We're Back.

So, it's August ... wait no, it's September.  Good grief this year has flown!  Either way we have entered the last quarter of the year, and sadly this is my first post of 2013.  In my defense, my laptop croaked in March and I have been without one until yesterday ... that's like six months.  As far as where I was the second half of last December and January & February ... well, I have no valid excuse for that.  But all of that is behind us now, and we are up, running, and back in business.

I've had the blogger's itch for months -- wanting to write, but having no access to do such.  When I logged in to see where I had left off,  I was pleasantly surprised to see that I've actually received traffic over the last few months despite my absence. Oddly enough, I seem to be blowing up in Russia.  Of all the places across the globe, I never dreamed I'd be getting significant hits in the land of a frozen tundra. But I'll take it.  Hello, Russia!



There is a lot to catch up on, but doing it all in one post will most likely exhaust you, and give me carpal tunnel.  So, I'll just catch up on the biggest news that has happened since the last post, and all the other news can unfold in posts to come. 

I am a stay at home mom.  I quit my job in December, and my last official day of employment was January 4 of this year.  So it's official ... I am a tried and true, real live, completely exhausted, but extremely happy stay at home mom.  It's fantastic!  A little terrifying at first, but it's amazing the doors that the good Lord will open when we just let go, and let Him do His thing.  And of course, putting in some effort on your end, and praying like there's no tomorrow.  And leaning on friends ... and family.  And crying.  And praying some more.  And crying some more.  And when you're freaking out and wondering what the heck you were thinking by quitting your job, your friends with life experience and life perspective will gently (okay, sometimes firmly) bring you back to reality.  And then crying a little bit more.  And praying more than you're crying.  And then, before you can dry your tears, He has worked everything out better than your brain ever could have imagined. His plans are always better than ours ...  always.

The kicker is, in order to make our financial ends meet, I am nannying children in our home.  Keep in mind, home means apartment -- not house with a back yard where kids can run and burn off energy.  Nope, an 1,100sqft apartment on the second floor with a small screened in porch, that's better equipped for house plants than people.  As of now, besides my own girls, I only have one full time baby I watch, and one part time little boy.  Since last November, I have cared for a total of  eight children -- not all at once.  However, when I first started, I had not just one, not just two, but three babies I was watching.  Yes, babies -- as in under a year old.  And three of them ... one, two, three.  Three babies under a year old.  Diapers ... diapers, everywhere.  Spit up.  Poop.  Baby food.  Screaming.  Bottles.  Toys.  Diaper rash ointment.  First time moms.  I should write a book ... or a blog -- there's a thought. 

By June I was caring for five children (at once), and at one point, for one day only, I had six.  Yes, six.  I'm not insane, I assure you.  Then again, maybe I am.  Surprisingly, on most days, things go pretty smoothly.  I have no time to myself.  Peeing is a luxury.  Peeing alone doesn't happen - ever.  On the plus side, there is almost always one child sleeping.  But for every one child that's asleep, there is another who's hungry, or needs their pants changed, or is screaming for some ungodly reason, or they need their sippy cup refilled, or they're putting something in their mouth that doesn't belong, or they're playing in the sink ... you get the idea.  

The most draining thing is that when all the other kids have gone home, I still don't get a break.  That's motherhood though, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Sometimes, the frustration does get to me though ... being at home all day, five days a week, without another adult to talk to can get lonely.  Continuously picking up the same toys multiple times a day seems pointless.  And don't get me started on the number of escapee cheerios I pick up on a daily basis.  Despite the chaos that is my day to day life, I feel extremely blessed.  Being at home with my girls, and having the luxury of experiencing all of little Em's first year has been a blessing.  I wasn't able to do that with G.  Also, being able to watch Miss G grow from a tot of two to a beautiful almost-four-year-old little girl is so rewarding. 

The other day, I heard a fellow stay at home mom talk about how "lucky" she is to be at home with her children.  She may feel "lucky", but I know my dream of being at home is not by luck.  I know, without a doubt, that God put me here.  He gave me my beautiful girls, and worked out every detail in order for me to quit my job so that I could be home to raise them.  Our family is blessed beyond belief.  God's goodness is infinite, and for that, we are eternally grateful.

 

Seasons.

I've wanted to write about "seasons" since the first of the year, but something kept telling me to wait.  Now I know why, and you'll know why too, as you continue to read.  I'm not talking about the seasons of the year as in Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall ... but more so, the seasons of life. 

There's an old song by The Byrds that goes, "To everything (turn, turn, turn), There is a season (turn, turn, turn), And a time for every purpose under Heaven..."  You'll now have that song stuck in your head for the rest of the afternoon - no joke.  And for those of you who don't realize it, the lyrics to that song are actually straight from the pages of the Bible.  In the book of Ecclesiastes it reads, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven..." Ecc 3:1.  It's one of my favorite verses.  When I graduated from high school, I wrote and delivered a speech based on Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.  I wish I could find that speech.  Hmmm ....

Life is full of seasons - career moves, trends, romantic relationships, friendships, hobbies, living arrangements - it's all seasonal.  Some seasons are good, and some are bad.  Some are ugly, some beautiful.  There are some we want to remember forever, and others of which we'd chose to wipe our memories clean given the chance.  Each of us is going through a season right now.  With the new year still fresh in our minds, many of us choose to reflect on life ... the seasons it brings ... the season of which we find ourselves now ... and what the next season has in store for us. 

Last week was rough for me - Thursday in particular.  It started like any other Thursday, but before it was over I had a complete meltdown in front of my supervisor.  She could tell I hadn't been myself since Christmas vacation had been over.  She asked what was going on, and I completely burst into tears.  Bless her heart - I don't think she was expecting that.  Being the woman she is, she gave me words of encouragement, and was as understanding as she always is. 

What was with my explosion of emotion?  It's all about how hard I find it to be in one place, when my heart is somewhere else.  To have had to get up every morning for the past two years, and leave the love of my life at home or with a nanny.   To sit in an office for eight hours, while someone else cares for the child that I carried in my womb for nine months, and who I spent twenty six hours in labor with, and who I love more than life itself.  And I pray, and I pray, and I pray ... to the point where I think my prayers almost sound like begging.  God must seriously get sick of me.  But there you have it - that's where my meltdown came from.  My heart is yearning to be home, but I guess it's not time yet.  It's been weighing so heavily on me lately, and I finally just broke down.

That night, I told Mr. M what had happened.  He reminded me I will be home eventually - maybe sooner than I think - but God has me where He wants me right now.  I'm right where I'm supposed to be.  I reluctantly agreed, because I knew he was right. 

Fast forward to Sunday.  In Learning to Trust, I spoke briefly on the series our pastor is doing about trusting.  The series continues, and this past week as the pastor delivered his message, God spoke through him and directly to me.  He said,

"You can look at who you are and get a sense of who God has called you to be .... God knew what He was doing.  God knows what He's made us for.  Sometimes you'll look at the seasons in your life.  Ya know, God may put a dream in your heart, and then say, 'Not now.' ... And so sometimes, God's season for you may be later on down the line.  You can tell God's will for your life sometimes by just looking at the season of life you're in." 

When I heard those words, I was like "Alright, Lord - thank you.  Thank you."  It never ceases to amaze me how the Lord speaks so clearly when we need it the most.  

I'm hoping my stay-at-home-mom season is right around the corner...I know it's where I'm supposed to be.  Until then, I will face my current season with courage and commitment, and trust that the right doors will open at the right time.  Having faith in God is having faith in His timing too.  

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:  a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, 

a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. 

~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Resolutions.

In my first post of this year, I mentioned new year resolutions in passing.  I said I'd come back to them, and here I am.  Obviously, I've dropped the ball on that whole stop procrastinating thing.  Oh well. 

I try to avoid harping on resolutions and goals for the upcoming year - if they happen, they happen.  If not, there is always next year, right?  Wrong attitude to have, I know.  But in my defense, I've found, that once you announce to the world that you are striving toward a particular goal, you've pretty much death-sentenced yourself.  Everyone is watching with bated breath, waiting for you to fail only so that you can start over again six-months later.  It tends to be human nature to set huge, unaccomplishable (no, I don't think that's a real word either) goals for ourselves.  Although I do believe that any goal can be achieved with dedication and hard work, most times we expect to reach success in a very short time frame -- and that's how we usually get ourselves into trouble.  Even if we're on the path to success, once we have failed to meet our time frame and our resources run dry we tend to dive into the pool of discouragement, which ultimately leaves us to drown in self-defeat.  A vicious cycle.

That being said, I decided to look at my resolutions as improvements in my overall well-being for the year -- spiritually, financially, emotionally and physically. 

Spiritually.  I'd like to be more adamant about doing a devotional every day - quiet time set aside to really chew on and digest the Scriptures like I should.  It's shameful for me to admit that I'm thirty years old and have yet to read the Bible cover-to-cover.  Granted, I have probably read about eighty percent of it, but never straight through from front to back.   I have the desire, but lack the dedication.  I'm a jerk.  Also, having a more serious prayer time would be great, as opposed to my twenty minutes of rambling to God about my problems during my drive to work every morning. 

Financially.  Coupons and budgeting are going to be my new best friends.  I've always done budgeting, but once again it's dedication that we lack.  I say we, because while I solely hold the family accountant responsibilities, it's up to both Mr. M and I to stick to the budget that's put into place.  Coupons are also a great way to improve your financial situation.  I caught a marathon of TLC's Extreme Couponing over my Christmas break, and it was pretty amazing.  I doubt, I'll ever pay $4.84 for over $857 worth of groceries, but if I can save a few bucks here and there, it's worth it. 

Emotionally.  I used to journal a lot.  I have journal entries that date back to when Mr. M and I were still dating.  It's always so funny to rewind five years and see what was going on in life.  Because I've dealt with anxiety off and on since I was nineteen, it's important to me to have an emotional release of some sort.  In the past, the piano has been an incredible help, along with gardening, sewing ... pretty  much anything that will distract my mind.  Having a good cry helps, but if it's a rough day at work, I can't sit at my office with a box of kleenex while I work through reports.  Not very effective.

Physically.  I think every woman vows to lose x-amount of pounds, every January of every year without fail.  I did Weight Watchers a few years back.  It works for me when I'm dedicated.  Geez, it's sounding like I should be writing a post about dedication rather than resolutions - dedication is obviously my problem, or lack thereof.  Good grief!  This past year, I managed to lose about twenty pounds, plateaued, gained back half of it, but still rang in the New Year ten pounds lighter than last year.  So, I'll take it. 

Overall, I don't think my improvement list is too unrealistic.  With a little help from the hubs, a lot of dedication, and a lot more prayer, I believe 2012 will be a good year. 

Please feel free to share with me some of your goals for the new year. 

Learning to Trust.

"Trust me!"

We hear that phrase a lot - on the television, from politicians, even from friends and family.  Sometimes it's in regard to trivial things like trying new foods, "Dude, trust me - you're gonna love it!"  Or perhaps when recommending a movie that we've just watched and loved, "It's the best movie ever!!  Trust me!"  And then sometimes it's a more serious situation when a loved one is asking you to trust them in a huge decision making process, or they could be encouraging you, during a hardship, to trust and believe that everything is going to be okay.  Regardless of the situation, trust is a big deal. 

This past Sunday, our pastor did a sermon all about trust.  The verse he lead his message with was Proverbs 3:5-6.  It's a verse that follows me, and I've found comfort in time after time.  This past Sunday was no different. 

Post-holidays, I had a case of the blues.  I get them every year.  This year has seemingly been worse, and I'm not sure why.  As I sat there in the sanctuary and listened to the pastor's words, I felt encouraged.  I left church that Sunday on a high to embark on the rest of the week.  That high was quickly deflated as the reality of heading back to work and leaving my baby girl alone hit me in the face on Tuesday morning.  I kept hearing that verse in my head though, and was trying to have a good attitude despite my frustration and inner self-pity.  Wednesday would be better - it has to be better.  Wrong.  Wednesday was the worst.  Fighting back tears and feeling ridiculously depressed was how I spent the hours of 8:00 to 4:30.  The afternoon dragged along.  When the whistle finally blew, I was out of there.

The evening turned out to be not so bad.  I got news of something that I had been hoping for - news that I will share with you at a later date.  I had dinner ready when Mr. M got home from work, and Miss G was in a pleasant and playful mood.  It was a sour day gone sweet.  When I finally crawled into bed, the disappointments of the day were still in the back of my mind.  I knew that if I let them, they could very easily send me into another stressful tizzy of worry.   So, I shut them out, and fell asleep.

Six AM, and my alarm sounds.  Ugh!  Another day away from child is all I could think.  I could feel the stress, discouragement, depression welling up inside.  I turned on the Weather Channel - thirty degrees.  What am I gonna wear?  I grabbed my cell phone and headed into the bathroom.  I'm flipping through the one hundred plus messages in my inbox, looking for it.  Ah-ha!   I found it ... my daily Bible verse that I start every morning with.  I couldn't believe it, it was that verse again.   Proverbs 3:5-6.  "Alright, God...I get it.  I get it." 

It's amazing to me how many times in my life, I've so willingly trusted another human being yet I lay in bed at night worrying over things that I just can't give to the Lord.  Why?  I don't know.  But it's definitely my biggest flaw.  Trust is learned.  I've become very aware of that in the last two years as I watch G grow.  She has had to learn to trust me and Mr. M as her parents.  Pediatricians and child-rearing books are adamant about practicing trust-building exercises with young children.  We did many of these with G, and continue to do them.  Some are of the physical and others emotional.  Either way, they build trust and strength amongst the three of us.  When she was learning to walk, she knew we weren't going to let her fall.  And if she stumbled, she knows we'd catch her.  If she falls down, we help her up. 

Every time we get in the car, G takes off her shoes - it's a given.  When we arrive to our destination, we unbuckle her, grab her shoes, and then place G on the roof of the car to put them back on her feet.  We never leave her unattended, or take a hand off of her.  Just the other day, Mr. M sat G on the roof as he put on her shoes.  He stood directly in front of her, his hand on her the entire time.  "Don't fall!  Don't fall!" she repeated as she often does when she gets nervous sitting or standing in a higher-than-normal place.  "You're not gonna fall, I gotcha.  Trust me!" he said. 

Although, I've seen this occurrence take place time and time again, something clicked this time.  How often do we find ourselves on a roof top, no shoes, pleading, "Don't fall!  Don't fall!", only to find that our Father has His hand on us the entire time?  We might panic, we might cry, we might throw a fit.  But if we take time to listen, we'll hear Him say, "You're not gonna fall, I gotcha.  Trust me!" 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. 

Proverbs 3:5-6

From the Pit to the Palace.

Another year, another month, another fresh start.  The beginning of the year is a time for resolutions and reflection on the prior twelve months.  It's funny to me how so many people vow to not make resolutions because they don't "believe in them" or they fear breaking them.  However, these same people set new goals for the year ahead and hold to the hope of meeting those goals.  But isn't that the same thing as a resolution?  I dunno.  Maybe it's different to some people.  Either way, I do plan on talking about resolutions for this year, but not in this post.  Today, I'm reflecting on 2011.  Some of you know the saga that unfolded during the first half of this past year, but most of you don't.  Sparing you all of the details, I'll recap the year below.

Divorce.  It's an ever-growing reality in our society.  No one goes into marriage thinking it's not going to work.  Maybe some do, but I think it's safe to estimate that when most people say "I do" they're intentions are forever.  If you know us personally, or have read the story of me and Mr. M, you can imagine that it was quite the shock to everybody when we filed for divorce earlier this year.  Things all started in the summer of 2010.  There was drama.  We sought out family and close friend advice, prayed, and even did marriage counseling.  We made amends in November of 2010 and things got better for awhile.  By February of this past year, things had gone to the toilet once again, and we had both had enough. 

Looking back, I guess our decision to divorce was very much in haste.  We filed in late May.  I dropped the paper work off at the courthouse after work one afternoon.  It was a Thursday.  Fear.  Excitement.  Anxiety.  Pressure.  Relief.  Confusion.  I cried all the way home.  What were we doing?  Was this really the only way?  Could we work this out?  

That following weekend was Memorial Day weekend - me and G headed to my parents' place to get away from it all for a couple of days.  I drove up to the church where I grew up and where my parents still attend, and spent three hours there ... alone.  It was me, the piano, and God.  I played the hell out of those keys.  I cried.  I prayed.  I was numb.  There was a stirring within.  By the time I left, it was raining, and I felt a sense of  relief.  It was like I had spent three hours in a detox session for my soul. 

Mr. M and I were still on speaking terms and had talked quite a bit via text that weekend.  I missed him already, but he didn't know that.  On Tuesday, May 31, everything changed.  I dropped G off at the nanny's that morning, and as soon as I climbed back in the car to head to work, I began to cry.  I was completely broken.  I prayed.  I prayed the most earnest, heart-felt prayer I had prayed in months.  I sat there in my car, blubbering, and I said, "Alright, Lord...I need a clear as day sign that we are supposed to be together forever.  I mean no questions asked...I have to know, and I have to know by the end of the day...."  There were three specific things I prayed to witness before the day was over.  Like clock work, God delivered.  I was stunned, shocked, relieved and terrified to even mention it to Mr. M. 

I prayed for the right words to talk to him.  I texted him and said, I'd been thinking and praying, and needed to talk to him.  That night, I wrote him a letter.  I gave it to him before he went to bed, and then I waited.  It was the longest night of my life. The next morning, I thought for sure he'd have something to say to me, but I got nothing but silence.  Had too much damage already been done?  Was it really over?  What had I done?  What had WE done?  Finally, that afternoon, my office phone rang.  It was him.  I picked it up...

"Hello."  I said. 

"Hey Baby!  Can you hear me okay?"  He hadn't called me baby in weeks. 

"Hi, yeah.  What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know that everything is going to be okay - we're gonna be okay." 

Click.  He hung up immediately after that, and explained later that he had called just to tell me we'd be fine, and didn't want to draw it out over the phone.

I get choked up just writing those words, because I can't express what a relief it was to hear.  I was ecstatic, comforted, at ease, overjoyed.  I was giddy.  A friend drove me to the courthouse the next day on our lunch break so that I could retract our divorce paperwork.  When I gave the clerk my notarized letter to permanently cease all future action around this case, she looked at me funny.  She said, "Are you sure you don't want to temporarily hold it to avoid paying the court fees again later?"  I smiled, "I'm sure." 

June 1, 2011 was the beginning of a new chapter for me and Mr. M.  We've still had our ups and downs, but we're making it.  I never dreamed that our marriage would ever be what it is now.  We have passion.  We have friendship.  We have love.  We're not perfect.  We argue over petty things.  We cry.  We get on each other's nerves sometimes.  But we have one another to lean on no matter what.  And at the end of the day, there is no one else I'd rather fall asleep next too.  He is my one and only - together forever.   

When I look back at all we endured this year - near divorce, heart break, unemployment, a miscarriage - it was a rough year.  There were lots of trials and hardships.  But I know we'd never be where we are today had we not been through the struggles and emotional hell that took place in these past twelve months.  We're still working on us every day.  Marriage is a lot of work, but it's so worth it.  For every tear, there has been a laugh.  And for every argument, an "I love you".  We're getting to where we need to be, and it's been worth the fight. 

Right after Mr. M and I reconciled, a dear friend of mine said something to me that I will never, ever forget.  She started the conversation by telling me that she knew it wasn't over with us when we filed, and that she had been praying daily for us.  Then she told me this, "Adrianne, sometimes God allows us to go down to the bottom of the pit before He'll bring us up to the palace."  Truth. 

We've seen our marriage pit, and every day is a step closer to the palace.  Here's to a brighter 2012!

Happy New Year!

Raindrops.

Earlier this week I actually took the time to scribble down some blog ideas that came to mind.  I organized them by date...up to the 15th of November - yes, I believe that does make me borderline OCD.  Possibly not borderline...maybe just a full blown case of OCD.  My schedule wasn't etched in stone, but it's a decent compilation of ideas in case my brain decides to be tired one afternoon.  I have my helpful list of topics in front of me:  October 26 - Cooking Club of America.  October 27 - Couponing.  If you read yesterday's post, you know that A Borrowed Blog had absolutely nothing to do with the Cooking Club of America, and if you continue to read, you'll find that today's content isn't remotely close to couponing.  I'm sure you're gravely disappointed.  I'll make it up to you.

Nutmeg and B in Kentucky.

My sister, Nutmeg (it's a nickname, not her real name), lives in Tennessee.  Well...before I go any further, let me first back up and school you in how that came about.  My sister and I went to college together - we were roommates, believe it or not.  We always shared a room growing up, so it just seemed normal to live in the same room once we moved out.  We did the dorm life thing for three years until we moved into our first apartment.  We were both working full time as preschool teachers, and could afford to live somewhere off campus.  So, we found a place within walking distance of school and work, and moved in.  It was a two-bedroom, second floor duplex on Winfree Street.  It was old, and drafty with no dishwasher, and only a window unit air conditioning -- anyone in Florida knows window units and the summer heat just weren't made for each other.  God bless the inventor of fans!  Our apartment had the original hard wood floors, arched door ways, and the windows were white, wooden paned.  Living there, was the first time in our entire lives that we had separate bedrooms.  Adjustment.  But it was a good adjustment. 

She [my sister] started dating this guy - B.  He was in a band.  I didn't like him.  There was something that just rubbed me the wrong way.  Come to find out, me and him have much of the same personality traits, which is probably why we bumped heads.  Things are copacetic now, but it was a long time coming.  He's a great guy, and he's good to my sister.  So, I can't ask for much more than that.  Back to what I was saying...they dated for awhile, but eventually broke up when he decided to move back home to Tennessee.  In the months following, a lot of changes happened.  I got married, our positions at the preschool both came to an end, and our cozy Winfree apartment was soon traded in for a much nicer place that could accommodate the two of us plus my new groom.  It wasn't but two months after M and I got married, that Nutmeg was offered a full time nanny position with a family we had taught in the preschool.  The only catch?  It was in Kentucky.  She soon moved, and life was way different - for me and her.  If you know anything about geography, you'll know that Kentucky and Tennessee are neighboring states...the ex-boyfriend had now morphed into best friend, and Nutmeg was quickly adopted into the family.  This proved to be an even bigger blessing, when the nanny position ended, and she was offered a corporate position in TN just a few months later. 

Muff Muff the cat.

B's family was her family - a home away from home.  He lived at home with his parents, two brothers, Muff-Muff the cat, and Patches - a smelly little dog that no one seemed to like.  Strangely, when I visited, I really bonded with the smelly dog...not sure what that's saying about me.  Poor Patches.  Back to the story...B and Nutmeg eventually went from best friends back to an item.  She got along really well with B's entire family, but she had a unique connection with B's mom...almost like kindred spirits if you will. 

Over the past two years, I've heard story after story about the mother-daughter relationship they have formed...they have coffee together, go to movies, go shopping, cook together, talk - everything a mother-daughter would do.  I don't think I've ever told Nutmeg, but I've always counted it as a blessing for her to have a bond like that with B's mom.  Before she moved, me and Nutmeg were always together, and not having that in-person, day-to-day, sisterly connection has been hard at times.  But, I've found comfort for her knowing that she's got someone there. 

In May 2010, things changed.  B's mom was diagnosed with a rare brain tumor.  They did her first surgery a month after being diagnosed - most of her symptoms slowly subsided, and life got back to normal.  Then there were seizures, and another surgery followed in December of last year.  She wasn't back to 100%, but through many prayers of loved ones and strangers alike, she was on the road to recovery.  Out of nowhere on August 30 of this year, I get a text from my sister saying that they had just rushed B's mom to the hospital following another seizure.  At first, they thought it was a side effect of the medicine she was on.  They ran tests - the tumor was back.  This time, inoperable.  According to doctors, there's about a month left. 

I've met B's mom once, and felt like I had known her forever.  Absolutely one of the most loving, giving, carefree people I've ever met.  Genuine.  After my sister gave me the news today, I was pretty much left speechless.  Completely in shock.  My heart sank to my stomach.  I don't understand it.  Suddenly, the Cooking Club of America and couponing didn't seem important at all.  Perspective.  I sat in my office - alone - thinking, praying, listening.  A song came on the radio - the words seemed so appropriate...

 'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops

What if your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights is what it takes to know You're near

What if trials of this life, are Your mercies in disguise?

God is bigger.  God is greater.  God is Healer. 

Choosing to Love.

Yesterday was Sunday...and in our household, Sunday's are about faith and family.  It's church service in the morning, followed by lunch, and then if we're lucky, relaxation.  We had an unusually busy Saturday this weekend.  I was supposed to participate in our local Breast Cancer Walk, but woke up feeling utterly exhausted and gross.  After making the executive decision to stay home with my daughter and husband, the guilt set in.  I went so far as to asking God for forgiveness for bailing out on my team.  Forgiveness for what, I still don't know...failing to participate in a community walk isn't a sin, but somehow uttering that tiny prayer made me feel a little less guilty.

G is in the green.  Her new buddy is on the right.

Later on Saturday, we visited some good friends of ours who we've been trying to get together with for months...maybe longer than months.  Actually, the last time we saw each other was when my daughter was a newborn - she'll be two this January.  So yeah, it's been awhile.  They were having a get together at their church - it was on a farm out in the country.  It was beautiful.  Our daughters played until they were completely pooped.  Following the farm, M (my husband) and I, along with our munchkin had dinner plans with Grandmom and Poppie - those are my parents.  So, off we go, for another socializing affair.  It was a great time though.  Nothing goes together better than food and family.  By the time we had finished up dinner, it was close to 8:30 and we had an hour drive back home.  Little G hadn't had her daily nap, and had been fussy earlier that evening.  I was dreading the 50 mile drive home with a tired, whiny baby.  Surprisingly, with a tummy full of homemade macaroni and cheese, G fell asleep in less then 10 minutes.  My husband and I were most thankful for the quiet drive home.

And now, we're up to Sunday morning.  Got up, made waffles and eggs, and I tried to compile a grocery list over breakfast.  It didn't happen.  I mentioned to M about possibly skipping church, but then I knew how much G loves her Sunday school class.  So, in a rush to get out the door on time, I did a quick inventory of the pantry, shoved my ingredients' list for lasagna into my purse, and we were soon on our way.  We pulled into church with 3 minutes to spare.  Found our usual seat, and I got comfortable waiting for the service to start.  Praise and worship began, but I was distracted.  Everything was on my mind, except what should have been.  I was aggravated that I hadn't completed my grocery list.  I wondered what my next blog topic would be - what do people really want to read?  I was annoyed that there is constantly an endless amount of laundry strewn across my bedroom floor.  I was stressed over the thought of trying to stay within our weekly grocery budget.  I kept thinking about wanting to be a homeowner soon, and how scary that reality is - can we afford that right now?  There I was, in that sanctuary, with all these crazy things going through my mind, and all the while going through the motions of praise.  Then the music pastor said something to this effect, "Imagine if we lived out our faith in a way that we truly impacted our immediate social circle.  Think of how different our community would be...how different Florida would be....how different our country would be."  That got my attention.

Christian faith is all about love.  We choose to love - although some might argue with that.  When we are angry with them, we choose to love our spouses, our children, our siblings, our parents, our best friends, even strangers.  Some people are undoubtedly easier to love than others, but showing love to most anyone is a choice.  After hearing the pastor's words, and flipping through pictures taken this weekend, I came across the pic I posted earlier.  I thought back to Saturday, and watching those two little girls, who had never met, interact with one another in such a loving manner.  There is so much we can learn from children...so much about life, about one another, about loving each other.  Looking at the photo reminds me of the more important things in life - not grocery lists, bills, blogs, or mortgage payments - but family, faith and love.

Thought for Today...

What if you woke up today with only the things that you thanked God for yesterday?


Yeah, that'll make you stop and think. 

Life Lessons 1 - 11.

Life is funny. If we let it, it can teach us so much about others, about the world around us, and most amazingly about ourselves. I'm starting this post today, but it will continue in the days, weeks and months to come. They're in no particular order of importance, just lessons I've learned in my days on planet Earth.

1. Being an adult is overrated.

2. Running over jaywalkers is not legal, but it should be.

3. You can tell a lot about a person by the bumper stickers on their car.

4. God gave us a sense of direction before He gave us GPS.

5. Breakfast for dinner is always exciting.

6. True love really does wait.

7. Racism is taught.

8. Learning to laugh at yourself is a quick fix to embarrassment.

9. There's a fine line between ghetto and redneck...a very fine line.

10. Prayer works.

11. Choose your battles wisely.

...to be continued