of discussion, voting, cheering, whispering, and mumbling. I calmly told My Sweetie "we"'d be happy anywhere.

So we decided to eat at a crack house/gang hangout.

See, my kiddos have been begging to eat at the classic Southern restaurant known as Waffle House. The little black and yellow A-framed building known for breakfast foods and sweet tea. Now, in all fairness, they love waffles, they love pancakes, they love syrup, and their mother has been known to tout the supremacy of Waffle House pecan waffles (just so ya' know, "we" grew up in South Louisiana, went to school in Mississippi, worked summers in Texas, then finished school in Arkansas) experienced in her youth. Being that it costs like $50 to eat a meal out (that's an average, people), Waffle House, home of food Daddy and Mommy can easily fix, has never made it to the finals in the grand debate of restaurant choosing while out and about.

This time, it did. It being vacation and all. "We" were not so excited, but the kids were giddy and grinning while twisting on their counter stools before I even got my bearings. Then... I got my bearings.

Don't judge me, but as I looked around these are the thoughts that ran through my head in about seven milliseconds, "Um... this is going to be interesting. Most hilarious. Will they think we are using the children as mules? Do all these people think we look as out of place as we feel? Do we look as 'foreign' to them as they do to us? I hope no one needs to score, or settle one, while we're here."

Turns out, the Waffle House in Galveston is the hangout for people who live very different lives than we do. They like shorts that touch the ground and show more than half their underwear. They like big, flashy jewelry with dollar signs on it and bandannas. They like to smoke (even though the signs say No Smoking). They LOVE body art of all kinds. They don't like to shave. They don't like to use mild language. They don't like to speak recognizable English.

The kids didn't even notice they weren't in Kansas any more.

My Sweetie, Papalou and I got wide eyed, but decided to go ahead and experience the full Waffle House shebang. The kids were gonna have their experience and we were gonna have ours. Honestly, one of the things that has always stuck out in my mind about Waffle House is the local flavor and local characters I've always experienced. In the interest of full disclosure, we were on one side of the restaurant and everyone else was on the other. We didn't know why til later, but it did help me decide to stay.

The menu was like a dream to the children: waffles and pancakes galore. All kinds of (highly laden with high fructose corn syrup, of course) foods that they fantasized about. They chose and waited for the manna to arrive, sipping chocolate milk while they waited (My Sweetie is a complete sucker, you know this, right?). My Sweetie talked the darling first-day-on-the job waitress through our order. She started over twice, sighed fifteen times, went through four pieces of carbon copy order paper, and, I'm pretty sure, almost decided rehab had not been worth it.

The fun was kicked up a notch when we realized that the manager (I didn't know Abby moonlighted) was going to conduct a training session for the staff. Papalou's giggles (in between his questions about smoke and weapons) were barely stifled. He begged me to take photos of the staff. I couldn't do it. It was bad enough that some (almost) middle aged little white woman was standing up in the booth taking photos of her kids at the counter. I simply couldn't be so obvious as to take photos of the crew.

In all honesty, there was only once incident that was a little on the scary side. A guy left in an angry huff, yelling for his son (who I almost wrapped in my arms and smuggled home). Everyone pretty much ignored us, doing their thing, or smiled at the children. We smiled and tried to be a blessing. I've never felt so suburbian in my life.

And one positive incident happened. A woman who was waiting for the training kept smiling at us. Finally she quietly said to me, "Your family is just beautiful." I thanked her and told her I felt the same way.

All in all, we left hyped up on sugar and happy. No one was hurt (unless you count the high fructose corn syrup). We all had an experience that was worth telling about when we got home.

The kids told their Waffle House story.

And now, I've told mine.


(In all seriousness, if you'd like to read a beautiful blog about what it's like to minister to the Galveston Waffle House kinds of people [but in inner city Dallas instead], stop by Hood Mama and be blessed.)

Words in Red: John

Wowza! The Gospels in four weeks. Certainly not enough time, but it has given me, and hopefully you, a better look at Jesus. It's given me the desire to really delve in now and chew on what I've tasted. It accomplished it's purpose: to help me clear my head somewhat of doctrines I've internalized that may not go with what Jesus actually said.

Anyway, if you're new to my blog, click here to read about what The Words in Red Challenge originally was. After completing this challenge, I've decided to have a monthly post where we can share what Words in Red we've studied that month (the 15th of every month). The goal now being that we always take time to focus on Christ's words versus the words of man. So, looks like The Words in Red Challenge has two parts: Read all the words in red AND Start focusing on the words in red. So, look for a monthly post where we can share what words of Jesus we are focusing on.


So... here's what I noticed in John:

1) The book has a different feel as compared to the other Gospels.

2) Jesus often seems frustrated that it takes miracles for "you people" to believe, yet he has compassion on individuals who seek healing.

3) Jesus says that studying the Scriptures does not equal life. Our trust must be in Him.

4) Disciples left Jesus when teaching was really hard. "This is hard teaching. Who can accept it?" Those who had truly put their faith in Him, though, stayed despite difficult teaching. As Peter said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God." This encourages me to stay with Jesus even when His teaching is not understood to me or when it's really hard. When you fully accept Jesus, you have to fully accept His words.

5) I just loved how Jesus said, "Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him." That is so beautiful to me. I have the streams of peace flowing in my heart, but I want them to flow out from me to others, so they are drawn to Christ.

6) Jesus talked about his death almost from the beginning.

7) "The Jews" were really ticked off by Jesus' claims.

8) The Pharisees called themselves disciples of Moses. They missed the heart of the matter. They should have called themselves disciples of the LORD. I don't want to fall into the trap they fell into. I don't want to be a disciple of any mere mortal. I want to be a disciple of Christ only. I see this often in Christian circles. Too often, people quote theologians or teachers or gifted speakers or denomination leaders more than they can quote Christ.

9) The passing of time in the book of John seems to center around the Passover.

10) The Twelve didn't understand everything. Jesus knew this an encouraged them, amidst their confusion, that they would be given The Helper to bring them into understanding.

11) Jesus said often, "If you love me, you will obey what I command" or something similar. He was not interested in someone just loving him. He wanted loving obedience.



So, please share. What stood out to you in the book of John?

I'm Going to be Short with You

This post is a public service announcement. Well, actually, I guess it's a GfG readers service announcement, all twelve of you. No matter. Help is help, no matter how few people it helps.

Today I'm here to enlighten you. To help you see a different side of things. The shorter side of things.

I want to share with you insight on what my life is like being an adult under five feet tall.

Why? because I can see how little people understand about this way of life (yes, the pun was intentional).

So... in the interest in helping short people everywhere (and I don't mean "little people" because they have even more challenges), here ya' go:

I have to change positions in how I sit often because my feet don't really touch the ground and having them dangling makes the circulation in them weird. This means I will need to put them up on the chair after awhile or cross my legs or prop them on something. Seriously, I'm not making this up. Try sitting in a chair with only your toes touching the ground. Un.comfortable.

I forget that the top of my refrigerator can be seen by people. While I don't like clutter on top of my fridge, it totally escapes me that dust accumulates there. Out of sight, out of mind. This goes for shelves, cabinets, dressers.... you name it. Please don't judge me for forgetting you can see that gunk up there.

I can't reach most things without some kind of assistance: a chair, a stepladder, your toes, the inside of a cabinet I open, the counter top I stand on, whatever. If I ask you to reach something for me, don't think I'm being lazy. An almost forty year old woman climbing on the counter isn't as such a good idea as it was when she was twenty.

I fantasize about a house that has cabinets, counter tops, bathroom vanities, mirrors, and closets that 'fit' me. When I fix a meal, I don't get counter 'mess' on my waist, it's on my chest. When I put things in the cabinets, the items I use every day have to go on the bottom shelf only. I can't reach anything above that without climbing. Lots of bathroom mirrors only let me see from my chest up. Currently I have no idea what my outfits look like below there unless I walk outside and look at my reflection in the kitchen windows.

I wish every single clothes item came in a petite size. It's incredibly frustrating shopping for clothes. Everything in 'my size' that is meant to hit a woman in a certain area, hits me inches lower. That means I either wear capris as cropped pants, cropped pants as regular pants, shirts with camis underneath, or I spend big money altering or shopping in stores that have petites (most of those are pricey). It's annoying. Factor in the truth that our clothes industry currently believes pencils are the shape to copy and you have a nightmare just shopping for a blouse.

I'm totally inept at judging height. Don't ask me how tall someone is. You're all tall.

So, there you have it. I haven't done a ministry opportunity in awhile. While I may not have given you too many ideas on how to help, I hope I've given you the opportunity to see your fellow man/woman, specifically short ones, with better understanding.

Go forth and appreciate short people. Or, at least, with a smile on your face, hand them the items off the shelves when asked.

The Heart

Today I offer a book recommendation to you. A book that can totally change your heart and your world. I have personally seen this book change lives and save a marriage. The crazy thing is this, the book was written for parents with angry children.

BUT... the reason this book is so amazing is that it takes scripture and helps a person apply it correctly. It gets to the heart. Our hearts. Our hearts when we are angry. Though Mr. Priolo wrote it to help parents with children who have anger problems, the lessons in this book offer help for many different issues. He also warns in chapter two that if you are doing any of the twenty-fivevthings he lists that provoke anger, trying to change your children first is just wrong.

Have behavior problems (disobedience, manipulation, 'ignoring', rebellion) in your children? This book will help.

Have anger problems with yourself (do you give the cold shoulder, do you yell, are you sarcastic, do you talk down to your spouse, do you pout)? This book will help.

Does your spouse have anger problems (see above)? This book will help.

In using this book with a couple to help save their marriage, My Sweetie and I realized some of the problems with our children's behavior: us. We realized our behavior was a stumbling block for our children. We realized we were being manipulated a lot by our children. We realized that the heart of helping our children see their heart is that we have to actually put a lot of time and effort into training them. We have gotten a little weary in some areas and dropped the ball. Mr. Priolo holds no punches though, "If you are not able to fulfill all of your biblical responsibilities (not the least of which is child training for the Christian parent) within this framework {the same 168 hours a week God's given everyone}, then either one of two things is askew: either you are wasting time or you have assumed some responsibility that God did not want you to assume."

Ouch.

He does that a lot in this book. Mr. Priolo has a real desire to share God's Word and help people see that it really does change lives. He wants to help us put our beliefs into practice. He knows that sugar coating things is deceptive and that we have to really see ourselves for who we are if we want to change. He says it like it is.

Anyway, don't be fooled by the title of this book. It could very well be one of these:

How to Raise Children Whose Hearts are for God

How to be Angry and Not Sin

How to Drop the Baggage Your Parents Gave You in Anger Control

How to Communicate Biblically

The Heart of Anger and Communication

The Idols of the Heart

This book is truly a keeper (and the workbook you can buy to go with it really helps you apply what you are learning- it's not just fluff).

But only buy it if you want to really get to the heart of the matter.

Because... truly... He will. Only if you are obedient to put the information into practice, though. Just reading it will convict you. If you leave it on your shelf for a couple of years, it will stare at you, pricking your heart occasionally. Then it, or the Holy Spirit, actually, will finally ask you to put the work into the change. And it is work. But the fruit of the labor looks delightful to my heart.

Four Year Olds

Oh, I just love four year olds. I love how self-reliant, yet dependent they are daily. They can get dressed and go to the bathroom alone (though their outfit may be questionable and their bottoms just as much), but they want to be held or reassured when they are tired or scared.

I love how joyfully inquisitive, yet timid they can be in the same hour. They can want to know the answers to a gazillion questions about why the worms like to live in the dirt, but when thunder booms they could care less that it's just a sound and they bury themselves in your chest.

I love how knowledgeable, yet naive they are all at the same time. They can inform you with a stictly straight face that they know all there is to know about spelling and computers, but are speechless and awestruck by an ice machine at EZs that is simply "amazing".

All of these characteristics of four year olds charm me. They make me smile and they make my day.

If I'm honest with you, though, the icing on the proverbial cake is how they want to cuddle, snuggle, and giggle with you when you lay in bed with them talking about they day, telling stories or settling for sleep.

Four year olds are beautiful paradoxes. I'm so glad I get to enjoy six of them.

Wordless Wednesday

Wee Babe & Cutie Pie's Gum

Only he knows why gum was so funny (again and again and again) and he's not explaining it to us currently.

No matter, it still makes me smile. Which is why I share it with you.

People ask if having 'many' kids makes the older kids feel left out. Or if they resent when another baby comes along. We've never experienced it. Actually, all the 'large' (remember, I don't think of my family as large, though) families I know say that they've never had that happen. The kids are always excited about another baby. Even the toddlers. They all love on the baby as soon as the baby arrives. I love how the kids all connect with each other and enjoy making each other happy. These two were hilarious on the trip to the beach.

(Seriously? Even his giggle is stinkin' cute.)

My Sweetie, My Hero

I have put off posting this for over four months. Because... well... because...

My Sweetie was recognized for his heroism by the local chapter of the American Red Cross.
For doing what he was trained to do instead of what he could have done.
For the peace he demonstrated in the midst of fear.
For the wisdom of behavior in the midst of panic.

For this, most awful, night.

I'm so proud of him. Really. But... well... it takes a lot for me to talk about that night. I wasn't ready to talk about it, though, when he was honored, it had been almost a year since the nightmarish event.

He was given a medal, a framed certificate and a citation description at a meeting of the American Red Cross. All stating that he received commendation and the "Lifesaving Award of Merit" for "Lifesaving Action". There was an article in the paper. There were photos. I wasn't there. The second best part of all of it was that My Sweetie didn't even ask me to be there. He knew how fragile I still was. He knew I couldn't really talk about that night. So did the Red Cross lady (full title, I'm sure) because when she called, it didn't go all that great. Instead, I sent her my blog post.

He really is amazing. Even setting aside the fact that he's been a First Responder and CPR/First Aid Trainer for years, He was a hero that night.

So, now, more than four months later, you know that someone other than myself recognizes My Sweetie as the hero he truly is.

Words in Red- Luke

Today, those of us taking the Words in Red Challenge finish the book of Luke. If you are new to this, please join in! You can just pick up where we are and then cycle through. We start the book of John tomorrow (and it's a bit longer, so plan accordingly). I'm just loving taking this time to focus on Jesus' words and no others. If you want to get the story behind the Words in Red Challenge, click here.

I'll admit, this week took more effort to stay on track reading the book of Luke. I'm not sure why. Just how it was.

Ok, here's what I have to say about Luke right now (I'm really tired, so I may update this tomorrow):

1) For some reason I finally correctly read the words of the angel appearing to the shepherds when Jesus was born. I've always thought he said, "Glory to God. Peace on Earth. Goodwill to men." I might not have thought that was exactly it, but basically. Maybe I've been influenced by Christmas marketing tactics. I don't know, but... all that to say, that's not what the angel said. He didn't promise peace on Earth. He doesn't come bearing some kind of hippy peace message. Nope. He says, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." Oh, he promises peace, that's for sure. But not for the whole earth. And not in regards to nations or wars. He's proclaiming that God has come! God, who will bring peace to the hearts of those who love Him. Isn't it odd that I never really got that, considering how many times I've heard that verse read? I probably just grazed right over it or didn't really listen. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I see it now. It makes the message make sense. Honestly, I never understood why the angel declared peace on Earth when that didn't really happen. Guess I never understood because that is, in fact, not what he said. Very cool.

2) I noticed how often Mary treasured things in her heart.

3) I noticed that Jesus got angry at towns that did not repent though he performed miracles in them. Jesus takes repentance pretty seriously.

4) I hadn't remembered that James, John and Simon were fishing partners when they fished for fish. Interesting that they all responded to go fish for men and were three of the closest to Christ.

5) I noticed that Jesus had no respect for those seeking riches on Earth. He talked several times about how hard it was for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. He talked several times about getting rid of things to follow him and give to the poor. He talked about riches, for sure, but always, always in a spiritual context, not in a financial one.

6) Jesus commands that we repent and clear our conscious before we try to help our brother with a sin problem. He does not forbid it, just tells us to be sure we are not being hypocritical when we do.

7) He really, really likes parables.

8) I don't always understand parables. Seems I'm in good company.

9) Why didn't I understand that Jesus sent out the disciples while He was still on Earth? Why has it taken me until I started reading the Gospels for me to see this? I find it wonderful and a bit reassuring, not to mention loving, that Jesus sent the seventy-two (not just the twelve... seventy-two! hello! that's a big class, thankyouverymuch... no whining for me anymore) out to do mission work while He was still there. What a great teacher! "Go do it. Come back and we'll talk." (not literal quotes on that one, ok?) Suh-weet, training session.

10) Jesus likes to say, "Woe to you!" and "You hypocrites!" He doesn't sugar coat things when confronting those who are twisting His Father's words. Seems Jesus takes it pretty seriously.

11) He had so very much to say about the kingdom of God. It's kinda like He was trying to get our focus on it. Ya' think?


So, what stood out for you in your reading of Luke? Please share!

Just Me and Faith

Faith has been begging to turn in her coupon for a Just Me and You Day. Problem was that we needed a day for Daddy to be here and not working. Finally, we found a day awhile back.

So, she made our itinerary:

go eat Indian food

go to a pet store

go to the place "that is a big store with lots of stores, you know you walk and there's a store and then there's another one and another one" and buy something

go to the theatre

go to dinner

So, that is (almost completely) what we did.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking, "You totally coerced the lunch at the Indian food place." But I didn't! She tasted some chicken tiki masala the last time I had some and she (and Princess and HB and Cutie Pie!) loved it. She thinks she is a very big girl loving Indian food. I couldn't agree more. Obviously, only very mature and cool people like Indian food.

She was so stinkin' cute at the restaurant. She was one big grin as she eyed the dishes and put food on her plate. It was adorable. The cook even took us in the back to show her how nan is made (bread that is sorta like tortillas) and gave her one "made just for her". We learned how to say thank you in Hindi and so she said, "shukriyaa" . Oh man, the cuteness factor shot out the roof! The cook was smitten instantly. So were the host and the cashier at the Indian grocery store. I mean, seriously, picture this sweet little white girl rolling her Rs perfectly saying "shukriyaa" with a big smile. Anyway, we over ate and loved every bite.

Next stop, the pet store. She was a bit disappointed because, as it turns out, pet stores in real life are really nothing like the pet stores in the movies. No puppy in the window. No kittens to hold and snuggle. Just fish and reptiles. And lots and lots of pet junk. I won't even tell you the ridiculous story about how we met and visited with a woman and her granddaughter at the pet store and how they were equally disappointed so they talked us into following them to their 'favorite pet store' and how that it took so long and the woman drove on so many back roads that I was convinced Me and You Day was turning into How We Were Shanghaied Day. Or that their 'favorite pet store' was pretty much just like the loser one we left. Nope won't tell you about that little fiasco.

Moving along on the agenda: "the big store that has lots of stores". I wasn't sure that would go over all that well because Mama can't let her buy something in every shop. I wasn't convinced she would enjoy window shopping (cause I don't). We walked a little bit and then saw the store that saved Faith's mall experience: Pottery Barn Kids. Who would have known? A store that completely shuts down my ability to not covet was the best store in the mall that day. Well, they had three, yes three, kids' kitchens in there complete with play food. We 'played kitchen' for about an hour. I expected the sales ladies to give us looks and/or kick us out, but they didn't (well, they may have gives us looks, but they were covert about it). It was adorable. Definitely not the typical way to spend time in a mall.

Finally, she was ready to 'shop'. Claire's was the store of choice (imagine that). She was like a little girl in a... well, in a Claire's. Such a girly place. She was in heaven. I was quite disappointed in my daughter raising abilities when she made her purchase choice. Obviously, I'm raising the anti-thesis of Pottery Barn Kids kids. She was ecstatic to buy a set each of magenta, purple and teal fake hair braids on clips, no matter how I tried to talk her into nicer items. Yeah, classy, huh?

The funniest part is how serious she was about them. "Mom, just wait til all the other kids see these. They're gonna say, 'Wow! What did you do to your hair!' They're gonna totally think they're real, Mom!"

As soon as the money had burned a hole in her pocket and placed the ultimate in gaudy on her head, she wanted to go back to Pottery Barn Kids. We cooked and ate some more and then the saleswoman gained some serious points with Faith (though no bucks with me): she set up the kids' sized tabletop air hockey. We got at it. Faith won (I may or may not have thrown the game. I'll never tell.).

After the mall, we got some ice cream then went to see "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs". I wasn't impressed, but she was. She was giddy, actually. A theatre with just me and her.

Finally, we headed home. She tried her best to talk me into dinner out, but I stood my ground.

It was totally different than my day with Princess, but it was very Faith-esque. I absolutely loved spending a day with her. Even more, I loved that she wanted to do it.

Since the You and Me Day cards expire Christmas Day, I'm sure there will be a rush for the three kids who haven't used their cards to get something on the calendar. I look forward to them (even if they choose to have their day with their daddy). They will be just as fun.

The entire drive home centered around Faith putting her fake psychedelic hair braids in just the right spot and planning her entrance. She plotted. She giggled. I smiled. I thanked God for my sweet Faith.

The entire drive home.

(Forgive the lousy photos. My really wonderful camera died. While I try to figure out what I can do about it [already talked to Canon], a friend has loaned me a point and shoot. Which I [in]conveniently left at home for the special day. These lovely snapshots were taken with my phone.)

Perfectly Topped Off

Based on how Cutie Pie and I both felt as soon as she opened the gift bag and have continued to feel since that day, I think this is the best birthday present I have ever bought for one of my children.

It suits her so well.

It makes me smile every time she wears it.

It was reasonable priced.

It couldn't be any cuter. All that combined makes for a perfect birthday gift for such a Cutie Pie.

I just love that she enjoys wearing it, no matter what the event: helping Papalou fix ice cream cones, going fishing, playing at the park, hanging out at the house.Sometimes, it's the little things that cheer me in my day. Ya' know? Like a four year old skipping by in the cutest hat ever.

You can order one of these darling hats from this sweet Etsy shop, Briar Claire.

The Cutie Pie was a gift from God just for us. Sorry, you can't order her.