"Fix it, Mommy!"

To say that my sweet, precious Anna Beth is a difficult child is quite the understatement.  It's kind of like saying that water is wet.  She is headstrong, stubborn as a herd of mules, and won't do anything unless she thinks that she thought of it first.  That said, she has a loving heart and a giving spirit that I wouldn't trade for 10 obedient, reasonable, submissive toddlers.

Last week she came running up to me with a sad look on her face.  "Fix it, Mommy!"  "Fix what?" I questioned.  "I bwoked it.  Fix it, Mommy!"  I looked in her tiny hand.  In it, she cradled a broken blue jumbo crayon.

My initial reaction:  "I'm sorry, sweetie, Mommy can't..."  I trailed off as she looked me squarely in the eyes. "Fix it, Mommy," she said with just as much passion and total belief as she had the first two times.  It hit me then.  This was one of those moments where I could justify that innocent, trusting faith that she had in me, or I could say no and disappoint her.  I have no illusions of being a SuperMom, but this was one of those times where I knew that not trying would be more damaging than trying and maybe failing.

With a grin, I said, "Okay, baby.  Let's get some tape and fix it."  We dug out some Scotch tape and wound and wound and wound it around the crayon until it (sort of) stayed together.  Anna Beth gleefully shouted, "Yaaaaaaaay!  You did it!  You fixed it, Mommy!"

As she ran off to play, I thought about how she won't always think that Mommy can fix anything.  My older two are well in that stage.  They know to ask for help when they need it, but they know that Mom can't do everything.  Thankfully, they know that God is capable of doing everything.  I am blessed that they know how imperfect I am and how perfectly perfect that God loves me (and them) in spite of our flaws.

While I can't do everything, I can do something.  I can teach my kids about how our sin has broken us.  It has reduced us to useless garbage that no man with any amount of tape can fix.  God knew in His wisdom that we could be fixed.  We can be bound back together with the healing blood of Jesus Christ.  It heals our brokenness, it washes away our sin, and it restores our lives.  All God asks in return is total belief...the innocent, trusting faith of a child to believe that He is who He says He is and can do what He says He can do.  I am grateful to be His child.

Back to blogging?

Blogging, oh yes.  I forgot about blogging.  It seems like I just use Facebook these days to tell my little funny stories about the kids or I just write the posts in my head and don't share them with anyone.  How sad is that?!?  So, I'm going to give it another shot, just for old time's sake.

I noticed I had 16 unmoderated comments on some of my blog posts.  It seems that my posts REALLY inspire people to want to sell me pharmaceuticals, get me to look at their "gorgeous pictures," or play their "AWESOME" games.  I was pretty disappointed there were no actual comments, but I haven't been commenting much either, so I can't blame anyone but myself...and the pharmaceutical companies.

Anyhow, this happened:

I've lost 30 pounds since January 6--and have NEVER felt better!  Well, except for the part where everyone in my family just had the stomach virus.  ICK!  We are over that now, so I'm going back to the feeling waaaay better part.

And this happened:

My beautiful girls are growing up!  Emma was just inducted into the Jr. National Honor Society.  We are so proud of her accomplishments.  She just started taking piano lessons and is doing GREAT in beginner band, playing the flute.  Anna Beth has mastered the art of the temper tantrum.  No, really.  She will be 3 in May...and that can't get here soon enough if it means the end of the terrible twos.  We've made many attempts with potty training, but at the rate we are going, we may have her trained before she graduates high school.  (And just for you, Rachel,  I included my unmade bed in the background of this picture.  You're welcome.)

And this happened:

We went to the beach in January.  It was a make-up trip for our miserable Christmas.  I had pneumonia and was a sad, sick mess the whole time the kids were out of school.  It was a wonderful trip!

Oh, and this happened:

My super-smart, super-tall son, Luke won his classroom spelling bee and came in 4th runner up in the school spelling bee.  He gets smarter every day!

I am determined to do a better job keeping the ol' blog alive and kicking.  Y'all don't give up on me yet!

Does He see Himself in you?

1 John 3:1-"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

Since I was a little girl, one of my favorite congregational hymns to sing has always been "The Family of God."  A portion of the lyrics read:  "I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God, I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His blood!  Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod, For I'm part of the family, The Family of God."  When I was younger, I was curious as to what the family of God would look like.  Since we are made in His image, do we look like Him?   Does God recognize His heavenly attributes in us?  

In the short time my family has been members of Winfield First Baptist Church, I believe I've gotten a better idea of just what that family looks like.  Throughout the church, I see people who have His eyes.  Those with His eyes look for people who need encouragement.  They look for ways they can serve others.  Those who have His eyes see the beauty in sharing His love with others.  They are always looking for a way to reach out to those in need.

I have also seen individuals who have hands like God's.  They find joy in serving others.  I see His hands at work in the nursery, in Sunday School classes, in the kitchen, and all over the church.  I see His hands in the hands of those who hold steady to the hands of the hurting.  I see His hands reaching out in Christian fellowship every Sunday morning.  I see hands filled with His compassion and mercy, giving time and money to feed the needy, to clothe the poor, and to love the unloved.

I see His feet in the pictures of missionaries that have come out of our church.  I see His footprints leading the feet of so many people doing His work in our community and beyond.  Romans 10:15 says,  "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!"  Our church must be full of people who have feet like His!  

In my musings about God's family, I was reminded of my own earthly father.  He has been known to pull out his wallet to show off pictures of his grandchildren in the middle of Wal-Mart or any other place he happens to be.  I'd like to think that God pulls an angel aside from time to time and shows him our pictures and tells what good things He sees in us. The thing I want most is for God to show off my picture and say, "Now, this one--this one has my heart!"  Oh, to have a heart like His!  My heart may not look like His, but He lives in my heart--and that makes all the difference!

While we are an imperfect family serving a perfect Lord, we are striving to take on more of His attributes.      I am grateful to be a part of His family!  

1 Corinthinans 3:18-"And we all...are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord..." 

Whatever it is I think I see...

I could see his infectious smile long before he ran to our waiting car. He was absolutely beaming. I couldn't imagine what had made my boy so happy.

He hopped in the car. In my raspy bronchitis-y dying bird squawk, I said hello and asked him how his day went. He just continued grinning at me.

A few seconds later he thrust the object of his mirth between the front seats. Because I share a sense of humor fitting of an 8 year old boy, i also collapsed into hysterical raspy laryngitis-y guffaws.

Here it is:

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Poop? The world may never WANT TO know.

I can post from my phone now?!?

It would seem I have no excuses left then.

More to come.

Maybe.

We are on a roll now!

(Two posts in one week, y'all!  It's feast or famine 'round the ol' blog lately.  I'm going to make a noble attempt to get back in the swing of things, but no promises.)

We ate cucumbers for dinner Monday night.  No, not just cucumbers.  I'm sure there was other stuff...not that I remember what it was now.  Anyhow, for some weird reason, cucumber seeds kept showing up all over the house on Tuesday.  I found two on the sofa, one on a door, and two on the floor.  I'm not sure how they got everywhere like that, but Anna Beth had a guilty look on her face when I asked.  I'm just sayin'.

Luke saw me picking one up.  I was mumbling something about how they were everywhere and how weird it was.  He stopped doing his homework and looked at me intently.

Luke:  "You know, Mommy?  If you left those on the floor, I bet we could grow some cucumbers in the house."
Me:  "What kind of housekeeper do you think I am?  HOW DIRTY DO YOU THINK THESE FLOORS ARE?"
Luke:   "Well, you *do* have "Good Housekeeping" magazine on your Nook.  Maybe you need to read that."
Me:  *Silence*

Umm.. Wow.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  Luke is lucky that he's cute...

...because he sure is blunt--and honest.

If it looks like a post, smells like a post, and sounds like a post...

...it probably kinda is one.  Sorta.  I wrote this on my phone's notepad back in April, so things have definitely changed since then, but I still giggled at it a little.  Maybe you will, too.

Anna Beth's to do list:

• Wake up at 3:30 a.m..  Mommy misses me the most at that hour.  She likes for me to be in her bed, not mine.
• Put my feet on Mommy's nose while she sleeps. She likes that.
• Be grouchy when I get up.  Mommy, do you know you snore?
• Throw most of my breakfast on the floor for Tootie. I kinda owe her for something.
• After breakfast, mess with the blinds. Mommy will raise them so I can see outside. When she puts them up, she'll find the dead moth that I was going to take care of. What?!?  I was going to clean up. I'm a giver.
• Find Mommy's last 4 issues of "Southern Living." She hasn't had time to read them, so I will eat them.
• Have an exploding diaper incident that defies laws of physics and gravity. Consider that your science lesson for the day, Mommy.  
• Mommy has to change my outfit because of the diaper thing, so it's a fashion show!  Work it, girl!!!
• Laundry time.  While Mommy folds clothes, I take the folded clothes out of the basket and throw them after I slobber on them.
• Nap, but only after I put up a prize-winning fight.
• Lunchtime. Scream like a demon and hit the spoon every time Mommy tries to feed me vegetable turkey. If it looks like puke in a jar, it probably tastes like it, too. Eat Mommy's sandwich and Cheez-its instead. Winning!
• Spit up on freshly-vacuumed carpet and Mommy's new shirt. Told ya I didn't like vegetable turkey.
• Find half bath door ajar. Play in the big white fountain. Be amazed at how high-pitched Mommy can scream.
• Eat fridge magnets. Open kitchen cabinets. Smash fingers repeatedly. Bump head numerous times.
• Make note to self to get new hobbies.
• Eat Tootie's food. Enjoy impromptu bath and mouth-washing in kitchen sink.
• Pick up Emma and Luke from school.  Try to eat their homework.
• Attack Tootie while she sleeps. Laugh maniacally.
• Look innocent and confused when Daddy gets home and Mommy tells him that she's exhausted from our day. 
• Eat/throw dinner.  Wear as much of it as possible.
• Take a bath. Splash Daddy.  Eat washcloth.
• Pretend to go to sleep by 11:00 p.m.  Get up screaming at 11:30. Ha, ha!!!  I fooled you, Mommy!  I'm not sleepy!  Let's do it all again tomorrow!

Deal or No Deal?

This summer we’ve watched a little bit of the game shows, “Let’s Make a Deal” and “Deal or No Deal.”  The premise is the same:  You can trade what you have for something bigger and better, or possibly not as good as what you have.  The problem with these shows is that the outcome is uncertain.  Greed, ambition, and foolhardiness often overtake good judgment.  The result is usually that everything they’ve won is taken away.  Not such a good deal, after all…

I am something of a deal maker when it comes to my family.  At mealtime:  “One piece of broccoli, two green beans, and three bites of meat, and you can be done, Luke.”  At playtime:  “Emma, if you will clean your bathroom, you can have computer time.”  I even *try* to make deals with God:  “Lord, if You will just let Anna Beth sleep through the night, I will get up early for some quiet time in the Word.”  At least my deals typically have a good outcome.  (By the way, trying to make that deal with God doesn’t work.  He expects me to be obedient and have quiet time with Him anyhow.  It’s funny what sleep deprivation will do to you.)

God is the ultimate deal maker.  When you accept Jesus as your Savior, curtain #1 has the Father, curtain #2 has the Son, and curtain #3 has the Holy Spirit.  You can’t make a wrong choice.  As long as you make a good decision to trust God, He will give you the most grand of gifts—eternal life.  It doesn’t get any better than that!

Roadblocks

   Last weekend as we were coming home from a outing, we came upon a roadblock where policemen had closed the highway.  They were checking for driver’s licenses, proof of insurance, current tags, and looking for impaired drivers.  We passed through without incident, but Emma and Luke were a little shaken by the experience.  They were worried we had done something wrong.

   God puts up roadblocks for us, too.  When we start down a path that He doesn’t intend for us to tread, He often will speak to us through the Holy Spirit and gently remind us that we need to go another way.  Sometimes His roadblocks are just temporary setbacks that put us in the right place at the right time, delaying us from being in the way of danger. Other times, He sets up a checkpoint to refresh our relationship with Him through His word and through conviction of sins.

   Proverbs 16:9 says, “The mind of a man plans his way, but the Lord shows him what to do."  God knows the best way for us to go.  Sometimes His ways don’t make perfect sense to us, but they get us to the place where He wants us to be—near to His heart.

   The best roadblock God has given us stops us from taking the path away from Heaven.  Jesus is God’s way of stopping us from going the wrong way altogether.  Jesus said in John 14:6, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Though life may throw up obstacles along the journey, there is one clear path to our Father—the loving arms of Jesus lead the way.

Checking In

 

Now that Anna Beth is mobile, walking and crawling anywhere she pleases, she’s getting a little more independent on where she wants to go.  Gone are the days where she stays right next to me, just content to be in my presence; now she’s on the go!  She wants to explore everything and every place she can. 

Even though Anna Beth’s journeys take her further away from her comfort zone right next to me, she uses a technique that I compare to that of bats using echolocation.  Bats make sounds as they fly through the dark to find out exactly where they are.  Anna Beth uses the word “hi” (said over and over) to let me know where she is and to find out exactly where I am.  If I don’t answer her “hi” check-in right away, she cries and lets it be known how unhappy that makes her.

God desires for us to check-in with Him in that same kind of way.  Our prayer relationship with Him should be constant, always letting Him know what is on our minds and where we are with Him.  It’s not that He doesn’t know how or where we stand, but He wants us to keep those lines of communication open with Him. 

1^st Thessalonians 5:17 tells us to “Pray without ceasing.”  God wants more than just a check-in of “hi” from us.  He wants a real relationship that we maintain because we want to be close to Him, to feel His love and to let Him know the desires of our hearts.  He is always near, just waiting for us to check-in with Him.

 

My storm story...one week later.

My storm story isn't much of a story at all. We were awakened by Winfield's tornado siren at 4:00 a.m. on Wednesday, April 27. Our satellite wasn't working, so I pulled up radar on my phone. We saw that the storm was north of us, in the Hamilton/Hackleburg area, so we knew we would be okay. School ended up being cancelled due to the expected bad weather to come. Jason had to go into work since our Internet got knocked out in the morning storm, and he couldn't work from home.

The kids were glad to be home. I was glad to have them here, but I worried about Jason. Turns out, Birmingham had fared much worse in the morning's storm. His office had no power, no Internet, and their generator had been hit by lightning. He hung around until it was clear no work could be done. He made it back home by noon.

As the day went on, we watched James Spann show community after community go under tornado warnings. Each storm went just barely north or south of our town. A couple got close enough to make us seek shelter in our poured concrete closet. We watched in horror, disbelief, and sadness as we watched Cullman get hit by a terrible tornado, live on camera.

Time after time, we headed for shelter, but never had any problem until our power went out at 5:00 p.m.  It was probably a blessing in disguise.

At 5:13 p.m., a massive tornado destroyed a huge portion of Jason's one-time hometown of Tuscaloosa. It played out live on tv and radio. We were blissfully unaware.

Our power didn't return overnight. We had no phone, no cell, and no Internet. Concerned family nationwide tried to call, e-mail, and text, but nothing could get through.

School was cancelled on Thursday. Landlines worked, and I found out that my parents' power was back on. We decided to see if we could pick up breakfast in town. We were stunned to see the lines all over town at the gas stations and restaurants. We still didn't understand the local scope of what had happened. With the new dawn, radio stations were reporting the devastation in Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, but no one knew exactly what was happening in our own county.

We headed to my parents' home. Dad provided coffee and tv coverage. I sat in front of their tv screen, dumbfounded. How could this have happened in my beloved Alabama? Why were we spared? Literally, you could draw a circle around my hometown and from every compass point around us, there was death, damage, and destruction in every direction. Hamilton, Hackleburg, Smithville (MS), Jasper, Tuscaloosa, Cordova, Birmingham, Cullman..."Oh, Father, have mercy," was the only prayer I could voice, and I prayed it over and over all day.

Our power returned later that afternoon. My gratefulness was saturated with sadness for my county, my state, my region. "Why, Lord, why?," I questioned, not out of anger, but grief.

I changed my mindset come Friday. I wanted, no, NEEDED to help. I'd heard that local stores were wiped out, so I raided my own stash of personal goods and baby items. For once it was good to be something of a hoarder. :)

When I finally mustered up enough courage to go to the store, I just couldn't make myself want to buy anything for my family. We had a full fridge, freezer, and pantry. We were all healthy, had clothing, and a roof over our heads. We filled up one cart with baby food, formula, and toys. Our other cart had little because we honestly needed little. I guess I have something akin to survivor's guilt. At the same time, I realize just how blessed we are. I don't deserve God's favor. None of us do.

The clean-up, rebuilding, and healing process have begun. It will be a long, painful, slow ordeal. As I was reminded yesterday as I watched Anna Beth take her first slow, shaky, unsteady steps, I realized that our state's recovery process will be shaky, uncertain, and slow, but we WILL come back from this. We WILL have the opportunities to be God's hands and feet to show His love to our fellow man. God WILL be glorified in this.

Picking Roses

Last Saturday morning I needed to fill two empty vases for table decorations at our Ladies’ Conference.  I first walked out in my garden to my white roses, since our decorating theme was all white.  My white roses looked dingy, old, and slightly wilted.  I settled for the more colorful miniature roses that grew on the other side of the garden.  They were in much better condition.  They showed no signs of decay.  They didn’t have any ragged edges and were brightly hued.  They held their petals tightly.  Most were blemish-free, looked healthy, and smelled lovely.  “Yes,” I thought, “These will have to do.”

I’m so glad that God doesn’t look at Christians the way I looked at my roses.  Sure, we all get dingy in our sin; we get tired in our Christian service; we even show signs of decay in our faith.  But God doesn’t walk away from us, even in our worst state.  He knows that we were “wonderfully made” to serve Him (Psalm 139:14).  No matter how blemished we become from sin, He can still wash us clean through the blood of His Son.  Even on our most ragged days, God can see our potential.  Romans 5:8 tells us that But “God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.”  He mercifully looks at our hearts and says, “Yes, these are the ones that I have chosen.” 

I am so thankful that he picked me!

Counting Blessings

Has God ever spoken to you through a song?  I had it happen to me a couple of weeks ago as I sat in church.  It had been one of THOSE mornings.  You know, one where the kids didn’t want to get up, didn’t like their breakfast, one had sniffles, the other didn’t like their clothes, the baby didn’t sleep, and my shoes hurt my feet.  Yeah, one of THOSE mornings.

As we opened our hymnals to “Count Your Blessings,” I realized right then that I had not been counting my blessings; instead, I had been numbering my sorrows.  How much easier and naturally that comes to me!  God has blessed me with a wonderful, healthy family, godly parents, good health, and everything else that I need, yet, my focus is on what I don’t have, can’t obtain, and what isn’t going the way I wanted it to.  How short-sighted of me!

I felt like God was telling me that it was high time that I change my perspective on things.  I could choose to wallow in my sorrows, or I could praise Him for what He has done, is doing, and will do.  I could train my eyes to the ground and be mournful, or I could “lift up my eyes to the hills… [to] the LORD,
         Who made heaven and earth,” (Psalm 121:1-2).

It did me good to be reminded that God is in control over all.  He knows my sorrows, even the petty ones, and He still chooses to bless me, despite all my shortcomings.  I am so thankful to God that He loves me enough to show me what I’m doing wrong…and He’s just gentle enough to do it in a song.