Mountain Moving

It is so much easier for me to climb a visible mountain.  One foot in front of the other, right?  But it's the invisible obstacles that trip me up all the time.  Let me back up. 

I haven't written for so long and so much has happened so I'm going to have to go back to a couple of weeks ago.  It's an experience that has stayed with me and has inspired my husband so perhaps I should share it.  I decided last Saturday to tackle "the hill".  I do not like hills.  I pretty much will reroute my whole path to avoid having to run up a hill.  Then there's my definition of a hill.  Basically, if it's not level ground, it's a mountain.  Much too dramatic.  I see one and my heart kicks into another level of cardio.  But I am running out of options for avoiding them.  They are everywhere and I've put a few behind me, resisting the urge to do the "Rocky" dance at the top because that would just mess up my time.  Who am I kidding?  Like I'd have any extra energy to jump up and down once I made it to the top anyway! 

So on Saturday I decided to go for it.  This was truly a hill.  We drove it the following Monday so I could show Christian and the van had to switch gears to get up it.  The good news it that there was at least a downhill to get me started.  There was no shoulder and this was a country road so my biggest concern was getting up the hill as fast as possible before getting run over by oncoming traffic.  Ah, fear, the great motivator.  I plopped one foot in front of the other until I made it all the way up.  Did I mention that I was overdressed for the occasion?  The weather had turned cold and I freaked out and threw on long sleeves, my running tights, and gloves.  No fun.  But I made it!  Just in time to see another hill. 

That's fine, it's not as bad as the first.  I briefly considered turning around and heading to my easy route but remember the lovely downhill that I had to start me off?  It has now mysteriously turned into an uphill battle.  I'm stuck going up a hill either way.  Might as well keep going forward. 

One more hill down, and I see two in the distance.  This is not fair.  The previous hills did not warn me of  their evil twins.  And on and on.  I finally came to the biggest hill of the whole ordeal.  It went on forever.  It was one of those two part suckers where you run up, level off and then run up some more.  While I'm running up this hill, it is hot.  I have no water, I'm over dressed.  The sun is surely sending all of it's evil rays to torture me and I am an equal distance from home either way.  There are no short cuts.  Oh and cars keep coming over the cursed hill trying to see just how close they can get to me without actually hitting me.  I wonder what their point system is. 

I start praying.  I start bringing to mind all the scriptures I know about running.  I even sing the song to the "Jeffersons" at one point.  I start thinking about how God takes care of the lilies of the valley and how He's going to get me home.  And then I jump screaming over a squished snake.  You get to know road kill up close and personal when you're running. And a voice enters my head, "Take care of the lilies of the valley, huh?  You're probably gonna get squashed just like that snake."  Now, I don't know how much you read your bible and to be truthful, there are many scriptures I've forgotten but I know enough to know that it could just be negative thoughts on my part (cuz I can get pretty negative) or the devil trying to get me to worry (which isn't hard) or stop trusting.  You see, as soon as I brought God into this run, it was no longer just a run, but a spiritual battle that someone didn't want me to win.  That's what happens.  Living without God is sometimes in some ways a lot safer.  There is no battle.  You can't lose.  But you'll never finish the race either.  I seem to remember a verse, though, that talks about Jesus crushing the head of the serpent.  I can check my bible now but on my run, I just had to let him know that God wins.  God crushes Satan.  On we go, up the hill. 

This was at the three mile mark so I was still a mile and a half and a few hills from home.  Easy sailing was not happening just yet.  Did I mention I'm still trying to climb up the hill of horror?  So, since it seemed like a mountain, what do I know about mountains?  I know that if I have the faith of a mustard seed, I can move a mountain (Matt. 17:20).  And you know what happened?  It moved.  Step by step until I turned around and it was behind me.  It didn't explode or vanish into thin air.  It wasn't thrown into the sea but it was out of my way.  Sometimes I feel like our faith is supposed to make amazing things happen.  Like all the miracles I read about in the bible or hear about on the news.  To be sure, faith can make that happen.  But it is a faith that moves.  A faith that says "I believe" is nothing with out action that shows "I believe."  And that's where I get stuck sometimes.  I can talk a good game but when it's time to step out of the boat, I become a pansy.  More often than not, I fail the faith test.  More often than not, I'm more content to stay in the valley rather than make the painful journey up and out to get where I need to be.  But it's so worth it, to look over my shoulder and know that the mountain is behind me because I chose to take one step after the other and believe that God would get me home. 

I'm trying really hard to resist the alliteration that popped in my head...doubt, debt, dishes!  I can't help it!  I always find a cheesy one!  I'm sorry.  Even if your mountain doesn't begin with a "d", God's got more than enough strength to get you to the other side.  Ooh, laundry.  That one doesn't begin with a "d"...

Hand Foot Mouth, History, and Hymns...and Hammy Titles

I'm so glad this week ended on a good note.  We started off with the fevers leftover from last weekend.  104 for Aria and by the time it caught Coen, I couldn't fine the darn thing but it was high.  And then the rashes.  I just went to the doctor on Thursday with Aria!  A fever that high usually sends us to the doctor but it wasn't an ear infection or strep.  A mystery virus.  But the rashes.  I had never seen a rash like Coen's before.  I have seen a few in my time as a preschool teacher but nothing like this.  So of course the only smart thing to do was to Google childhood rashes. 

If you'd like to scare yourself silly and convince yourself that your child has mono, do what I did.  I knew going in this was a bad idea.  I told myself to keep cool, to not believe in Crone's disease, to remain objective.  Yeah, that flew out the window real quick.  Mono, meningitis, Rheumatic fever, all of these panic-inducing results flashed on the page.  After much nail-biting and texting my sister (an LPN) to let her know my children were dying, I made another appointment.  When I described the symptoms, they told me to come immediately and they had me wait with them in the hall.  My children had the plague.  Or leprosy. 

Hand foot mouth disease!  Do you know how many times I've seen this in my years as a preschool teacher?!  Yes, it was around their mouths and, yes, their hands too.  But the fever was so high and the rash was so bad and I'm such a worry wart that I was sure it was a tropical strain of the measles or something.  This is what Coen's leg looked like. 

 

 



   I've never seen that before.  He also had a secondary skin infection.  So add that to your database of childhood rash disease photos. 

In other news, we were waiting and waiting for a check to come in from some side work Christian did.  Waited for a week.  Watched the money leave the bank as bill after bill needed to be paid.  Watched as the gas gauge dipped closer to "E."  Watched the fridge get a little bit emptier each day.  Good thing I like to do cooking experiments cuz when certain ingredients are out of stock, we gotta make it up as we go!  Watched the mail, waiting and waiting.  I wish I could say I watched and prayed.  I wish I could be that lady in the picture that is calmly praying and perfectly believing.  I had moments.  Moments where I was sure that God, who has come through every time, would come through once again.  And then I had moments of panic.  Where my mind would run away on the what-if train, just knowing we were going to crash and burn.  Every hopeful, hurried trip to the mailbox ended with a worried trudge back to the house to announce, "No check." 

Finally on Friday, I made the call I had been dreading.  Not because I don't like who I'm calling.  I like her a lot, actually.  It was the kind of call that made me feel not so grown-up.  Not in control of my own destiny.  To admit I needed help.  I had to psyche myself up for this call.  That it was okay.  That God would forgive me for being so faithless.  I had held it together the whole week but IF that check didn't come, I wouldn't even be able to make a phone call come Saturday.  And in that moment I wasn't sure if he would come through.  I called my mommy.  Asked her and dad if we could borrow money with promises to pay it back.  Whenever the check came.  You know what I didn't do before I called her?  Check the mail.  We bought groceries as soon as the money was in the account and instead of checking the mail on the way back from the store I trudged in grateful for all the food I had to lug in but sad that I had not been able to hold it together.  Maybe it would be in the mail Saturday morning.  Maybe we'd have enough time.  The check was sitting in my mailbox that Friday afternoon. 

You know what I'm most grateful for?  The fact that God doesn't let me drown just because I lose faith.  He rescues me from my situation but also from my faithlessness about the situation.  And He restores it.  And I can feel stupid about what I did but He's ready to move on. 

The other reason this week was a little tough was this week marked not only the birthdays of my Grandma and Granddad Wilson but the death of my Granddad.  His funeral was actually one year ago today.  Which definitely mixes my emotions up having Aria's birthday today as well.  Her first birthday was met with a lot of tears so this was the first time she'd had a birthday party. 

I've heard lots of church music this week.  Christian won tickets to a Jimmy Needham concert.  If you haven't heard of him, he's pretty stinking awesome.  We had only heard him on the radio.  Nice songs, but hadn't thought much of it until we won the tickets.  Another person touring with him was Ross King.  You must know this guy.  I'm not saying you do, I'm saying you MUST!  His words blew me away.  I really liked "Hallelujah For the Cross."  You can tell he's not really one to do music videos but don't laugh.  Just listen to the words and close your eyes if you must. 

Anyway, in addition to that, I heard a lot of hymns, which are part of my DNA just about.  When you grow up falling asleep in a pew to these songs, they're kind of like a mile marker along your life journey.  Times when you had no idea what they meant and couldn't care less, times when you believed and were on fire, times when you finally realized what they meant.  Not to mention the times when you knew what they meant and didn't care. When times were simpler and I wasn't so tired.  I've been to all of those places.  I don't hear them as much as I used to anymore.  I suppose they are kind of uncool or irrelevant for some.  It was hard this week hearing them again because they remind me of my grandparents too.  I'm on the fence about them being made over.  Some that I have heard are great but I also feel like, "Don't you be messing with my hymns."  I know it's shallow.  After all, I'm not supposed to be worshipping a song or genre. 

I don't have a witty closing but to say, that was my week and I hope I have the energy come Monday morning to make it through a new one!  I have a terrible two year old on my hands, after all!  

Everyday

Well, nothing has settled down much, but everyone has their own personal circus.  We have another birthday coming this Sunday.  Aria will officially be terribly two.  We're currently trying to get over a bout of hand, foot, and mouth disease.  Coen has it the worst I have ever seen!  He has so many huge blisters that he's developed an infection.  Nice, I know.  You want a picture?  I'll spare you.  The thing is, I looked online to try and see what I could find out for myself knowing full well I would probably believe he was dying.  It didn't look like anything he hadn't already been vaccinated for before so, after checking with my LPN sister, we took him in. 

In other news, is there anything as a parent or teacher that you don't worry about?  If they are writing, I'm worried about their art.  If they do science, I worry they haven't built a block tower lately.  And as soon as they sit in front of the tv or play video games, I'm worried that their brains are shrinking by the second.  Oh, and then there's the great outdoors.  Every minute spent inside means they aren't making vitamin D and they'll be deficient.  Not to mention outside is awesome.  You know, if we didn't have this dog, I think we'd be outside a lot less.  I think I have too many of those days where I just don't want to go outside.  Which is silly, seeing as how I know that once I'm outside, my funky fog will lift and life will be awesome again.  That's how it is for me anyway.  I'm a professional worrier.  And eater.  And yes, I know they're related. 

I've cut down on coffee.  I haven't had any for the past two days.  I had some chai tea yesterday because I had to have something.  There's just something about actually making it to the point where I've brewed coffee and things are calm enough for me to pour myself a cup that makes me feel normal.  Like showering.  As long as I get a shower and my coffee, we won't go under.  My problem has been that when I make a pot of coffee, I usually end up drinking the whole thing.  Not good for my nerves, not good.  Especially since I'm high strung anyway!  So we'll see what I can do about moderation.  It's not really my strong suit. 

I've also started running again.  I've been struggling in that area too.  So many 5k's have come and gone that I just can't spend the money on.  And the one where I could have volunteered, we had a birthday shindig!  It's discouraging.  But I suppose if I really want to run, it shouldn't matter if it's in a race or not.  It would be nice to be able to run for a good cause and someday I will.  Maybe I'll have a bunch of racing shirts too!  Until then, I'll just burn away the miles.  I didn't buy these running shoes for nothing!

Well, that about sums it up.  Not much fluctuation in the level of crazy around here, just a different version depending on the day.  Perhaps that's why I haven't written much. 

Behold the Chiefs

Let's go back to September 30, 2013.  Not so long ago, but at the speed of life around here, it seems eons ago.  That day was...magical.  Like a fantasy, like I was on some sort of awesome drug that gave me a partial sunburn.  Christian and I went to see our first football game in real life. 

I guess the reason I haven't written about it is, honestly, I haven't figured out how to put it into words.  All week I was planned, packing (read: stressing), and wondering what it would be like.  the kids were going to spend the day with mom and dad and the cousins on Sunday so they were having an adventure of their own.  I remarked to Christian that this was the first time I had not been pregnant or nursing for our anniversary!  Yay for new chapters! 

We woke up at 4:30 in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of our eyes to make way for the wonders that would behold us.  After pit stops for gas, food, and picking up extra people, we were finally on our foggy way.  Seriously!  From the moment we set sail, all the way to KC, we drove through fog.  Even after the sun came up, it had a hard time burning away this blanket.  We passed over Truman Lake and you couldn't even see it!  But this helped with the wonder factor.  My husband will probably do a face palm but riding through the fog and emerging in Kansas City Sunday morning traffic was like...time warping through a portal into the land of Oz.  It's like when you take the ship or the griffin in WOW.  It was seriously science fiction stuff that I've totally messed up but that's what it was.  Other worldly indeed. 

From then on out I was wide eyed wondering what to expect.  We made our way to Arrowhead stadium as it was struggling to rise through the fog and grill smoke of the tailgaters who had been there...since sunup?  I don't know.  That was the biggest parking lot I'd ever seen.  You see it from the blimp on TV but you don't really believe it.  The party was already in full swing.  Block after block of tailgaters, as far as the eye could see.  The morning was crispy cold which was totally at odds with people already busy with making lunch at 8:00 am.  I was so unprepared.  I felt like I needed to take notes for next time.  I already knew there had to be a next time. 

We unloaded, set up the grill, and set to work making our camp.  We were an instant target for ridicule as our tour guide for the trip was a diehard Giants fan.  I wanted everyone to know I wasn't really "with" him as far as the Giants were concerned, but then it begged the question:  who was I with?  And here's the other reason I haven't shared the experience.  I am a fair weather fan.  A prodigal fan.  For years I cheered for the Chiefs, holding on through every loss, and nursing my broken heart after every game or playoff game that they almost won.  But didn't.  I was hurt, disillusioned.  Angry that I had cared so much about a stupid game to be disappointed so many times.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I stopped cheering when they won, even though I was happy, because I knew they would just lose again.  I didn't get my hopes up because it hurt too much. 

So when I saw them start to win, I tried to keep myself occupied.  They won the first game?  Good for them.  They could use a win.  2-0?  Well, just wait.  After this, it will probably just go downhill.  3-0.  I'm listening.  Listening to the buzz, the chatter.  Still guarded, still waiting.  For the other shoe to drop. 

When we packed up to head to the stadium the electricity turned up a notch.  The gravitational pull was unbearable and I wanted to run all the way there.  The smell of grills cooling down and fans revving up spurred us on.  For every heckler, there was a Giants fan willing to give my BIL a high five.  Some folks, who had already had an ample supply of alcohol that morning doled out hugs of encouragement. 

Once through security, which wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be, we wound our way up the staircase, wide-eyed and watching.  If you're a people watcher, it's a wonderland!  We found our seats and even though we were high up in a corner, I could see the game perfectly. 

The anticipation built until they sang the national anthem and the fireworks went off and it was on!  My phone died ten minutes into the game but it freed me to actually watch it.  People yelling for beer and water.  Making fun of each other's teams.  Trading stats like insults.  The wave!  It went all the way around the stadium!  And I did the Tomahawk Chop.  I was so excited for every positive thing that happened for the Chiefs but I held back.  Out of respect for "real fans"?  Respect for my BIL?  But Dexter McCluster.  He sold me  Running that kickoff back for a touchdown.  I almost didn't stand up, expecting, like most people, that he would be tackled in due time.  But there was no whistle.  We all started standing...screaming...taking a breath to scream some more...and he was in the end zone!  I jumped.  I screamed.  I lost my head.  Almost lost my voice.  I was sold.  So sad for my BIL but sold. 

I know.  I should be ashamed of myself for being unfaithful for all those years.  I am.  I never latched onto another team.  My husband is a Niners fan, so of course I want them to do well just so I don't have to live with a grump after the games...but...I was lost.  I've been rooting for them.  Saw the last game.  Don't know what I'll do when they play the Niners.  I guess the loser can sleep on the couch.

After the game I walked out on a cloud.  Just being there, adding the air of celebration.  People, drunk people, were running in the streets, more hugs and high fives.  I had had too much Dr. Pepper and not enough sleep so there was that delirium to add to it too.  The fumes of the experience followed us all the way home.  We beat the kids home and I sat on the steps waiting for them, daydreaming about the day that we could take them to experience something like what we had just been through. 

It was a once in a lifetime experience.  I certainly hope it will happen again but life will still be great even if I only have that one adventure enshrined in my memory.  Go Chiefs!

Mawage, Awh Mawage! (sic)

Well, I've spent most of this blessed naptime cleaning so we'll see just how much writing I get to do.  This past week was a whirlwind and this week isn't looking like much is going to settle.  Having an anniversary and birthday back to back is ridiculously exhausting but so much fun.  It's basically a weeklong celebration.  With our first child turning five, it was a pretty important birthday so it was easy for our anniversary to get pushed to the back burner.  Which made me think: how come anniversaries aren't more important?  Maybe I'm just not tech savvy enough but where's the notification on Facebook for someone's upcoming anniversary?  I mean, I get it, a marriage is between two people and it's a special, intimate time and no one has to throw rice for you every year but with all the marriages failing, maybe it's time we cared more about other peoples' marriages.

We all know how hard everyone says marriage is.  Heck, relationships in general can drive you crazy.  There are arguments in a marriage that you can't share, awkward funny moments that no one else will get, and, of course, the making up after the arguments!  But what we can share is encouragement!  The truth is, most of us got married in front of a group of people, maybe not a whole roomful, but there were people there celebrating the beginning of something wonderful.  Shouldn't we still be celebrating with them years later?  Does anyone have anniversary parties?  I know there are vow renewals and I guess that's the same thing. 

Just thinking, I suppose.  Maybe next year we'll have an anniversary party.  If I haven't nagged him to death by then ;) 

My Island Getaway

Journal entry from 9-16-12

"Sometimes I feel like only now am I really living, really getting to know you.  In the midst of all the financial issues, any issues, there is an island of peace that I share with You.  If I could visit more often, if I could stay.  I fill up my bags with your peace and hope and bring it back to the people around me, my world.  Hand it out and then head back to get more.  The more I come to You, the more I will have to give.  The freer I will be.  My past haunts me.  People asking if I still preach.  Sort of.  To my children, my husband.  Nothing so 'high and mighty' as a pulpit.  It's embarrassing that it ever happened and at the same time that it isn't still happening.  Not sure what to think, what you think about it, if it will ever happen again." 

This is what I found when I decided to see if I had an entry from last year.  It's been a year since we lost the house and moved into this apartment that's actually bigger!  A year since I let go.  A year of figuring out when to hold my breath and when to just breath.  Kind of like swimming.  Get those two mixed up and things get a little more difficult.  I would love to say I don't so much care about the preaching thing anymore.  I care less but it's still there.  I've lost or purposefully thrown away most of my notes.  Honestly, I feel like I'm learning everything all over again.  Like learning to walk again.  Getting a new heart, new legs, new attitude.  There is a lot I don't remember because of my massive stage fright.  There are the parts of the service before and after the sermon but in between is just a blank. 

Watching God move this year has been amazing.  I know he was moving all along but I feel like this year I was actually awake to see it.  I've been hanging out at my island getaway more often and I can tell because I can certainly tell when I've been away too long! 

The Message puts it like this in Deuteronomy 30:6, "God, your God, will cut away the thick calluses on your heart and your children's hearts, freeing you to love God, your God, with your whole heart and soul and live, really live."  This is what I feel is happening.  I'm finally letting him do the clearing away he needs to do to get me to a point where I can really live.  But I do know a thing or two about calluses.  I won't say much because they are gross and not a very popular topic but there is one thing:  they come back.  If you let them.  I used to believe that once "God had freed me," I could go on my merry way skipping down the yellow brick road and I'll talk to him again when I have another problem.  No, I know that the calluses come back and build up over time and experience and keep us from living, really living time and again. 

This is something I'm working on.  To stay close enough to the One who wants to work on my heart continuously, not so that I can be perfect, or "better than", but so that I can live, really live. 

 

The Scarlet Letter

The world.  In John 16:33 Jesus says he has overcome it.  That we can overcome it too.  But what exactly are we talking about?  Growing up I believed "the world" was all the bad people out there who were mean to me.  All the people that didn't know Jesus and so were destined to a life of depravity and craziness.  Little did I know how crazy a person can be and still love Jesus, but I'll save that for my autobiography some day!  Honestly though, it's easy to believe that all the stuff we need to overcome is "out there", is because of someone else's problem.  I mean, I'm not interested in overcoming the whole world when so few people have an effect of my life in the first place.  I also don't believe I can effect the whole world. 

But if I were to boil it down to a world that only effected me I could see how much my action, or inaction of late, matters.  If I made a list of all the people my life effects, it may not be the entire world, but it's a pretty long list.  Every day the list gets longer, too.  Now, I'm not about to have a list competition to see whose is longer and how effective you are but it's just a thought I've been having.  If I'm not fighting the "evil people" out there, what exactly am I supposed to overcome?  There's another list for you.  Homelessness, poverty, disease, loneliness, hunger, the list of things that plague our world, just here in a 10 mile radius, goes on and on.  But nothing on that list is going to get crossed off if I don't first deal with a huge scarlet letter that I've been dealing with for much too long. 

Apathy.  Even as I write this I want to deny it.  "It's not that I don't care," I begin.  "It's just..."  What?  Sometimes I go with the I'm Too Busy response.  Sometimes it hurts to care.  I'd love to hear about your sad story but it makes me sad so I think I'll change the channel.  And the truth is, most of the time I do care but I don't know what to do or I realize my caring should lead to action and that's where sometimes I'd rather just offer up excuses.     

Let me be clear.  I'm not trying to punch your ticket for a guilt trip.  I'm just thinking.  Maybe there are other reasons.  Maybe I'm being too hard on myself.  I know I'm good at that.  I do believe apathy is sneaky.  I believe you can be ridiculously passionate about some things and have a blind spot when it comes to others.  It's easy to center your life around a certain purpose and forget all about the fact that there are a whole group of people you don't even see.  But even more than that, what good is amazing grace if, once blind, now seeing, I still do nothing?  Lord have mercy on me, a passionless, apathetic sinner! 

Why Can't "Our Daily Bread" Be Chocolate?

It's ten minutes until my self-imposed bedtime but I wish I had been in bed at least a half an hour ago.  My contacts gummed up so if there are a bunch of typos, it's because I can't see them.  I'm also listening to my husband argue football in the background so if I start writing what I hear, this could get interesting.  I can not wait for fall.  We had a cold spell a couple of weeks ago and overnight temps dipped into the 50's.  It gave me a taste of my favorite season and I cannot wait for it to get here!  I'm going to miss the swimming and the sun but these 90 degree temps are not exactly motivating for getting out and running. 

I've been dealing with back problems, neck problems, and now my knees ache.  I'm feeling very old.  I finally feel thirty-something.  I think it's too much sugar.  With my back killing me I know it was one of the things I turned to and I'm paying the price for it.  I need to do a detox but I really don't know if I have the will power.  My idea of detox is not having chocolate for breakfast!  I have been holding back on the coffee though.  I can easily put away about 3-4 cups.  I'm sure that's part of my sleeping issues.  I guess the one thing I am doing right is trying to get better?  At least, sometimes, it seems like I'm trying.  And then I look at the laundry and just grab another piece of chocolate! 

If only God's word were as tangible.  I mean, if I could really take a bite of that daily bread whenever I'm stressed.  Sometimes it feels real.  Sometimes I walk away from my devotions and I am full.  I want for nothing.  I get what I read and it really soaks in and satisfies and then there are the other days.  It's like pulling up to the table and expecting bacon and eggs and all I get is toast.  Slightly burnt.  With no butter.  I try to make it make sense and I try to "get it" but I walk away thirstier.  Does that ever happen to you?  On those days, I sometimes give up and get frustrated but it's always there.  The page with today's date on it but nothing written.  I come back the next day, and the next.  And maybe it takes a while but I can't just skip that part cuz it's all important. 

Maybe it doesn't make sense because I've already shut down.  Sorry God, I'm not in the mood to talk or learn today.  It is good that we serve a God willing to sit with us in those times.  The silent times when we don't feel like talking or even know what to say.  Maybe tomorrow we'll be more inspired.  Not that we are ungrateful.  Some days there is no victory dance, just a sigh of relief that we made it one more day! 

P.S.  I don't want you to think that I had a bad day.  Today was actually awesome.  We went to my mom and dad's house which is always fun and exhausting.  And I will be very grateful to drag myself into bed!  I'm much too tired for a victory dance tonight!

Back At It

I am going to try and run tonight.  I feel like I'm starting all over again.  My back has felt normal today.  I'm taking turns between feeling grateful and looking over my shoulder to see if I'm going to get knocked down again.  I finally went to the chiropractor last night.  We couldn't afford it but I couldn't afford to be in constant pain any longer either.  The chiro said my back was pretty much a brick wall.  He kept feeling it and saying things like "Oh man!" and "Oh my goodness!".  Evidently I have a neck injury from all my car wrecks that makes my back act up. 

But today feels better and so I want to get back out there.  Even if it's only for a mile.  I have to do something.  It's my antidepressant and I've been prowling around the house eating everything in sight as an alternative.  Let me just say I will be taking about a half gallon of ice cream and I don't know how many pounds of chocolate on my run with me tonight.  Not proud of it but may it melt off quickly in this heat!

My neck, my back...

Writing from my phone in bed because sitting in a chair is too painful right now. It's been a long day and I wish I could say I handled it like a trooper but I probably yelled at the kids more than I should have. We ended up having pancakes for supper, which everyone loved, thankfully.

My amazing husband biked home from work today. Halfway anyway. He forgot his water bottle!  It was amazing to be able to track his progress with a little iPhone tracker app I found. The kids were excited to look for daddy on the map, a little green moving dot!  We all got in on the action when he called for us to pick him up and we had to "hunt" for him and rescue him. 

Not quite sure what's causing my back issues. Maybe my lack of real running. I haven't been on much of a schedule ever since I hurt my back the first time and the dog got fixed. He can't run so I don't usually get out in the mornings to run without him. I can't feel like this though. I told Christian I feel like an elephant with old teeth whose days are numbered.  Okay so I'm a little dramatic but really. I'm done feeling so slow and helpless and miserable. I'm going to go to bed and hope some prayer and rest will help my outlook. Oh and today of all days I decided to skip coffee. That's probably my problem. My whole body is in rebellion until I give it what it wants. Lol!  If only coffee were a miracle cure. And chocolate. I'd live to 100 at least!  

A Lead Foot in a Construction Site

How do you know if you're in a rut or a routine?  What's the difference and how can I tell?  Perception.  A routine only becomes a rut when you feel stuck.  When you feel like your routine is leading you somewhere you don't wish to go.  The difference between a rut and a well-worn path depends on whether or not you feel like it's something to be avoided.  Something that will cause you damage. 

I guess that's where I've been lately.  Trying to figure out if I'm in a rut.  A spiritual rut.  Lord knows my routine has been thrown for a loop with the dog and being sick and my back falling apart.  No, no routine here.  So what's with this feeling?    I mean it kind of seems like a no brainer.  Either you're in a rut or you're not.  But just because I might be somewhere I don't want to be doesn't mean I need to try to get out.  It doesn't mean I'm in a rut or stuck at all. 

God promises in Isaiah 42:16, "I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth."  I don't have any answers yet.  But I have this verse.  And things right now are rocky and uncertain and there are moments when I feel face down in a puddle of rut water.  I'm not exactly sure what will cure this unrest I have.  Especially since I've been told to rest.  By scripture, my doctor, my back.  I only know I'm waiting for God to make the rough places smooth.  Maybe I should stop and wait for him to fix the road ahead and stop spinning my wheels and going nowhere.  There are all these verses about running the race and I know them all.  But I'm not sprinting anymore.  I'm in this race for the long haul and maybe it's okay sometimes to stop at a water station and catch my breath for a second. 

But the to-do list must be crossed off!  You must end each day with a list of things you've accomplished!  Keep on keepin on and God helps those who helps themselves!  There is a lot of jibber jabber in my ear about how much I should not rest.  I must never give off the stench of laziness.  Idle hands are the devil's playground.  But there is a whisper of a voice telling me to be still.  I wonder if I can convince my husband that Jesus told me not to do the dishes!  Take a moment, take a breath, and wait.  The path God is preparing still has some potholes in it that he's working on.  I'll get there when I get there.  That's tough to hear for a lead foot like me ;)     

We Interrupt Your Normal Life To Bring You...A Dog

This past week was a blur for us.  What was supposed to be a one night deal may have turned into a life changing event.  We currently have a dog living with us.  He's a stray and he's a beautiful sweet husky.  My brother-in-law found him coming out of the woods near our apartments and I offered to let the dog stay with us for the night instead of by himself in an empty apartment.  He was supposed to go live with my mom and dad while we tracked down the owners. 

That was a week ago.  I've searched every online lost and found board I can think of and nothing has happened.  With every lead I chase, I hold my breath and hope it doesn't pan out.  But I keep looking because anyone with a dog this sweet would surely want him back, right?  Maybe they know something about him we don't.  Maybe they're bad people.  I don't know.  All I know is I haven't been this sleep deprived and happy since our last baby was born.  I'm holding back my heart though because if his owners show up and I have to surrender him, I'll cry for days.  That statement right there lets me know there's not much of my heart left to hold back. 

We have called him Max.  My husband says it's short for "Maximus Prime."  I'm sticking with Max from "Where the Wild Things Are."  I don't know if this is a good idea.  I don't know how long he will be with us or how long we can handle it.  I know we're blessed though.  I know that as tired as I am, he has woken me up. 

I've been making a list since my last blog of all the blessings we've received.  From free clothes to free dog treats, the grill, the house cleaning, the babysitting, the dogsitting, the list goes on and on.  I know there is no way I can equal what has been given to us but that's not the point anyway. 

Even in the midst of all these blessings bad things have happened.  Thankfully things turned out okay.  Coen has been to the ER two Mondays in a row.  He's still alive.  He cut his knee but didn't need stitches and he swallowed a magnet but it's smaller than the quarter he swallowed so everything should come out just fine :)  Now I'm just waiting for the dog to eat something. 

My running has suffered.  Even though I have new shoes.  Yay!  Running with a dog is an exercise in staying upright.  I have fallen once.  Not fun but I have always been afraid that I would fall while I was running.  I'm kind of clumsy.  Well, I finally fell so I can cross that off my list of things to be afraid of.  If my goal is a half marathon I have a long way to go. 

The kids love him.  Coen is an animal person.  Max brings out the calm in him.  Aria is fascinated by the way his ears move and Tobin is thrilled to finally have a dog of his own.  We're working on getting shots and a crate this week.  Our normal may have forever changed. 

Cheesy Sweet Heat Cornbread

So recently I have started going through my Pinterest pins and trying to actually make some of the hundreds of recipes I have pinned.  What a concept, huh?  I planned recently to make skillet focaccia but as soon as I lifted out my grandma's cast iron skillet I had to make cornbread instead. 

I love making cornbread.  I love it because making it and sneaking fingerfuls of batter that drip off the spoon is almost more fun than eating it after it's done.  I could seriously go on a batter bender, I'm one of those people.  I remember begging my mom to let me make the cornbread just so I could get at that sweet stuff.  Oh yeah, we make sweet cornbread.  Really, you could have it with your dinner or have it for dessert.  Or both, like me!  I was never much for the kitchen growing up.  I'd rather be in a tree.  So the fact that I would come running to help with cornbread sticks out in my mind. 

I asked my mom where she got the recipe.  I was expecting, "Joy of Cooking," or "Taste of Home," maybe even "Southern Living."  I laughed when I heard, "Missouri Conservation cookbook."  Of all the places to find some ridiculously good food!  Just goes to show, I guess.  Maybe I should start clipping out recipes from the paper like grandma.  Never know what you will find.  But then, I have Pinterest. 

Also, I can't leave well enough alone so I added a few things.  Cheese, onions, and smoked chipotle chili powder, my new love.  You're welcome.  

Alright, enough talk.  Let's cook!

Preheat your oven to 425.  Depending on how fast you can mix stuff at some point you will need to add a tablespoon or two of oil to the cast iron skillet and let it heat up in the oven before you pour the batter in.  Get the oil hot but don't let it smoke, 5 minutes is a safe bet. 
Then combine in a bowl
1 cup cornmeal
1 cup flour
1/2 cup white sugar (I actually did less than this and I couldn't even tell!)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp smoked chipotle powder (or more if you love heat.  My kids at this bread too)
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (or whatever cheese tickles your fancy)
This is where it gets tricky and you have to make sure you read the whole recipe!  In a two cup or larger liquid measuring cup, add 1/2 cup oil.  Add 2 eggs.  Then fill to the 2 cup line with milk.  Mix this all together and add it to the dry ingredients. 
At this point you will also want to add 1/2 of a grated onion.  I'd say it was probably 1/4-1/2 a cup.  I grated it on the cheese grater so that it would "melt" into the cornbread.  Otherwise it would have been a turnoff for the hubs.  It amps up the moistness and the house smelled great while this was cooking! 
Throw all this in the skillet that you've taken out of the oven (unless you forgot about it and had to go fan the smoke alarm, been there!).  Bake for 15 minutes or until the sides begin to brown and crisp and a toothpick comes out mostly clean when you stick it in the middle.  Remember, it will continue to cook a little after you take it out of the oven. 
When it's cool enough to touch but still hot enough to give you a pizza burn, cut that sucker up, put some butter on it, throw it in a bowl of chili, whatever!  Eat it!  And that's what I call Cheesy Sweet Heat Cornbread.  Thanks mom! 

My Magnified Funk

My last post was some time ago and it was about pizza.  I was contemplating writing about cornbread because I made a really good batch with my mom's recipe and maybe someday I will but I can't do it now.  I haven't written much because there was so much on my heart that I was afraid writing wouldn't fix it.  I was afraid that even after I wrote it out, it wouldn't be clear to me or you.  And maybe it's not clear now but I have to try to unravel things. 

We are starting over at a new church.  The uncertainty of change is not my friend.  Deep down I know this change is good, it's where God wants us to be.  Not that where we were was bad but it was like...well, it was time to go.  It wasn't like a shoe that didn't fit.  It wasn't like an old shirt with too many holes.  More than anything, maybe it was just us. 

Which brings another fear to mind: if I am the "problem," maybe we should just drop out altogether.  I mean, I could have the mentality of "it's not you, it's me," but if it's me, do I really want to inflict myself on some other church?  There is a brokenness that cannot heal in isolation. 

This battle has waged war in my mind for the last two weeks.  Am I worth another shot at church?  Sometimes I feel like I have so much to offer and sometimes I feel so broken that it's like people would just be carrying my casket around with them.  These are things I haven't wanted to write about because I haven't wanted to bring anyone else down.  I didn't want anyone to join in on my personal pity party (sorry for the alliteration) and I was so tired of myself and looking at myself and being sad about what I see. 

A pretty pathetic place (there it is again!) to be.  I knew what I was doing.  I was making my problems bigger than they were.  Of course, at the time I thought they really were that big of a problem.  I was magnifying my problems.  Zeroing in on myself and yada yada yada until I and my shortcomings was all I could see. 

Which brings me to Psalms 34.  It was the still small voice that I needed in the midst of all the chaos.  "Magnify the Lord..." 
Please leave your problems alone and magnify the Lord.  Make him so big that He is the only thing you can see.  It took some looking because it's not in the Message or the NIV or any of the other versions that have come out that I know of so I had to look backwards.  To the King James Version.  Inaccurate and flowery I know but bear with me.  It's what I remember while doing a stint in the Baptist church. 
Psalms 34:3 says "Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together." 
Honestly the whole psalm is a gold mine of encouragement if you're having an insecure day.  One of those days where you or others around you are just focused on how rotten life is and you can't get out of it. 

Psalm 34

New King James Version (NKJV)

The Happiness of Those Who Trust in God

A Psalm of David when he pretended madness before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he departed.

34 I will bless the Lord at all times;
His praise shall continually be in my mouth.
² My soul shall make its boast in the Lord;
The humble shall hear of it and be glad.
³ Oh, magnify the Lord with me,
And let us exalt His name together.

⁴ I sought the Lord, and He heard me,
And delivered me from all my fears.
⁵ They looked to Him and were radiant,
And their faces were not ashamed.
⁶ This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him,
And saved him out of all his troubles.
⁷ The angel^[a] of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him,
And delivers them.

⁸ Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!
⁹ Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints!
There is no want to those who fear Him.
¹⁰ The young lions lack and suffer hunger;
But those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing.

¹¹ Come, you children, listen to me;
I will teach you the fear of the Lord.
¹² Who is the man who desires life,
And loves many days, that he may see good?
¹³ Keep your tongue from evil,
And your lips from speaking deceit.
¹⁴ Depart from evil and do good;
Seek peace and pursue it.

¹⁵ The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous,
And His ears are open to their cry.
¹⁶ The face of the Lord is against those who do evil,
To cut off the remembrance of them from the earth.

¹⁷ The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears,
And delivers them out of all their troubles.
¹⁸ The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
And saves such as have a contrite spirit.

¹⁹ Many are the afflictions of the righteous,
But the Lord delivers him out of them all.
²⁰ He guards all his bones;
Not one of them is broken.
²¹ Evil shall slay the wicked,
And those who hate the righteous shall be condemned.
²² The Lord redeems the soul of His servants,
And none of those who trust in Him shall be condemned.

 

Got this from www.biblegateway.com.  Again, not trying to push NKJV on you.  It just had the word magnify in it.  I'm going to try to remember the next time I'm in a funk.  And if you see me in one and you remind me that I wrote this, I will try not to be snarky but humble enough to take my own forgotten advice. 

Pizza Night!

We love pizza around here.  It took me so long to find a recipe that my husband and I could agree on.  He's from the East coast where evidently they make "real" pizza.  The best pizza I've ever tasted was from a gas station up on Jefferson and Kimbrough that has since closed down.  It was operated by a Middle Eastern couple who churned our this pizza that was thin and foldy and had the charred little bubbles of cheese and Christian and I spent many an engaged afternoon splitting a pizza on our lunch breaks. 

The other problem we had was our affinity for delivery pizza.  It was really a love/hate relationship because the fat and salt was soooo bad for us.  When I was pregnant I would wake up the next morning swollen so that my skin was tight over my knuckles!  Not worth it! 

So I've been experimenting and we finally have a pizza we love.  I'm sorry if you love deep dish pizza because this is not that kind of recipe.  To cut down on the carbs, we've switched to a thin crust.  I've tried to sneak in whole wheat flour or ground flax seed and he catches me every time! 

Here's the recipe:

3 cups of all purpose flour
2tsp salt
2tsp active dry yeast (or one packet)
2tsp sugar
1 cup warm water (slightly warmer than body temp)
2 tbsp. olive oil

Throw the flour and salt into a big mixing bowl.  In a measuring cup, put your water, yeast and sugar.  Stir it up and let it sit for 5-10 minutes.  Add the oil.  Then pour it all into your mixing bowl and combine everything until mixed together.  Knead the dough for about five minutes and add more flour if you need to so that the whole glob doesn't stick to your hands.  It's possible, depending on the humidity, that you may need to add a half cup more of flour. 

Cover the dough with a little olive oil and a towel or plastic wrap and let the dough rise for about an hour or until it doubles in size.  Find a warm place.  My best idea is putting it an empty dishwasher and turning on the drying cycle.

Once the dough is done rising, turn the oven on 425.  Coat your pizza trays with a little oil to help spread them out.  If you have a pizza stone, you rock.  I'm jealous.  Once the dough is spread out top it with whatever you want and pop it in the oven for 10-15 minutes.  Yum!

Another thing I discovered this week was cooking pizza on the griddle.  We've cooked it on a grill before but this was an alternative we tried to keep from heating up the oven. 

 

Tobin took this picture and helped me top the pizza.  We stretched it out on the pizza pan and then lightly brushed the griddle with oil, heating it to 350.  After transferring (very quickly and luckily, I might add) the dough from the pan to the griddle, I let it cook for about 5 minutes, just until it started to get golden on the underside.  Then we flipped it, topped it and laid the pizza pan, or in our case, a cookie sheet, over the top so the cheese would melt.  Again 5 minutes or so, lift off the pan, and voila!  Pizza without heating up the oven and the whole house!  There's no reason to go without pizza or spend a lot of money on delivery and eat all the salt and fat you don't need.  Of course, that's if you can resist the fact that it just tastes good.  My husband said he actually liked this method better than cooking it in the oven!  Hope it works for you! 

This I Know

Whenever thoughts swirl in my head uncontrollably, whenever they're about to consume me, whether it's doubt, fear, anger, I have to pin them down with what I know to be true. 

I know God is able. 
I know God has enough grace for me. 
If the choices I make lead me down a wrong path, I know God is patient and can lead me--albeit the long way--home. 
I know that no matter how screwed up and hard-hearted life has made me, God can still soften me.  He still has a plan and a purpose. 
He can use me in spite of all that, but more awesomely, because of all that.

I like to make lists and sometimes I have to make lists like this.  To remind myself of what matters and what is true. 

There have been many distractions this past week.  Much anxiety and depression and not a lot of running so my head has been quite stuffy with runaway thoughts.  My runs have become prayer runs.  I've gotten past the point of needing to mentally coach myself to the next light post so I have to keep my mind occupied or else I'll quit before my legs and lungs are tired.  Which is a great problem to have, might I add.  So I have prayer runs now.  I pick five or so things or people to pray about and go out and get 'er done.  If it's possible, it makes running more peaceful.  It's not like I can sing and run at the same time anyway!   And even though it's "me time", I still get to spend it on other people at the same time.  Multitasking, yeah baby!

Stick to what is true.  Leave the doctrine and the opinions and the anger behind and read the red letters. 

Unplug me!

Every morning I ask my kids if they had any dreams.  We always make time for dream talk during morning snuggles or breakfast.  Today my son told me a dream that was way too real for me.  He told me about how there was a tornado coming and he was trying to get my attention but I wasn't listening.  His words were, "You were too busy because...you were on your phone."  Nobody wins mother of the year for being on their phone too much.  It's not like I was helping clients or closing deals or doing anything that could help our family.  Sure, I look up events and find grocery deals and coupons but that's not the point. 

I've been sucked into a handheld world.  But it doesn't really matter what screen size you use.  The tv screen, the computer screen.  I bark at my husband for gaming but I'm raising dragons and following people on Facebook that I won't speak to until the second coming.  I grew up thinking-knowing!-video games are bad.  I played on the computer though.  And I'll never forget the first time I played World of Warcraft.  If you watch Big Bang Theory you may remember the episode where Sheldon introduces Penny to WOW.  That was me.  Christian got my account all set up and I made a character and was whisked away into an imaginary wonderland the size of a computer screen.  I didn't surface for 24 hours.  I did not eat, I hardly drank anything.  I played through the night and ended up making myself sick! 

Fast forward 6 years later.  I don't play WOW simply because I know what I would do and I have kids to keep alive, let alone myself.  It's in my retirement plan.  To travel the world...of warcraft.  Really, I do want to travel so we'll see how much WOW I actually get to play.  Technology will be so advanced by then we'll probably travel to Mars for a weekend to play it for real.  Like futuristic paintball.  Hmmm...

I digress.  Now I have a husband who is an unrepentant gamer and, honestly, as long as he keeps it in check there's nothing wrong with it.  We have also spawned a small 4-year-old gamer and while part of me wants to tell you how awesome he is at it, another part wants to unplug the whole darn contraption and run him outside.  I have books on how children should be outside.  I have a degree that screams "His brain is going to turn to mush!"  Not to mention the majority (it seems) of Christians that have deemed it sinful.  (They do go outside every day but I wonder at the quality and quantity of it.  We went firefly hunting last night!)   

There has to be a middle ground though.  Because Tobin is amazing at games.  I tried to play Rayman with him and he pretty much played the whole thing by himself and just kept resurrecting me so that I could be with him.  I have looked around at different articles, so many and it all comes down to balance.  It is more interactive than tv.  Games require problem solving skills and fine motor coordination that he could use one day to be a surgeon or musician.  The one thing I could watch out for is if your son has ADHD.  I've read that it can become very addicting.  The instant rewards, the dopamine release.  It hooks them and they become obsessed with the cycle.  And no kid needs to sit in one spot for a long period of time anyway.  It's tempting to plop them in front of the tv to get something done, believe me, I know. 

We've made a deal in my house though.  For every 20 minutes of game play, there are 20 minutes of outside time or reading or art.  And of course, once I get them outside it's always longer than 20 minutes.  And who wants to quit five minutes into an art project?  So we're making it work.  This isn't the way I was raised so it took me some time to figure out a way to live with it.  I can't just get rid of it all.  Games are everywhere.  Oh, we also monitor them for all that scary inappropriate stuff so really he only gets to play minecraft and Rayman at the moment.  No gory stuff.  I guess I should be grateful that Coen hasn't figured out how to play yet. 

All this is great for the kids but how do I limit myself?  How do I unshrink my world?  I think it's something that I turn to when I'm bored.  Today I made the choice to go to story time at the library and the kids loved it.  The got to dig for "fossils" in their chocolate chip cookies.  The theme was dinosaurs.  Honestly, if I get any more hobbies, I might go broke.  I know I have to unplug, though.  Focus on life around me and enjoy it to the fullest.  Tobin will be gone to school before I know it. 

If the screen is a temptation for you, how do you limit yourself?  A reward system?  Sheer willpower?  Have you added up the time you spend on it?  I'm kind of afraid to. 

Stay Salty, My Friends

I don't want to be Lot's wife.  I don't want to be so focused on the wrong things that my heart turns to salt because if my heart goes, the rest of my body might as well.  I've been troubled and struggling lately, trying to figure out my role as a Christian in my personal life and at church.  I think it's a classic case of trying to see too far ahead.  I like to know the plan, know how things play out.  Often times I just want God to show me the map but I know if I took a look at it, I'd still get myself turned around and going in the wrong direction.  His voice would keep saying "rerouting", or "make a U-turn here" and knowing me I probably wouldn't listen.  "I got it, I got it" but we both know it's just a matter of time till I have to give up and hand the mess I've made over to him again. 

What if I'm already stone and don't even know it?  I don't know how this story will play out.  I mean is it a Job story where God restores even more or is it a Saul story where Saul goes crazy and eats grass and tries to kill David?  What if the walls of my heart are rising and calcifying and I don't even know it?  What if the walls of the church are rising too?  Will I notice?  Or will I just be a frog in a pot of water minding my own business until I'm someone else's meal? 

Hence paragraph one.  As long as I'm focusing on the what if's in life I can't go forward.  I can't focus on the next thing God has for me.  Blurg.  And while we're focusing, let's zoom in on all the I's and me's in this blog.  Enough.  Jesus said in Matthew 5:13 "You are the salt of the earth.  But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?  It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men."

So here's the deal, even if I do focus on the wrong things and turn into a pillar of salt God can still use me.  I still get to be the salt of the earth.  Ha!  I know I might be reaching a little bit but I'm just saying God can handle a wrong turn.   Or two or three so I need to stop freaking out and get on with life.  And if Jesus is living water and I'm salt...working out...electrolytes...balance.  There's something there I just know it!    

Sleep Blogging

Sorry I haven't written in so long.  It's not that my fingers haven't been itchy, just that I'm in Nebraska!  Visiting family for the holiday weekend and such.  I'm exhausted.  I've averaged about six hours of sleep and for me that's just not enough.  I'm not even sure I'll remember I blogged.  I tried to go running yesterday and it was so sad.  I wanted to run in a new place but the wind and lack of sleep won out and I only got 1.5 miles done.  But now I can say I ran in Nebraska!  And on vacation no less.  I've actually missed blogging an awful lot but it's been great to spend time with everyone.  My newest niece is perfectly squishy!  And the playground here is unlike anything I've ever seen!  It's amazing! 

 

 

It's like a ropes course for kids!  And this is only one of them.  It's an elementary school so it has three different playgrounds including a wheelchair accessible that has an activity for learning braille!  Oh the problem solving possibilities!  Honestly, I'd love to get into playground design but I don't even know if I could dream up something like this.  Coen was convinced he was Spiderman, and he might as well be.  We found mulberries to eat and caught lightning bugs and watched fireworks.  All in less than 60% humidity! 

 

But in my heart what I really want to say is thank you.  Thank you for taking the time out to read this.  Thank you because if you are reading this, I'm pretty sure you've touched my life in a way I can never repay.  Sometimes that bothers me because I get caught up in a horrible game of "Even Stevens", but I know it's just a lie trying to distract me from the truth.  The truth is that I have to let the seeds other people have planted in my life grow in gratitude into fruit for others.  I can't just stop at "thank you".  I have to turn the soil and make those gifts to me gifts for someone else.  And they only grow in gratitude.  We are up here in Nebraska because of my in-laws generosity.  We made it up here on my parent's generosity.  And it has been great to see family but I've got some giving to do.  And not to win the "Even Stevens" game but because it would be a shame for these gifts to go unused.  To let them get burned up in the garbage heap instead of using them to grow a new crop of gifts.  

 

Sorry about all the farming metaphors.  It's Nebraska people!  There is a field of corn in between the houses in town.  I was running and I saw house, corn, house, corn.  Odd.  Oh and Omaha is huge.  I've only seen it from a distance and I kinda want to stay at a distance cuz I don't know if I'll find my way out! 

 

I hope everyone had a fun and safe 4th and maybe next time I write I'll be fully awake!

 

  

 

The Bills, The Way, The Truth, The Life

This has been such a loooong weekend and it's only Saturday night!  Friday night we "camped out" at my parents' house and the kids could not have been happier.  We rented their tent and did a trial camping trip in the back yard, complete with a campfire and stories.  The only picture I have is from the fireworks we went to see that night. 

Someone is always wearing a superhero cape.  Which is good, because I regularly need a hero.  We never got around to making s'mores, though, which is horrible, I know.  They got to feed watermelon rinds to a couple of deer this morning and ride on grandpa's lawnmower.  That will have to work.  We ended Friday night with an attempt to pop popcorn over the fire.  Tobin suggested we just put it in the fire.  It was a little overdone!  For a bedtime story, I told them the tale of Arthur and the Sword in the Stone.  I hope I wasn't too far off base.  I've only had it told to me and I've never read the book.  The kids liked it anyhow and we'll have to look for the book at the library.  It felt great to unplug for a while.  Time doesn't matter and the world seems so much bigger when you get out to where you can actually see the stars.  Aria was mesmerized every time she looked up. 

All of it was magical and wonderful and I'm so grateful to my parents for letting us noise up the place but this post is about what happened Friday afternoon.  Well, many Friday afternoons.  Every other Friday is payday.  Like so many people, payday begins with lots of money but by Friday night, most of it is already spent or at least committed to a bill of some sort.  We fit into that group.  On the Fridays we don't get paid, I spend that Friday figuring out how to make it to the next Friday.  We spent a whole week recently with only $4 in the bank.  I am not complaining!  I am amazed. 

I shouldn't be amazed.  God does it all the time but every Friday I have to calm myself down after freaking out about the fact that we owe more than we can pay.  This past Friday was no exception.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I love to pay the bills when the math works out.  I'll whistle while I write the checks and I was on Friday too until I double checked my math.  It was one of those Fridays.  One of those where you pray that the math is wrong.  I usually have to triple check mine anyway cuz my math skills were never good but I check over and over.  I then begin to play the "Who can I pay late" game.  Seeing as how we wouldn't have any money for late fees, that option quickly flew out the window.  I could feel the familiar numbness in my palms and my heart palpitating from the combination of too much coffee and worry and not enough confidence.  I sent my husband a bunch of rapid fire texts about how tight we would be on money and warned him against even using the dollar menu when he forgets his lunch.  Hope you can bike to work soon cuz we won't have any gas money.  Lots of cheerful things that he needed to hear right in the middle of his workday.  That was my pressure valve.  I turned on the tv in hopes that I could tune out the worry and fear but no luck.  How in the world were we going to pay the bills?  Where would we get the money?   

I probably only spent ten minutes in this mind frame but it was too long.  I hopped up off the couch and turned to where I knew I could get a break from the noise in my head.  I opened my journal, prepared to write.  But God stayed my hand.  He wanted me to read, not write.  Listen, not speak.  The verse in my journal was a well worn one. 

Jesus answered, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light.  No one comes to the Father except through Me." (John 14:6)

Now I've been a Christian for a long time.  These are the verses that I learned in elementary school.  The ones that are underlined and circled and memorized and put on notecards when I hear them over and over my eyes tend to glaze over a bit, which is sad.  So sad.  The thing that is supposed to give me life puts me to sleep.  I saw this verse and my eyes didn't glaze over but I did just think "Yup" and was about to close the book.  But God wanted me to read and listen.  So I listened for once and opened my Bible to John 14.  Most of the letters were in red so that was a good sign. 

You see, the part in the verse that I always forget to memorize is "Jesus answered."  He wasn't just spouting wisdom from a hillside this time.  He was having a conversation with someone.  Someone had asked him a question. 

Verse 5-Thomas said to him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" 

I love Thomas.  Maybe he was a doubter.  Maybe a worrier or maybe he was a realist.  "Sure Jesus.  You're just going to float away on some cloud and we're-what?-supposed to catch the next chariot that swings low?  Right."  But he's there and he asks the questions that so many times I ask.  Be real with me God, how is this going to happen?  Be real to me, be with me. 

And he simply answers, "I  am the Way.  I am the truth.  Not the voices in your head that make you think this isn't possible.  The only way you're going to get to where you need to go is through me."  And I know that it works for salvation but sometimes it is so easy to forget when we're just talking about laundry and groceries.  It makes me tear up to think that a God so huge and super-duper cares about the light bill too.  And what makes me feel silly is that it's not like I haven't heard all this stuff before.  I blame my memory loss on the kids.  Oh that I could!  I was a worry-wart long before they came along. 

Christian got a call Friday night saying a client had a check for him.  A check we were previously told wasn't coming because they were declaring bankruptcy.  I wish I could say I skipped over the meltdown part and went right to singing hymns and stuff but I'm not there yet, don't know if I'll ever be.  But I know the Lord will make a way because He is the Way!  Looks good on paper, now if I can just live it!  Have a great rest of your weekend! 

Adventures in Polenta-land

So in my quest for better health of course I've tried to make changes to our diet.  My husband and I are completely different builds.  I can eat the whole cookie jar and gain maybe a pound and if he happens to walk by it, pounds enter his body by osmosis or radiation.  I know, though, that the worst damage is inside.  I'm not exercising to get a thigh gap but to prevent a heart attack brought on by one too many bacon cheeseburgers and being a type A super-stressed maniac.  I mean, hey, I'm not gonna complain if a thigh gap just happens to show up after all this working out but if I have muscle instead, I'll take that. 

We've been helped a lot by our lack of extra money.  Eating out happens very rarely.  My husband is trying to take more lunches from home.  The kids eat most of the leftovers though!  I'm refusing to fry anything even though I luuuuuv fried chicken.  My newest challenge may be finding cheap, gluten-free alternatives for my husband to eat.  I have never really had a problem with it but we're thinking it affects him a lot.  Just experimenting so far.  But I also know that I feel horrible after eating things that are low in fiber like rice.  Not to mention all the things that change in the headlines every day about what will and won't kill us. 

Which is why I decided to make polenta tonight.  Here is the original recipe I used.  It's from Lidia Bastianich on PBS.  I had to make a half recipe once I realized how little corn meal I actually had.  I tweaked it a little too.  I added about a teaspoon of garlic pepper and just enough pepper to know it was in there.  Maybe a 1/4 a teaspoon.  I also added half a cup of parmesan cheese because if there's one thing that will make a new recipe gain approval, it's adding cheese!

Polenta

4 cups water, or use half milk for a richer taste
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon coarse salt
1½ cups coarse yellow cornmeal

In a medium cast-iron saucepan or other heavy pot, bring all ingredients except cornmeal to simmer over medium heat.

Very slowly, begin to sift corn meal into the pan through the fingers of one hand, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or whisk. (This operation will be greatly facilitated if the meal is scooped by the handful from a wide bowl.)

Gradually sift remaining meal into the pan, continue to stir, and reduce heat to medium low. Continue to stir until the polenta is smooth and thick and pulls away from the sides of the pan as it is stirred, about 30 minutes.

Discard bay leaf, pour polenta into a serving bowl or onto a wooden board, and allow it to rest 10 minutes. To serve from the bowl, dip a large spoon into hot water and scoop the polenta onto individual dishes, dipping the spoon into the water between scoops. To serve from the board, cut polenta into segments with a thin, taut string or knife and transfer to plates with a spatula or cake server.

 

Now usually I study recipes.  It's like reading a book and then taking a test.  But really, how hard could polenta be?  It's water, cornmeal, go.  The ingredients are simple.  The one thing is, I didn't read all the way through.  See that part where it says stir for 30 minutes?  Yeah, don't miss that part.  I thought I had the recipe memorized but for some reason the number 30 kept popping in my head.  Looking back at the recipe I cried an audible "What!?"  You mean I'm really supposed to stand here for 30 minutes and stir this thing that is rapidly turning into concrete while my children scream at me that I am starving them to death?  My husband is going to be home any minute and all I have to give him is tomato sauce!  And I can't even switch arms.  My left arm is so gimpy I can't do much with it but hold children in one place while I wipe their faces. 

 

So in addition to the sauce bubbling everywhere and my forearm cramping up and my children ramping up, I'm trying to google "how long do I have to stir polenta" hoping against hope that it's some sort of typo.  Alas, it is not.  I'm failing this test.  And my kids are letting me know.  Oh sure, there are no-stir polenta recipes but no, I didn't pick one of those, did I?  No, I had to go and be all authentic. 

 

See, polenta is actually a good Italian alternative to pasta.  Beans too.  I was trying to be gluten-free in a way we could actually afford.  Sigh. 

 

I plopped a spoonful on each plate followed by a dollop of sauce.  The sauce was awesome, I might add.  Made it from a can of crushed tomatoes.  All by myself.  I didn't take a picture because I couldn't find my phone and by that time I didn't even care. 

 

My husband said it could be good with more work.  I didn't choke him because at least he tried it and didn't spit it out.  None of the kids liked it.  My four-year-old ate four bites because he was four.  Not even Aria would eat it.  She's my little garbage disposal.  Needless to say, I should have taken another run cuz momma's full of polenta.  It was good enough to eat and good sauce covers a multitude of food sins. 

 

 

Biking, Running, and Scarlet Fever (you know, just normal stuff)

I went for a bike ride today!  I haven't gone bike riding since high school.  I haven't had a bike.  I felt so fast.  I wanted to raise my hands on a downhill part and shout, "I'm the queen of the world!"  I'm pretty sure I would have wiped out.  That would have been the end of rekindling my love affair with bikes for sure.  I was afraid that after the ride, I wouldn't want to run but no worries.  I still can't believe I say stuff like that.  "I want to go running."  What's even cooler is that I actually convince myself to do it. 

I remember seeing people running or hearing about a person signing up for a race and thinking "Gosh, if only I were athletic," or "That might be nice to do," but never feeling like it was something I could do.  I've done yoga and every Jillian Michael's DVD I can get my hands on but for some reason running never crossed my mind.  And now I'm running in 90 degree heat!  It has taken some getting used to.  All that stuff that I wore in the winter that I thought I could maybe use some of it for the summer.  I had no idea.  I read somewhere that your body warms up to 20 degrees or so higher than the actual temp while running.  It may take some convincing to believe it's only 20 degrees though. 

My biggest challenge now is to keep going.  To go farther.  To not get bored or quit mentally before I quit physically.  I've tried listening to music but honestly it throws off my rhythm.  Also, I usually listen to Pandora and they always throw me a slow song.  I even tried the work out channels but I don't really like them.  And my ears are so small that even with small ear buds, I'm constantly putting them back in and trying to listen for traffic.  I'm thinking about getting an audio book or two but I love giving the characters a voice and reading it myself.  I'm kinda running out of ideas.  The thing that works the best so far is a running buddy.  I've run the farthest when I'm with someone.  We have a great chat and the miles stack up behind us as we talk about life.  It's pretty stinking awesome but not very helpful for running alone!  Anyone got any ideas?  What do you think about during long distance run?  What do you do when the ADD sets in?  I may just have to get tougher.  Hmmm.

In other news, my middle kiddo has scarlet fever.  Did you freak out at those words?  I certainly did when the doctor came back with that diagnosis!  Anyone that has read any "Little House" books already knows what I'm talking about.  Laura Ingalls Wilder, the author of these semi-autobiographical books, has a sister named Mary.  Mary comes down with scarlet fever, gets rheumatic fever, goes blind.  Yeah, I freaked out a little but thank God we live in a time with antibiotics.  I almost didn't take him to the doctor though.  Coen has sensitive skin.  He had eczema when he was younger and I think he's getting seasonal allergies too.  It's not uncommon for his skin to do weird things.  We've been putting new sunscreen on and he's been out in the heat.  Even when I looked through lists of images of rashes for kids, scarlet fever was there but I never let the possibility enter my mind, I think because I how "old" I thought the disease was.  It's just another form of strep but I was right next to polio in my mind.  Needless to say, if your child breaks out in a sandpaper rash that won't clear up no matter how cool you keep him or how many oatmeal baths he takes, get it checked out!  I feel so bad because I exposed his Sunday school class to it too.  Guh.  Poor little man.  No one is going to go blind though.  Unless they look at my legs for too long but that's a different story.   

Love Songs

I thought I was going to bed.  I was in bed, contacts out and everything.  The kids are still and perfect in their sleep.  The house is quiet except for the dishwasher and the lullabies wafting from their room.  I can hear them from my bed.  They are the source of my sleeplessness. 

When we first had children, I came across a CD called "Lullabies For a Peaceful Sleep."  It is part of our memories now.  We still listen to it.  It is one of the sounds of love.  There are so many songs on this album that talk about how mom and dad will be there through the night, no matter what.  Songs that scared the living crap out of me as a new mom.  How do you live up to such a romantic, godly standard?  The task seemed so daunting at the time but of course I was trying to wrap my head around years at a time instead of days, moments.  I cried them to sleep many nights, rocking and hoping that I could do what the songs said, pledging that I would do my best and that, above all, they would know that they were loved. 

I'm sure my angst was magnified partly due to wicked hormones and lack of sleep but what I wanted most was to be able to somehow infuse them with love with every tilt of the rocker and every breath exhaled.  In the dark, alone with this life that I had been given to try not to screw up royally, it seemed like 18 was light years away.  Eighteen months might as well have been a fairy tale as well.  But I'm measuring things differently now.  The rocking chair doesn't get used much for rocking to sleep anymore.  More often than not, it's a pirate ship.  In a little over a year my first one will go off to kindergarten.  He's beginning to tell time and add and spell.  My three year old makes his own stories and songs at the top of his lungs and my youngest will be two this fall.  She thinks she's all grown up of course. 

It's much too soon to be crying over the first day of school but I know that after the first one, the air will be let out of the balloon and the world we've inflated here at home, that seems so much bigger than life, will fly away and we'll be waiting to see where it will land.

Will they remember these lullabies the way I do?  Or will it be a memory of waging war and finding excuses to keep bedtime from coming?  I know I can't make them love me.  My little lady says "I love you" now before I do when I lay her down.  I know that one day it's possible that she will hate me.  And as much as they may one day doubt their love for me, I hope they never doubt my love for them.  Sometimes it's the best we can do.  To make sure that the ones we love know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we love them.  I know there is One who went beyond a shadow of a doubt for me. 

Devo Detour

So I thought today I would just tinker around with my blog and see what I could do with it.  Apparently the answer is nothing.  Since this is not my computer I thought I should stop before I ended up throwing it across the room.  Oh well.  I won't stop trying but I could definitely use a break. 

In my bible studies a couple days ago I was reading Psalm 119.  Not all of it!  That would be like trying to eat the whole buffet!  The verse my book pointed out was Psalm:119:76, "May Your unfailing love be my comfort, according to Your promise."  I started thinking about all the places I find comfort other than Jesus.  Food, chocolate (also a food but way awesomer), sleep, running, but mainly food.  There are instances when I get it right and have the sense to stop and pray.  Something along the lines of "Jesus, be a fence...between me and these kids.  Cuz if I get my hands on them right now..."  For a large portion, though, food is what I turn to.  It's kind of laughable to have this skinny girl be a food addict and maybe I'm exaggerating but I don't think so.  Chocolate, coffee, ice cream, sugar and food in general.  I hide it, I hoard it, and it consumes way too much of my mind.  I can eat my husband under the table and that's saying something! 

This verse, though, is a reminder of where my comfort should be.  So much easier said than done.  There are days when I can make it without coffee and chocolate but they are few and far between.  I can tell the difference.  I can also tell the difference on days when I go without my time with God.  Those are usually the days when I eat more and enjoy life less.  But not just this verse.  There is the verse before it as well.  This whole passage really.  Let me get it for you, starting with verse 73,

"Your hands made me and formed me;
give me understanding to learn your commands.
74 May those who fear you rejoice when they see me,
for I have put my hope in your word.
75 I know, O Lord, that your laws are righteous,
and in faithfulness you have afflicted me. 
76 May your unfailing love be my comfort,
according to your promise to your servant. 
77 Let your compassion come to me that I may live,
for your law is my delight.
78 May the arrogant be put to shame for wronging me without cause,
but I will meditate on your precepts.
79 May those who fear you turn to me,
those who understand your statutes.
80 May my heart be blameless toward your decrees,
that I may not be put to shame. 

Like I said, even in this passage there's a whole bunch of stuff to pick up!  I really don't care about who done me wrong or anything.  I mean God takes care of that.  I'm not going around looking for people for God to zap on my behalf.  But the verse about being afflicted is awesome.  Afflicted is defined as severe distress according to Webster.  It can be something as relatively simple as an embarrassment or synonymous with torture.  And maybe I'm not reading this right but here's what I think.  I think in verse 75 it talks about God's faithfulness, not ours.  The faithfulness to himself.  The God that knows the plans He has for me and he will be faithful to bring them to reality.  He isn't a god of I-hope-so's and maybe's.  He's a god with a plan and a way to get you where you need to go. 

Now, if you're like me, maybe you have thrown a fit or two along the way because He didn't look at your map and the plans you had made, let alone approve them.  If you're like me, maybe you even sat down on the road a time or two and decided you quit.  Maybe you felt like the one being zapped.  But you have an amazing story that's still being written!  Jesus also said, "Abide in me and I will abide in you." (John 15:4)  One of the meanings of abide is "to put up with".  It's not super holy and maybe this isn't what Jesus meant, but in order for us to stick close to him and stay with him on this unknown path that he is taking us down, we're going to have to put up with not knowing why He puts us through some of the things He puts us through.  I mean, if He can put up with my whining and complaining and questioning and short-sightedness, I guess I could try to put up with His almighty, perfect plan.  We are afflicted for a reason, tested and tried to come out stronger.  To come out like pure gold instead of the grungy stuff we are now.  Too bad it's a lifelong process and I'll never get to proclaim how perfect I am down here.  But to get to spend eternity with this Father who loves us enough to let us suffer a little in light of what he has planned for us?  I can put up with that.