You do You

I have a confession to make.  I am addicted to podcasts.  Guys, it's serious.  I don't know why I waited so long, but I fell for them and fell hard. I don't watch tv hardly at all anymore and my time on social media sites have decreased considerably. I listen to a variety of podcasts, mostly true crime (don't judge), and a few comedy.  One I really enjoy and put on when I need a laugh is called the Dollop.  It's an American History podcast that takes a story or a person from history, both distant and not too distant, and breaks it down into a laughter filled hour or so.  I wouldn't recommend this podcast if you are thin skinned or if you can't handle listening to views that may not necessarily match up to your own or are sensitive to bad language.  I love it though and I've learned quite a bit.

One great thing about listening to podcasts is I can put in my earbuds, turn on an episode, and get things done.  I've found I'm much more productive.  Today was a day that I needed to both laugh and get stuff done so I turned on The Dollop and got busy.  Interestingly enough, one of the topics spoke to something that has been on my heart lately.

So the topic was a silly one, titled Straw Hat Riot (episode 129 for you Rubes), and basically it spoke about a time that people were so concerned that men not wear their straw hats passed a specified date, that they would literally take and destroy said hat if one was caught wearing it.  It became a real issue, people were arrested and injured because of a hat. One of the hosts of the podcasts (and I paraphrase because language) said, "Why do people care what other people are doing so much?"

That's what's been laying on my heart lately.  Why do people care what other people do so much?  Maybe I've mellowed with age, or maybe I've encountered enough people who are different than what I grew up with, or maybe it's life experiences, who knows, but honestly folks, I don't care very much what other people choose to do if it doesn't harm anyone.  For instance, how many posts have you seen regarding fashion and you just can't wrap your mind around why someone would choose to wear it?  Or, perhaps you can't stand a certain celebrity, and cant fathom why someone would look up to them.  How many times have you glanced at the comments of that cute puppy video you shared and saw commentors who somehow found something negative to say about it.  Even those recipe videos some of us love (guilty) will have comments along the lines of "Why would anyone eat this" or "wow, this cake is really ugly, who would want it?"

Whatever it is, so many people feel the need to take a stance on the silliest of issues, becoming keyboard warriors against anyone who would dare be different.  I'm here to tell you, I DON'T CARE!  I don't care what you wear, how much makeup you wear, how your hair is done, what shows, music, books you like.  I don't care if you prefer a certain type of vehicle or type of pet, if you can't stand a certain type of food or hobby.  I don't care if you are a Baptist or a Methodist, if you prefer one type of worship music over another.  I don't feel the need to turn everyone I meet into Mikel clones, who believe in the exact same way I do.  Let me enjoy the things I enjoy, and I'll be glad to return the favor.

Try as you might, you will not find anyone who agrees one hundred percent with you in any given topic, be it politics, religion, current events, how you raise your family, or how you live your life.  That's OK.  I've learned so much from people who think differently than me.  There is so much negativity in this world, why add to it?  Why bring misery to yourself and others over insignificant things?  Why, when there are so many real issues going on today that are much more deserving of our concern and attention?

Friends, there is so much darkness in our lives, in our world, why can't we all choose to stop finding issue with our neighbors, stop adding to the negativity, and instead bring much needed light and love into our lives and into the lives of those we encounter, even if it's just with strangers on the internet.  It's okay to have differing ideas about things.  It's okay to not like everything we see.  However, ask yourself, would this negative thought benefit anyone else?  Is it worth my time to comment about something I don't like or think is silly?  Are my negative comments online or in person the witness I want to give?

May your days be filled with goodness and may we all be the light in a world filled with darkness.

Growing pains

I'd like to tell you a story.  Before I begin, however, let me give you some background information.

We have been living in our new town, with Zach serving at his new church since the end of June.  In that time, there has been lots of changes and upheaval for our family.  Finding a routine for the kids and I to get in to has been a challenge, and continues to be more than four months into this new life.  Sundays have proven to be the most challenging part of finding our new normal.  There are three services that Zach must be at.  He leaves our house often before 7:00 on Sunday mornings.  Two services are held at one church, one right after the other, with the third being held at another church, in another town, more than twenty minutes away.  What is a preacher's wife and family to do?  Most weeks I try to make it to two of those services, one in each church, though there are times that I just don't have it in me to sit through two services with my three kids so I choose one.  Then of course, there's always the one service, the earliest one, that I have only been to a few times.

Now, on to the story and the purpose of this post:

Not too long ago the kids and I got up to go to the earliest service, the one we have only been to on occasion.  I sat in the front, with the three kids.  I tried to smile at those around me and most people wouldn't even meet my eye.  That's okay, it's early, most of these people have no clue who I am.  The kids are tired, cranky, hot and uncomfortable.  The youngest one is crawling all over me, fidgeting to stay awake, but really wanting to go to sleep.  We make it to the end of the service and I work on gathering the water bottles, church bag, my purse, and loose bulletins.  An older woman walks up to us, she's the first one to talk to us since we walked in the front door.  She goes right up to Noah, who has been upset because of something his sister did or said, and asks him why he didn't stand during the last song, saying, "Is there something wrong with you?"

Noah immediately backs away from her, this stranger whom he has never met.  My six year old has no idea how to respond to this question and chooses to say nothing instead.  The lady glances at me for the first time, asks if its our first visit here and then offers the kids some candy.  I left flabbergasted.  I managed to make it to my car before I broke down into tears.  I went home depressed and feeling like I am the worst mom alive, the worst preacher's wife, a failure.

Now, I understand that I am a sensitive person.  I also admit to reading into things, intentions that weren't ever there.  However, I also know that had I been a visitor I would never go back to that church because of how my kids and I were treated, because of how a few people made me feel, whatever their true intentions were.

I know a lot of my readers are church goers, many of you are leaders in your congregation.  I am begging you to think about how you treat young families, visitors, and anyone else.  Think about how you go about greeting people, how you handle those people who may be "doing it wrong."

I have written before about having kids in church (you can see those here and here).  It's hard, whether you have one or five.  We are trying to teach our kid how to behave in an environment that is often unforgiving of mistakes or missteps.  Our kids are expected to sit quietly, to understand the traditions and routines, to be still, and to be happy.  How are they expected to learn anything without messing up on occasion?

Let me tell you another story:

Another Sunday, and another service finds us once again sitting on the front row, belongings strewn about, but this time we are in another sanctuary, surrounded by different people.  My kids are happy and this creates a new set of challenges.  They want to play, they want to talk, they want to run up and give their daddy a hug.  Ryann, the three year old wants to dance to the music.  Her dress has a twirly skirt and that's amazing and doesn't everyone want to see?  I am exhausted, and frustrated, and once again feeling like I'm failing.  The end of the service comes and I try to gather my wits and belongings without crumbling.  An older woman comes up to me.  Great. Here we go again.  She puts a hand on my arm and says, "I want you to know that we love seeing your kids up here.  I know it can be frustrating for you, but we love it. You are doing a good job of handling them by yourself."

Friends, this is love.  This is what will bring people back, bring people into a relationship.  There was no judgement, just encouragement.

Being a parent is hard.  Being a parent who tries to bring their family to church is hard.  Young families today have so much vying for their attention and time.  Often both parents work full time jobs and Sundays may be the only time for families to spend together.  For them to come spend an hour or more at church is an achievement in itself.  It means they are there because they want to be, whatever reason that may be.  They will often want to keep their family together during that hour of worship, for good reason.  However, there's a good chance that their younger ones are still learning about what church is, and how to behave.  Their parents are likely still learning about how to best handle their little ones while figuring everything out.  Be kind. Be encouraging.  Be helpful.  Love.  Think about your words before you offer any kind of observation or "helpful" advice.  Think about how your words, whatever their intention, may sound to an overwhelmed mother or father.  Think about how your criticisms may sound to that visitor, who doesn't understand or know about "how we do things."  If we expect to have a church in thirty years, we need to practice loving and encouraging more, and criticizing less.

Thoughts? I'd love to hear from you.

'Cause He's My Best Friend...

Today, Zach and I celebrate eleven years of marriage.  We are celebrating separately today because Zach is out of town and wont be back until tomorrow.  This week I have been reflecting over the last eleven years of married life and the two years that lead up to our wedding and would like to share some of those reflections with you, if you'll indulge me.

Anniversary picture from last year.

Zach and I met at church.  A friend from my McMurry days was working as Youth Director at my home church when I moved back to Plainview.  It was a difficult time in my life and I was feeling very lost and alone.  Tyson, my McM pal, invited me to come help out with the youth group.  I debated whether or not to go because, well, I was scared.  Teenagers? Scary! But, I was lonely enough that I went.  I met Zach that first night.  He was so young and weird, he came and sat beside me right away and made me feel welcome.  He's gifted like that.

Just a couple of kids, working with some kids.

The next year had us working together and forming a friendship.  I never really thought about dating him, he was so young, we would never be more than just friends.  However, as the months went on, and as we continued in ministry together, I saw more in him.  We didn't always agree but he always listened to me.  He was very immature but I saw growth.  We didn't have a lot in common, but we always had fun together.  Finally, I decided to let the age difference not be an issue and we started dating on July 4, 2004.

Our dating life had some up and downs but within a few months I knew he was it for me.  I was done looking for Mr. Right,I had found him in Zach.  We talked about marriage for months before he finally popped the question a year into dating on July 4, 2005.  He took me for a picnic lunch at the place we first met, the church, and asked me to marry him.  It was perfect.

Our first "couple" pic

Not getting any younger we decided to not have a long engagement and set our wedding date for only two months away, before Zach got far into his semester of school.  It was a stressful two months but our wedding was wonderful.  So many friends and family came to help us celebrate.  We had a very simple ceremony, again, in the place we met, followed by a cookout at my aunt and uncles house.  It was just what I wanted and I am so grateful for the hard work our families put in to help us carry it off.

We didn't have a ton of money so we honeymooned in Santa Fe for a couple of days before we had to return to work and school.  So begins married life.

Hanging out in Santa Fe with my 20 year old husband.

That first year of marriage was so hard.  We were trying to figure out what being married really meant.  We had to learn to put each other first, above everyone else.  We had to learn to communicate.  I'll be honest, there were moments that first year that I thought about calling it quits.  There were moments that we almost let our differences break us.

First Christmas as a married couple.

A couple of weeks after our fist anniversary I became pregnant with Zoe.  With that pregnancy came even more obstacles we had to cross.  Money, house, jobs, church, family, so many things that could have gotten in the way had we let it.  I prayed constantly that the Lord would prepare Zach to be a dad, worried that at just 22 he wouldn't want the job.  We were still working at figuring things out as a couple, would we be able to figure things out as parents?

He's the best dad.

It wasn't easy, but we figured it out.  We went the next year after Zoe was born, fumbling along best we could.  Things were hard and again, I had doubts.  The turning point happened one Sunday in May a year after Zoe was born.  I found myself in our bedroom, alone and fuming about something Zach had done.  I was angry and hurt and couldn't believe he was just going to let me be angry and hurt alone.  Do you know what I did?  I sucked it up, got out of bed, and calmly as I could, I confronted Zach.  I told him that I was hurt and why I was mad.  We talked about it.  I discovered that he wasn't aware of the transgression that had so upset me.  He apologized and we talked for hours after that.  I learned in that moment, that if I wanted to have a marriage with him that I had to humble myself and communicate my feelings to him instead of allowing them to build up and fester inside of me.  That was a game changer.

Since then many things have happened in our lives, many bad, so much more great.  We have grown together, built a family together, and continued in ministry together.  Zach, this kid I thought was too young for me, has taught me so much.  He's taught me to love baseball, to love generously (although he's still way better at it), to trust always, and to forgive earnestly.  We still have hard times, moments that we struggle through, moments of doubt, but because we are able to continue to enter into conversation together, to share those feelings, we have been able to persevere.

Eleven years.  It's not a huge amount, but, I know, without a doubt it will continue.  We have a lifetime ahead of us, and I am certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that we will share it together.  You see, even though I know it wont always be easy, it is so worth it to put in the hard work to ensure we have as healthy a relationship as possible.  I know that our kids will grow up believing in true love, because we have shown them what that looks like.

It looks like this.

Taking control

As any mother of more than one child can attest to, your kids arguing with one another can be a major issue in your household.  If my oldest two children are in the same place for more than a minute, they are arguing.  Mostly it stems from my seven year old believing she knows everything and my four year old saying things just to make her mad.  I am constantly reminding Zoe that she cant control what others do, she can only control her reaction.  In frustration I'll lament,  "Why can't you just let it go?"  Obviously the sky isn't green, he's just saying that because he knows it makes her mad.  That's what little brothers do.  She has to be right, she has to set him straight, and the arguing continues until there are tears or I step in to separate them.

It's easy to get my mom voice and lecture my children about letting go of the little things and taking control of our own reactions.  It comes naturally to me to sit my daughter down and remind her that being right isn't the most important thing we can do.  When it comes to living what I teach, that's another matter.

I've been slapped by the realization that I have let certain people steal my joy.  I has hit with daunting clarity recently at a Bible Study that I have held on to criticisms I have received in the past, in some cases, the distant past, and it has colored the perception I have of myself and my ability to do certain things.  I have allowed those negative people and thoughts to define a part of who I am, or, at the very least, of who I think I am.  I have let my desire to be right in some instances damage my relationships with certain people.  I have done that, no body else. 

With new insight comes a new challenge.   How do I let go of years of hanging on to my bitterness?  How do I truly forgive, down in my heart, where it counts?  How do I refuse to let other people define me?

Friends, I honestly don't know, but I'm working on it.  Something that has helped me in ways I would never of guessed is to intentionally focus on the good in others.  I'm talking, everyone I come into contact with.  I try to think of something I admire about that person with every encounter.  By seeing something positive in other people, I'm more easily able to see the positive things within myself.  By focusing on a person's good quality, I'm less likely to get annoyed by the little things.  By trying to enjoy the presence of those I come into contact with, I find it easier to put myself into their shoes, to understand why they may say or do hurtful things.  By doing each of these things, I find it easier, in most cases, to voice my opinion without major conflict arising over differences.

My family, with Zach's guidance, has made a mantra of "Love God, Love others, reach out."  I remind my children that when we show love to others, especially those who annoy us or hurt us, we are truly showing love to God.  It's so hard sometimes, and sometimes it's even harder to love ourselves.  

I can not control others.  I can only control myself.  It's a daily challenge, one that I fail at constantly, but I pray daily to see change.  I pray that by through my actions, I am teaching my children what it means to LOVE, and that I someday, I can honestly say that I practice what I preach.

 I would love to hear from you on this topic.  

Life as we know it.

It's been a while since I've made the time to sit down and blog, but for good reason.  We have been in our new home for about 3 weeks now.  We are, for the most part, settled in and adjusting to this new place.  We get asked often how we are enjoying being here, and I can honestly say we love it!  The new church we are at has gone above and beyond to make us feel welcomed.  The entire first week we were here we had meals provided for us.  I didn't even go grocery shopping until the fourth day we were here!  Yes, life is pretty good here and I am very much looking forward to see what the future holds for us.

On a related note, let me tell you all what happened to me yesterday.  From the beginning:

As any mother can attest, Sunday's can be hard.  I can't, for the life of me, get all five of us in a routine that makes getting ready for church easier.  I try very hard to go the entire morning not raising my voice, but I just don't always make it.  Why do the kids move so slow?  Where do all the shoes disappear to on Sunday mornings?  Why does that cowlick pick Sundays to be the most stubborn and pronounced?  The struggle is real, folks.  Regardless, we did make it out the door and to church on time for the kids to go to Sunday school, with little to no permanent scarring.

For worship we enjoy having our kids sit with us.  We feel it helps to teach the kids that it's okay and necessary to learn to sit still and quietly.  Zach took part in the service so I sat with our kids alone.  At one point, Ryann hit her head on the pew and began crying.  I told the other two to stay there and I got up to take her out.  I am almost to the back of the sanctuary when I realize Noah has tagged along.  Somehow, within the 2.5 seconds I left them, his sister had found a way to seriously offend him.  Sigh.  When the closing song begins, Noah, Ryann and I make our way back to our seat.  Jeez, who was sitting here?  Animal crackers strewn about, colors on the floor, two bulletins seemed to have multiplied to countless pieces of paper.  Sigh, again.

With Zoe's help we get everything picked up and gathered.  I grab my purse, Ryanns diaper bag, the church bag, and the baby, and head out to the new Prayer Garden where we were having a blessing and dedication along with taking communion.  Again, Zach is participating in this service so I stand there, in the sun, with my arms full of the above mentioned items.  The baby is hot, tired, hungry (despite the number of animal crackers she partially consumed during church) and is squirming to be put down.  Noah keeps wanting to stand with his Daddy in the front.  Zoe is bored and restless.  Double sigh.

Then, do you know what happened?  This sweet older woman, whom I'm sure I've met but can't remember her face in the sea of faces I've encountered these past few weeks, witnessed my plight from across the garden and made her way to me.  "Can I please help you by holding your purse and bags for you?"  I'm not sure what she thought of my expression, but I felt overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness. "YES!" I practically shouted it.  "Thank you soooo much."  She held my belongings, literally taking a burden from my shoulders, allowing me to enjoy the moment a bit more, to take communion without struggling.

One small, little gesture.  It meant so much to me.

Being part of the church for most of my life, I have heard it countless times: "How can we get young families in the church? How do we reach the millennials?"

Here's my answer:  I couldn't care less about the type of music you play, the clothing your congregants wear, the type of seating, if the pastor robes up or not.  I have enough struggles and worries to let those types of things bother me.  I want to be a part of a place that shows me and others the Love of Christ.  If you want to get young, busy, stressed out families in your church, then love them.  Easy as that.  If you see a young mother struggling with her kids, offer to help. Say something encouraging.  Love her.  If you know a single mother who worries about her car making it to work, to school, to the babysitters, then fix it for her.  Take away that burden.  Replace it with love.

I've been accused in the past of looking unapproachable.  It angers and saddens me when I've heard these comments, always from people I've gone to church with, because I want to ask them, when you see me looking like that, is Zach there? Do I have kids hanging off me?  Have you given any thought to what may have happened in our home, just to get us there?  I'm counting it a victory to just be here sometimes, I'm sorry if I don't appear happy and carefree all the time.

So, moral of the story and of this rant, be aware of what other people may be going through.  Offer to help, even if it's a small, little gesture.  Even a word of encouragement or understanding can go a long way to show other's what LOVE means.

We don't judge

Several years ago I had the pleasure of getting to mentor a great group of teenage girls.  They were so much fun, they kept me young, and always had a style tip to share with me. ("Mikel, why are you wearing those 'mom' shoes?")  They taught me so much and I can only hope that I taught them a little something too.  A running gag that developed with this group was the saying, "We don't judge!"  This particular adage became a joke used between us. "You only like movies starring Mandy Moore? It's okay, we don't judge!" "You ate a pan of brownies for breakfast? It's okay, we don't judge!" Ah, I miss those girls...

This week has been another trial for me as once again I hurt my back and have been trying to take it easy.  Yesterday I tried to be productive and was adamant about leaving the house only to reinjure my back to the point I wasn't able to walk without incurring severe pain.  These days where I am frustrated and unable to do what I really want to do lead me to peruse the Internet.  I have come across all sorts of things this week.  Most of them quite disturbing.  There seems to be a lesson that a lot of people have yet to learn so let me drop a knowledge bomb on you.  Wait for it....

Christians can have fun.  There it is. Oh, and Christians can have a sense of humor.  We can enjoy life.  And we can live into the business of Christ without judging others.

 "God alone, who gave the law, is the Judge. He alone has the power to save or to destroy. So what right do you have to judge your neighbor?" James 4:12

“Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.  For you will be treated as you treat others. The standard you use in judging is the standard by which you will be judged. And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own?  How can you think of saying to your friend, ‘Let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,’ when you can’t see past the log in your own eye?  Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye." Matthew 7:1-5

How often have you seen this sentiment: "that's the problem with Christians, they're all hypocrites!" or "I could never be a part of a church because everyone who goes is so judgemental."


It's a shame that our own witness is keeping other's from discovering the great joy of living in Christ.  It's a terrible shame that our own actions are doing more harm than good.  Why is it so hard for us to just love? We can never hope to bring others into a relationship with Christ without first bringing them into a relationship with ourselves.  And newsflash people, no one wants to be around someone who is a judgemental hypocrite.

That's my rant for the day.  I pray that we can all look into ourselves and become the vessel that God calls us to be.

Blessings my friends!

Wisdom from Abe...

The other day my wonderful husband brought me home Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter which I have been wanting to read for a very long time.  Just for the record, I'm not quite half way through and I LOVE it.  It's quite enjoyable.  Last night I was reading and came upon this jewel: "Judge us not equally." Now in the book this quote is referencing Vampires and slaves, but how relevant is it to us normal folk?

Yesterday I read a blog written by my cousin who told the story about an experience he had on a recent flight.  I won't link you there because I haven't asked for his permission, but to sum up it was about a young man of middle eastern decent who was shown disdain and prejudice by an older woman based solely on his appearance.  My cousin shared how even after the young man jumped up to offer this woman assistance with her luggage, she still glared at him with judgment.  Now, there was more to the story but I was struck by the thought of how often we judge something or someone based on something else entirely.

For instance it seems that in our society Christianity has become somewhat taboo.  I've become even more aware of this now that I've moved out of the Bible Belt.  Christians are judged as being judgemental, hypocritical, and ultra-conservative.  We are being judged that way based on the actions of a few.

Judge us not equally.

It is unfortunate that there are "Christians" who are quite vocal about their lack of love for their brothers.  Can we not make it our mission to change this image being touted about this nation? 

I know that lately I have been blogging a lot about love.  I feel transformed.  There's no other way to say it.  It's a hard thing to love, really hard, but lately I find it just a little bit easier.  What was once a struggle to see the good in every situation has become closer to being a part of my nature.  There are certain parts of my life that I still hold a prejudice for, certainly, but those things are few.  I am a different person.  I love more, I judge less, and I feel a need to be a difference in our world.

Join me on this mission won't you please?

Blessings to you this day.

Post so random...

To say I am exhausted would be a huge understatement.  I am beyond tired, so much so that my body aches with fatigue.  The weekend we had in Plainview celebrating Mother's Day and Zoe's birthday really took it's toll on us.  We are all still trying to recover which has resulted in more than a few melt-downs in this house.

I really did enjoy our visit back in Plainview.  Though we no longer consider Plainview our "home" we still enjoy getting to see our family, especially when we have the time to visit everyone and not be rushed.

Zach and I took advantage of the six hours with little radio reception to talk to one another, really talk, which isn't something we are able to do very often.  We talked about a lot of things - our future, our visions for our ministry, the paths that led us to where we are now, and where we see God working in our lives.  What a great relief to know that we are both on the same page on most of these issues.  I really have found my soul mate.

Another great moment was when we got to share some of these revelations with our dear "sister" (not by blood but brought together by God) Erin.  I can not wait to see what God has in store for her and her future husband.

Keeping on with the randomness of this post I would encourage you all to read Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller.  I have only made it through about half of this book but I think about it often.  It's not the type of book I would usually read but I am glad I picked it up.

Zoe had a great birthday.  She got to have a sleepover with her cousins, something which she has been asking for for a long time, and eat lots of cake.  So much so that she was turning down ice cream.  I think she is struggling with the idea of being five and therefore, a "really big girl."  The other night she was watching as I went to check on Noah after he fell asleep for the night (at 5:30 - I told you we had a rough weekend).  She noted how I arranged his pillows and moved somethings around and then tucked his blanket around him.  Later that night as I was putting her to bed she asked,"Mom, will you do with my blanket and pillows what you did with Noah?"  I complied, though it wasn't necessary, and she was pacified.  Last night when we told her to go to bed she asked again,"Mom, will you do to me what you do to Noah when you check on him?"  Again I complied. 

This got me thinking, though we grow older and less dependent on others sometimes we need to know that if we need it, someone will be there to take care of us.  Sometimes we need to know that even when we don't need it, someone is there to let us know we are loved and cared for.

My heart is full and here's hoping yours is too.

My "really big girl."

YOLO

YOLO. I know most of you are very familiar with this acronym.  It's very popular with the younger generations.  I first saw it popping up in my facebook news feed and, being more unhip than I thought, had no idea what it meant.  I actually had to Google it to find out it means "you only live once."  It's a great life motto, if you use it correctly.  Unfortunately, many people choose to use this saying as a justification of doing anything that they want.  "You only live once so what if I do this incredibly stupid thing?"  "You only live once so what if I do something that hurts another person?"  Yeah, you get the idea.

For me, and I assume many others, this is simply a reminder to not take those things/people/experiences in our lives for granted.  It's trendy, and to certain hipsters it's probably taboo, but, to remind ourselves that we only have this one life to live can encourage us to make better choices.  Something that I came across while teaching Confirmation (in fact it may have been quoted once in some sermon here recently) is that if you leave this place without having made at least one change to make it better then you did not live up to your life's purpose.  We all have a purpose in life, to love as Jesus has taught us to love.  We never know when it's our time to leave this world, or, for that matter, when it's time for someone else to leave this world.  Why should we put off for tomorrow the good we can do today?

There's a news story floating about that I'm sure has many others like me reaching for the tissue.  It's the story of the little baby who's parents were told she didn't have long to live.  They created a bucket list for her short little life which, unfortunately, ended much too soon.  Here's a link to the article if you haven't seen it.  It's a heart breaking story and I can't imagine what her parents must be going through.  I know if it were me I would probably be wallowing in "what-ifs" and regrets over every wasted moment I had with my child.

Disaster can happen at any moment to any one of us.  Each moment we have with someone we care about could be our last.  What regrets would you have if something happened tomorrow to one of your loved ones?

My sweet little girl is going to be five on Friday.  I can't believe how quickly time has gone and I know that before I know it I will be posting pictures of her Senior Prom on Facebook (or it's equivalent in 12 years).  Already I have regrets of time wasted with my little girl.  Weeks go by and I haven't used the time with my family wisely.  We let our lives go by in a blur of business and have nothing to show for it.  We spend our days working, cleaning, running around crazy, and when we have the chance to just "be" with our family we spend it sprawled in front of the tv or snapping at our kids who are vying for our attention.  Opportunities to be with those we care about are wasted.

Tonight after an evening of Zach and I going our different ways for work we were able to meet up at McAllisters for supper.  There we were, sitting outside on the patio, eating as a family, enjoying the perfect weather and watching the sun go down behind the mountains.  It was perfectly peaceful and I fully appreciated that moment with my family.

You Only Live Once.  Are you wasting your life or are you making the most of the gift of time that has generously been given to everyone of us? 

May you always see your blessings for what they are and never take them for granted...

Because He loves us...

I had one busy weekend and here it is Tuesday, and I am finally feeling normal again.  Friday night I had a lock-in at church.  Saturday I was able to rest a couple of hours before I got up to clean and get ready to have company over for a pool party.  Sunday was our last Confirmation class followed by a viewing of The Passion of The Christ at Wesley with the other Methodist youth groups in town.  Busy, yes, but also very rewarding.

The movie was a great way to kick off Holy Week.  I don't know about many others, but, in the past, Holy Week was mainly about Good Friday and Easter.  This year I find that I am so much more aware about what this time means to those who believe.  I find myself reflecting on the Passion as I go about my daily routine. 

We have all heard the story of the Crucifixion and the events leading up to it many times.  We read the passages from the Gospels every year and the story is always the same.  For me, however, this year is different.  I remember the first time I saw the Passion movie, years ago when it came out in theaters, and being extremely moved.  I remember crying and flinching with every strike of the whip.  This year, after teaching confirmation, I really wanted my youth to experience that same thing.  As humans, very often we need something physical, something tangible, to connect with.  The movie, although an artistic expression and not entirely biblical, is a great visual of the Crucifixion.

This time when watching the movie there was something different about me.  I am a mother now and I wasn't the last time I watched it.  I connected much more with Mary this time.  I sat there asking how I would be able to stay and see my son put through so much.  How much faith it would have to take to stand there and see my flesh and blood hanging on the cross...how much strength to stand back and allow his death to happen.  Sometimes we don't acknowledge that for Mary, Jesus was her son, whom she loved with a mother's love, and he was also her savior.  She knew what he was and what his future held and yet he was her son, a life she carried, labored for, watched as he learned to crawl, and cherished long before anyone else even knew his name.

Today I was meditating on the sacrifice that Jesus made for us.  We often think of the physical pain he was put through, the humiliation he endured, and thank Him for enduring those things.  Today I was thinking about what else he had to endure for us during that time.  Yes, physical pain beyond what we can even comprehend, but more than that.  Jesus loves us all with a love we don't even understand.  He loved the Romans who were inflicting such pain on him, who were taunting him.  He loved that man who crushed a crown of thorns on his head.  He loved those who arrested him, who put him on trial and demanded his death.  He loved Barabbas who willingly allowed Jesus to take his place up on that hill.  He loved them all more than I love my children.  He loved them and had to endure seeing them want nothing more than to see him hurt.  He loved Peter and had to deal with the knowledge that Peter would deny him, not once but three times.  He had to watch Judas betray him.  And he has to endure the hurt of seeing us deny him each and every single day.  What pain he endures for us.   We fail Him and yet He forgives us.  He continues to love us even when we fail to love one another.  I am humbled.

As you go through this week and the days beyond remember He that loves you, He sacrificed everything for you, and remember that all He asks in return is that you love.

Today I went to a worship service at noon and came away with this mantra:
1. Love everyone.
2. Love everyone.
3. Let everyone know they are loved.

Thanks Travis for that.  May you all know how much you are loved.

What doesn't destroy us...

I hate to complain via the internet but it's been a rough week for me.  I've been struggling with back pain for over a year after injuring it trying to move to New Boston and have been visiting a chiropractor twice weekly for a while now.  After every visit I hurt more and after my visit on Tuesday was laid up in bed for three days.  That's a hard thing for anyone, especially one with two small children who, because when it rains it pours, have both gotten sick.  Zach has been able to be home a little more and that has been most helpful.  However, he's gone today, and although I am feeling better, today is very difficult for me.  You see, it was this time last year, as I was waiting for Zach to come home from Upwards basketball so we could meet some friends in Texarkana for lunch, that I started bleeding and would soon learn the pregnancy I had been 10 weeks into was ending.  In the quiet moments yesterday and today I am taken back a year ago and the next thing I know my face is wet with tears.  I mourn that life that never was and the dreams I had that never came to realization.

It's a difficult time and I certainly wish Zach was home with me instead of on yet another Wesley trip, but I know this too shall pass.  I will get through this day, just like I was able to get through the days that I endured a year ago, consumed with pain, more intense than I've ever experienced.  I will hold my children tight, tend to their needs and try not to think about the sibling they will never know.

The Lord has blessed me, and He will carry me through today, just as He has every other day.  Thanks be to Him...

Blessed by a miracle...

Hello all.  I wanted to devote this blog entry to my wonderful husband, Zach.  Last night, after a delightful night out, just the two of us, I reflected on how very fortunate I am to have Zach in my life.

For those of you who don't know, Zach is fortunate to be alive.  He was born 3 months premature and spent his first weeks in the NICU.  His twin, John David, did not survive.  By some miracle, Zach did, and I am so grateful.  I am grateful for my miracle, my healthy, happy, crazy, funny, smart, wise, and loving miracle.  I can not imagine what my life would be like if I didn't have this man in my life.  I know for sure, I wouldn't be half the woman I am today without him.  Thank you Lord for blessing my life and countless others with this man.

I hope Zach enjoyed his birthday.  It was a low key affair, no presents, no grand celebration.  Last night we had our date night, and even though it wasn't exciting by any means, it was calm and quiet.  Thankful for Wesley kids who are willing to babysit!  Today was a busy day for Zach.  We had church, then Zach had to prepare for a hike up "Aggie" Mountain with Wesley.  Unfortunately, rain kept them from hiking so they chose to worship at the Wesley instead.  Soon after that we hosted the Wesley Leadership Christmas Party at our house with "Methodist" burgers and a cake I baked for Zach.  They are a great group and I hope everyone enjoyed it, I know we did.

I also hope that Zach knows how much he is loved. Loved by me and by his children.  Zoe is certain that the sun sets and rises on her daddy, and what a great daddy he is.  May we never take him for granted.

LOVE YOU ZACH!!