Why I Broke Those Little Hearts

This week we had a mini crisis in our family.  I sat my 3 tiny humans down on the couch, held each of their faces that were warmly lit by the fireplace and told them that Santa Claus wasn't REAL.   I know, I know.  What's the harm in them believing in a fairy tale?  I mean a lot of our favorite Christmas movies involve Santa, they are so excited to see him at the mall, and there's nothing better than making him chocolate chip cookies and leaving carrots for the reindeer before they toddle off to bed on Christmas Eve.  

We don't make a huge deal about Santa at our house...I mean I didn't think we did.  The kids each get one present from him and the rest are from mom and dad, grandparents, and friends.  We don't make up elaborate stories of hearing Santa on the roof, the North Pole, or naughty and nice lists.  But the last few years the oldest of my crew had been asking more details about him and how he delivers all the presents and all of the usual curious questions.  And it began to bother me.  I mostly tried to side step her questions and re-direct back to the true meaning of Christmas and the story of Jesus' birth.  But, when I did try filling in the blanks about Santa I was lying.  LYING.  Which is the worst offense in our house. Our children are allowed to make plenty of mistakes...and they do...but what we absolutely will NOT tolerate in our home is LYING.  

We preach honesty and try our best to live it.  

She would inevitably ask me questions about Heaven in the same conversations about Santa Claus.  So telling the truth about one thing while lying (however innocent I tried to justify it) about the other.  One night she asked me if I was lying about Heaven.  There it was.  I desire more than anything as a parent to be trusted by my children.  For them to believe the truth I live out before them and believe what I teach them.  

Then this week I read Jen Hatmaker's blog post.  If you don't read her, you are missing out.  She wrote in her post about giving all of Christmas back to Jesus, not just a corner of it.  Fireworks went off in my heart.  The deal was sealed.  I was about to break some hearts.  But I want my kids rooted and grounded in TRUTH.  It may sound extreme.  It felt extreme at the time...like I was robbing them of Christmas magic and childhood wonder.

That is how lost I have gotten.  Robbing them?? Seriously?? Did I really think that??

I REPENT LORD! 

The true magic of Christmas is the wonder of a Creator who poured Himself out into a tiny baby, to live as a human, to suffer greatly while on this earth so He could redeem mankind out of His great LOVE for us!  

And I have taken the gift of a Savior and put it in a tiny box, and while asking my kids to make their Christmas lists and taking them to see Santa, have (out of fear they aren't remembering the real meaning of Christmas) said,
"now guys, why do we really celebrate Christmas?"  Relieved when they answer "Jesus' birthday" and that has been enough to settle my parental heart.  

Then I remember 

"I am the LORD; that is my name! I will not give my glory to

 anyone else, nor share my praise with carved idols." 

And I felt His passion and zealousness for me burn white hot.  

So we will not be sharing Christmas with Santa Claus anymore.  We won't be condemning anyone who celebrates with Santa.  When we see him, we will wave and say hello.  We will be putting our entire focus on JESUS. 

Sounds extreme??  I know, I know.  But HIS LOVE  is extreme.  And it deserves an EXTREME response.  The world is pretty EXTREME on removing anything and everything having to do with Jesus.  So we are being EXTREME too.

Happy Christmas Season!

L.

9 Years

9 years of less sleep, never finishing a meal in one sitting, cuddles, comforting after bad dreams, reading  Goodnight Moon over a 1000 times, middle of the night rocking, and shedding LOTS of tears of joy, exhaustion, and love.

My baby girl turned 9.  NINE!  I have no idea how it happened but it did.  And I tried to slow time down but it didn't work.  I soaked in so many moments and I missed many moments that I cannot get back.  We celebrated her with a party, photo booth, and lots of friends.  This girl is the apple of my eye.  There was a time I thought I would never experience the joy of motherhood but I am so grateful for miracles that come in red, curly-headed packages.

Failure, Weakness, and Closer to Jesus

Recently I read a blog post that really struck a heart string.  I will post the link to it at the end of this post.  It is definitely worth checking out.  I suppose it sent an arrow and set my heart ablaze because it gave lyrics to what has been the song of my heart as of late.

I mentioned today at lunch with some friends that the older I get, the less I know or understand.  I had way more answers to questions when I was in my early 20's.  Not that they were the right answers but I sure thought so.  Not only do I feel less capable to give advice or answer someone's question but I also have become much more aware of my weakness.  There are days where I am so aware of my humanness it could be paralyzing if not for constant prayer to connect to the SOURCE of LIFE.  I used to feel much more invincible than I do now.  Maybe I have become wiser.  And wisdom looks like an awareness of my smallness in the shadow of His bigness.

And then there's failure.
Oh, I hate that word.  And then I don't hate it.  In truth, failure represents gain to me.  And failure really isn't failure after all.  I guess it all depends on your perspective and how you use it.  I had someone who is wise tell me very recently that I did not fail.  It sure seemed the opposite to me.  But I took what she said and I searched my heart.  I always tell my kids (annoying as it is to hear myself say to them) "do your best and forget the rest"!

Then those annoying words rang in my ears and my heart. So I did what any self-respecting adult would do...I did my best then I worried and worried about the rest.  What?!?!?! You mean to say you DIDN'T forget it?

NOOOOOOO!  I pretended to but I didn't.  It didn't take long though.  I'm pushing 40 and no longer have the energy to worry more than 24 hours.  I had to take responsibility, do what I could do, then lay it down despite the outcome.  And then I had to do the hardest part of all, forgive myself for my shortcomings.
I have no power over an outcome, over another being's response.  I only have power over my choices, my choices to forgive, to love, to sow peace.  Even now as I type that I am challenged to really believe it.  I still think somewhere inside myself I can do it all.  I can make everything all right for everybody else.

But I know I cannot.

So, I can worry and make my life miserable or I can let go.
And when I say "let go", I don't mean stop caring, or pretend like circumstances don't exist.  "Letting go" for me means I am going to devote some serious time to praying.  To being still.  To listening.  To resting.

And that is exactly what I have done.  It hasn't been easy.  It's been a fight.  An uphill battle.  But I am at peace.  I'm resting in WHO HE is.  There is no better place to be than that.

XO,
L.

This following post is so so good.  Check it out when you have a few minutes!
http://danacandler.com/3696/why-growing-in-god-looks-weaker-than-we-thought/

Birthdays, Bobcats, and Dirty Grandpa

Recently I took a little weekend trip with the everlasting friend to celebrate our birthdays.  I call her that because I've known her for 32 years but we have been close for the last 18.  She's closer than a sister to me, we love like sisters and fight like them too.  We can and have duked it out but we have always made it to the other side.  This is deep friendship to me.  You cannot escape conflict in relationships, but you can grow depth in them through the trying times.  She knows me.  And I know her.  We laughed til we cried and we cried til the giggles came.  It was the best time.

And there we were laughing and crying in my hubs little sporty car (we wanted to drive something not resembling our mom-mobiles) talking 100 miles an hour and driving 80 miles an hour and then it happened.  A big ol' bobcat right in front of my car.  BAM.  I hit him dead on. Pardon the pun.

Yes, I was watching the road.
No, I was not on my phone.
No, I was not messing with the radio.

That poor doomed bobcat leaped right in front of my car and there was nothing to do.  Swerving at 80 miles an hour would have hurt more than that bobcat.  Needless to say we did pull over, totally shaken, and that poor animal left this world but before he did, he took vengeance out on our car.  Light dangling, grill smashed in, bumper a few inches from the highway floor...$2000 damage to the hubs car.  He's up in bobcat heaven laughing his tail off I am sure.  A few miles and towns later, we found some kind body shop guys who, while laughing at us, did duct tape the car so we could be on our merry way.  It was only a few hours into our weekend but the adventure was well underway.
My very witty friend, who was trying to shift gears back to the fun direction, came up with "bobcat splat".  Us 1 Bobcat 0.

Nothing is going to stop us from our weekend of the "no-kid zone", touring the wineries, and eating to our heart's content.  Even if we have to drag our bumper 300 miles down the highway.

Somehow, I thought that experience would be the most adventurous thing that happened that weekend. I mean, it's all downhill from here, right?  WRONG.

Later that evening, after we had a little dinner and strolling through some shops, we decided to pop into the brewery to check it out.  We sat down and immediately, like girls do, she left to go to the bathroom.
SHE LEFT ME.  No big deal. It's a restaurant.  I can sit at a table by myself for 5 minutes.  But I never will again.

And there he was.  Asking if he could buy me a drink.  Me, a 37 year old mother of 3, happily married mind you, with my wedding ring flashing in his face.  I turned around to politely say "no thank you".  But when I looked up, there was a 78 year old man standing there.  YEP.  Could have been my grandpa.

Oh, I thought I was getting hit on!
It's a grandpa!
He's just being nice!

Confession time:  I didn't know what to say.  For some reason, if it had been someone my own age, I could have easily said "thanks but no thanks" but grandpa threw me off.  I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  So, I did what any good friend would do.  I pawned it off on her.  She has no problem being direct.  Except for this night.  So, for a lengthy amount of time he sat with us.  Telling us the story of how he came to be a cattle man owning ranches from Texas to Colorado, his 3 wives (while trying to get me to be his 4th, turns out old gramps was hitting on me), his children and grandchildren, his oil wells, and telling us Bible stories.  It was an odd conversation.
This man is used to people being interested in him because of what he can offer them.
But we just listened to him.  Just sat there while he told his story.  No agenda.  Hoping he felt value for himself beyond what he can give.

We finally parted ways.

I hope that night was one less lonely one in his world.  I hope he felt seen and heard.  I wish I could tell him that he is more than his success or his money because I am sure that is all people see when they look at him.  I wish I could tell him that he matters, that he is loved beyond measure by Someone because of who he is, not what he has.

In the end, I do for sure know one thing.  I am going to the bathroom with my friend next time.  We made a pact to not be left alone the rest of the weekend.  There's a whole other story for Saturday night.  I am too old for this.

L.

 

Sitting In Wait

If you are like me, waiting is hard.  We have a pick-up line at my daughter's school.  Her teacher walks her right to my car every afternoon.  Whoever is first in line gets their kid first and so on.  I can always see my daughter but it might be a few minutes before she actually gets in the car, even though she is no more than 15 feet from me.  I sometimes wanna yell "come on! It's ok just run over here and get in."  But those aren't the rules.  The teacher has to physically walk them to the car and help them get in.  It's a small private school so it works.  It would be so easy to over rule them and tell my kiddo to run on over but I have to respect how they operate things.  

This seemingly insignificant act got me thinking...how many times have I done something MY way because it was easier?  In particular, dealing with loved ones who might be hurting, grieving, or walking through a difficult season in their life.  It's our human response to want to help, bring comfort, or ease the pain.  But some pains cannot be eased by us.  And then sometimes, it's not about easing the pain but just being there for the one you love.   And sometimes "being there" is not really being present with them at all, but being available to them.  People are different.  We know this.  We are created with great care and detail by our Creator.  No one is like you and you are like no one else.  And we all handle things differently.  If you know me, then you know I am kind of like Batman.  No, I do not go out at night masquerading as a vigilante.  But like Batman, I have a certain way of dealing with my pain and sometimes I set up camp in my bat cave.  I hide.  I process...alone.  I am an external processor but not always with people.  Sometimes, it involves just me and God.  I cry with people and sometimes I prefer to cry alone.  Those closest to me, know this.  And they respect this.  While I know it is difficult for them, they put what and how I walk through pain before themselves.  They love me the way I need to be loved.  It's about me, not them.  They do not let me lay a foundation and build a house in my cave but they will give me the time I need to camp there temporarily.  And when its time for me to leave, they know it.  Sometimes I come out willingly and sometimes they drag me out.  But they are always there calling me up to move from one place to another. Higher ground.  Never leaving me to rot in the cave, but also respecting my boundaries and letting me be.  

And even though my friends have shown graceful restraint with me, I must confess that I have busted through people boundaries with my own selfishness leading the charge.  I have not respected people's space.  And this is so important.  When we overstep, I believe it comes from a good place.  You want to love, you want to help, but when we put ourselves ahead of others it becomes about your comfort and not theirs. We see that loving and being there for someone can look different.  It doesn't have to be the way we see it or even the way we would want it to look like if we were the one in pain.  

Lately, I am getting several opportunities to learn what this looks like.  And it is really no fun at all but extremely valuable.  Being available is so important.  It seems to me that's how God operates.  He is gentle, never forcing Himself yet He is always available to us.  Waiting with great anticipation to comfort us, hold us, shower us with peace, collect our tears.

I am not going to attempt to do what only God can do.  But I will do my very best to be available to people.  To love them in the form they need it and He can show us how to do that if we make ourselves available to HIM.

L.

Coffee With a Judger Part 2

Like I said before, my coffee date with the judger was a loooong morning so now for the next session... and there could be a session after this one and another and another.  My heart continues to spill out days after that particular morning and even though I have been warned (by the blog professionals) against using my blog as a journal, that is exactly what it looks like I'm doing.  I wanted to write funny stories about the ins and outs of the days at our house...because I could fill novels full of inappropriateness, embarrassing incidences, crazy town shenanigans, and so on.  

But right now I find myself writing about something a bit more vulnerable and exposing.  And it makes sense.  My life is like this.  I bet yours is too.  My days usually start out as one thing and end looking completely different than what I imagined.
I used to think it was because I was unfocused (I certainly can be) or unorganized(Hello! also true) but now I think it has more to do with allowance or yielding if you will.  
I don't know when God is going to move...but I want to move with Him.  When He has something to say to someone, I want Him to use me.  I want to listen, to be in tune, to read the wind (if you pardon this analogy) and ride on the current in the direction He is moving.  And allowing and yielding to these things can "mess up" my day.  But I kinda like messes.  Because I am one.  A beautiful one.  

The conversation in that coffee shop took a different direction that day.  It turned from a potential bitchfest into a commitment to accountability, graciousness, mercy, choosing love. 

What happens when you get to see the ugly side of someone? The dark part of someone? The part where you see them mistreat a family member? They are rude to a waitress? Give a biting remark about someone else in front of you?  To be clear...I have done all of these things and more.  And I am sure I have been judged for it.  I am also sure I have had people extend mercy to me. 

My tendency, to be honest, is to judge.  And I am good at it.  I am so good at building cases with mounting evidence, I should have been an attorney.  

But as seasons change, so am I...changing that is. 

When I see "unredeemed" qualities in me, I want to take them to Jesus.  When I see unredeemed qualities in someone else, I want to pray for them.  When I see manipulation, I know that person has the power of influence, yet if they are using that power for selfish gain, its unredeemed.   We all have God giftings and they are different for each one of us.  But when they are not cloaked in humility and bathed in Jesus they can be used dangerously.  I have done it.  I have been at the receiving end of it.  It hurts...both ways.  
When I get a window into someone, I don't want to write them off the page.  I don't want to be written off the page.
I want to see it the way He sees it.  I want to see the potential, the possibility. 

Love brews great possibility.  My limited judgements do not.  OUCH.  That one really hurt y'all.  Thinking that my assessment of someone or a situation can bring about change.  I cannot do what only HE can do.  I must yield.  I must wait.  And while I wait,  I must seek Him.  I want to see through His lens and to do that, I have to put mine down...and when I do that it looks like this...

put it down, pick it up, no, no put it down.  I got hurt again, pick it up!  No, no, put it down..I need peace.  I got excluded and my insecurity alarm is ringing...pick up my lens.  PUT IT DOWN!!!

I'm exhausted, that lens of mine is heavy...His is so much lighter!

Until next time,
L.

Coffee With a Judger

Do you happen to have those days when you need to "vent" or process externally???  I do! In truth, I ALWAYS process externally.  I have a VERY SHORT list of those that I perform this task with...they are those people that I completely trust, that will point me to Jesus, that speak the TRUTH, NOT tell me what I WANT to hear but tell me what I NEED to hear even though it might offend my flesh, it will stir my heart to love and grace.  

I very recently had coffee with a friend.  She had had a tough month...or 6.  I think she caught me a bit raw this fateful morning.  She needed to vent.  Apparently, so did I.  But something strange happened.  As I listened to her...God began to make Himself VERY present.  Truth is, He is always very present, we just aren't so aware.  But this morning, HE sat Himself right between us on that old, comfy leather couch in that coffee shop.  As I listened to her spill out her hurt, frustration, and yes, judgements, something happened.  I knew exactly how she felt.  I watched her. I listened to her. I WAS her.

"Stop building your case.  LOVE."

Wait a second...that wasn't what I gonna say to her.  She's justified in her situation.

I knew what was coming...HE was borrowing my mouth to take her to the TRUTH.  To convict her to love.  To bring her near.  To bring her back from judgement.  But in reality...those words coming out of my mouth were like hot arrows piercing my heart.  They burned but in a good way, a right way, a loving way that is done with great kindness.  His way.  Remembering that kindness is what leads to repentance (changing the way I think).  He had joined our conversation and He had a lot to say.  

"Who Do I say you are?" "Who Do I say they are?"  that still voice that calms me.

Remembering that God doesn't let us take a peek in someone's humanity so we can make assumptions and sit back and judge them.  He gives insight and revelation so you can PRAY and love and be gracious.  It's a gift from Him...and I confess that I tend to use it as a weapon.  A weapon to build my case against them, as an excuse to not do the hard work of loving.  Yes, loving is not easy.  It's work...to love the ones who have hurt you, rejected you.  Honestly, I can be very bad at this.  I have those in my life that are easy to love...that's not work...and I am more than grateful for those who are just easy to be with.  They are like a refreshing rain in the dessert of a world where loving can be difficult.  When it can offend your flesh to love but it frees your heart.  Have you read 1Corinthians 13?


I'm sure you have.  Read it again.  You know the part where is says, "love does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out"?
That's what happened in that coffee shop.  Truth won out. 

 Love is not for the faint-hearted.  It's a choice that I have to choose daily.  And sometimes, I make bad choices. But sometimes I choose correctly.

Coffee this day was 2+hours...so there is so much more.  But now I am spent and there are 2 littles watching cartoons right now that need to be loved on.  

Until next time,
L.

It's Fall Y'all!

My favorite season has arrived! Now if someone would let the weather know.  It's a lovely 92 degrees outside but inside this house it's Autumn.  We have pumpkins, leaves, red currant candles burning and the crockpot doing all the work making something delish to eat.  Luckily, cooler weather is on the forecast and this chick can't wait.  I have leather pants and faux-fur vests whispering from my closet, "wear me".  Thank ya JESUS that swimsuit season is over and I can skip shaving my legs for days at a time!

L.

I Like Clothes...I Don't Like Shopping

So while I like to dress up, I don't get the chance very often. I like to put something on other than sweats but I don't enjoy shopping that much.  I'm mostly an online kinda girl and Target, of course because I can get my endless lists of pull-ups, milk, and trash bags and maybe just maybe pick up a cute cardigan.  So I decided I would jump on the ootd (outfit of the day) bandwagon, but mine will be more like 2 a week if I can even handle that.

  

Black & White:
Romper: LOFT
Sweater: Buckle
Watch: Nixon (Buckle)

Other Ensemble:
Denim Top: Buckle
Bottoms:  Gap
Pink Kicks: Nine West

I WILL See the Goodness of the Lord

I have a new favorite song.  Only listened to it all day everyday for the past 5 days.  I will post the link to the video at the end of this post.

The song stirred some things in me.  Things like my friend who has a debilitating disease that affects her movement, the pain so great it prevents her from sleeping.  She, only one year older than me, with 2 young boys and a husband, have a team of people helping them with daily tasks, the simple ones that I take for granted but that are insurmountable ones for her.  But her faith is like none I have seen, except in Bible stories.  She is unwavering, not questioning God, not bitter, just loving Him, thanking Him, worshipping Him, praising Him.

Then I have friends who have been labeled barren.  I have too many of these friends, yet one would be enough.  Heart-breaking, heart wrenching.  What comes so easily without the slightest struggle for MILLIONS seems impossible for these.  I say SEEMS impossible because even though that has been the label used by doctors, I know that only He is the giver of life.

Then I have friends who are the most courageous people I have known.  The ones who have lost a child.  These friends have looked my worst fear right in the face and not just survived...but thrived in the only One who can truly comfort and heal.  I know for them the days are long and the nights even longer.  I have been a witness to their pain and their triumphs and I am continually in AWE of their unshaken faith when to be honest, I have been shaken at much less.


My hubs and I have what we like to call "Red Chair Time".  We have red adirondack chairs on our patio where we sit at night after we put the littles to bed.  This is the place where we can connect after long days and sometimes, long weeks.  We talk about everything under the sun... funny stories about the kids,  his career joys and frustrations, our schedules, our fears, politics (his choice, not mine...blah blah blah) what we feel like God is doing and saying about anything and everything.  I usually talk for an hour straight while he listens and nods, not dare interrupting his talkative wife...after 15 years of marriage, he knows I how roll and I will talk myself into a tizzy and then back out of one.  He knows I will come full circle.

Last night though was different.  He asked me a question and it got my heart doing it's usual pondering.  The question itself I will keep to myself.  But it did get me thinking how many times I have tried to bend God to my reasoning?  How many times have I attempted to put Him in a box where I can make sense of circumstances and put definition to how He moves and works in the earth using my human mind to appease myself and others.  Measuring my own limited understanding to His matchless ways of weaving the ugly parts of life together to create beauty.  I don't have to understand...I couldn't anyway. But I want to rest my hope on Him.

Psalm 27...I'm pondering this...drinking it.  I wish I had a conclusion.  I wish I could say I never waver, my knees don't get weak when pain, fear, and uncertainty come.  But He is there...always calling "Come to me".  He doesn't fill me in on all the details of His weaving...but yet I'm always assured by His presence.  He's good even when my emotions are in opposition to His word. He's good and I'm setting my hope on Him.

This is worth nine minutes of your life:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPQqhc2e6ww


L.

Do You Ever?

Do you ever say the wrong thing at the wrong time?

Do you ever make your kids eat the dinner you burned, telling them it’s not that bad, while you eat cookies for dinner in your closet when they aren’t looking?

Do you ever comment to one of the fellow moms on your kids's (Christian school) cheer team that her daughter has the moves like Jagger only to have her not smile or laugh and look at your sideways??

I know she only listens to Christian pop while we are jamming to Jay Z and “I’m Sexy and I Know It”.

Do you ever say to the people in line behind you at the grocery store while you're children are running around screaming and opening the candy at the register and taking a bite then putting it back, 

"it's okay, they're still sinners...they have yet to receive Jesus as their Savior.”

Do you ever order a corn dog for lunch then see one of your friends and pretend the corn dog is for one of your kids because you, of course, only eat salads?

Do you ever tell the cashier after she responds your curly headed kid has something stuck in his hair that it’s just his oatmeal from breakfast and your saving it for his morning snack when he gets hungry?

Yeah me neither.

L.

Laugh or Die

I woke up this morning heavily drowning in insecurity.  I spent most of my life drowning in it so I can spot the old friend creeping up in me almost immediately.   I don’t follow appropriate guidelines in my life.  I tend to say whatever I think with no filter.  But I wasn’t always like that.  For years, I never said anything.  I kept to myself in fear of being judged, scrutinized, whatever it may be.  And for many years of my life I lived in a fog of depression.  BUT, something happened to me.  

You see, I was brought up in church. We went every Sunday morning, every Sunday night, every Wednesday night.  I knew every Bible story, we said grace before every meal.  I went down to the front to receive Jesus as my Savior when I was 9.  Got baptized at 11.  The whole enchilada.  But Jesus really wasn’t my Savior...

And it wasn’t until years later that He really became that to me.  Yes, I always believed I was a sinner and He died on the cross to save me and give me eternal life.  But my experience with Him saving me was quite different than anything I had been taught growing up.  You see, it became very personal to me when I lived in that fog of depression.  I have a family history of depression.  And, for whatever reason I found myself wanting to end my life.  There was no big event that happened to me, no tragedy, no sickness, just everyday life seemed so overwhelming.  I longed for peace, rest, happiness,  all the things that just seemed out of my grasp no matter how hard I tried to attain them.

HE SAVED ME and He used relationships to do that.  He brought people (too many to count) across my path that continued to point me to Himself.  The more people I opened myself up to, the free-er I became.  So, years later I’m still practicing that.  

I won’t expose you to the ridiculous circumstance that led to the fog I woke up in this morning, but I will tell you that I picked up the phone and called a friend and we had a silly conversation which helped me remember...I’m okay.  I’m ok with me...and He can use that.  You see, when He saved me, when He reached His almighty saving arm into my fog and pulled me out and replaced all that darkness with joy and laughter.  I love to laugh, it REALLY is the very best medicine.  He saves me with JOY!  

“See God has come to save me.  I will trust in Him and not be afraid.  The Lord God is my strength and my song; He has given me victory.  With JOY you will drink deeply from the fountain of salvation!  In that wonderful day you will sing: Thank the Lord! Praise His name!  Tell the nations what He has done.  Let them know how mighty He is!  Sing to the Lord, for He has done wonderful things” Isaiah 12:2-5

And then today, as I was mopping my kitchen while the little people who live here were chasing each other and using their suckers as swords, He reminded me that He gave me laughter that day when He rescued me from taking myself too seriously.   And yes, even my inappropriateness, as a gift.  To make others laugh and even sometimes to make them feel like it’s okay.  It’s okay to be you.  He made you, not only does He love you, He really LIKES you!  So let’s be serious when we need to be...and otherwise...laugh your ass off as often as possible.  

L.

Humiliation on Repeat

It happened at the gym.  I humiliated myself like never before and if you know me that’s a huge feat to accomplish...

My friend and I had just finished our Pilates class and we went strolling through the gym to find her husband who was no where to be found.  So I found myself standing there in the cardio machine area in my Uggs (Hello! Pilates is a barefoot workout and I wanted to be warm and comfy when I left!), workout attire, no makeup face just looking lost and she beside me debating on where her hubs could be.  
Then it  happened...I made eye contact with the 20 something buffman hottie waving at us and trying to say “hey”.  I immediately turned to my friend and asked her if we knew him.  I thought it more likely he was trying to get her attention than mine...I mean what would this guy want with me?  He saw this almost 40 year old mommy with 3 kids standing there in her Uggs so irresistible???  Then out of sheer panic of what to do because he seemed so persistent I yelled (ok, maybe it was more like a holler) “Do I know you?”  Apparently my question was an invitation to come on over so there he came and finally when he got right up in my grill I realized “oh, I do know you!”  He was the husband of my hub’s former assistant. 

Now for the back story...just 2 days before my hubs had come home from work with the news that his former assistant and her man were divorcing.  He had proceeded to tell me how awkward it was when he asked how they were doing and so on.  So you know the drill...you see them and naturally you would ask how’s the wife? How’s the husband? BUT...you don’t because you don’t want to be standing there drowning in the awkwardness.

So there it was...the awkwardness right there right in front of me inviting me to jump inviting`...telling myself, whatever you say don’t ask about his wife or that you heard about the divorce.  Say ANYTHING but that.  

So of course I just blurt out the first thing I was thinking...”OHMIGOSH, you are soooooo 

skinny!”  Yep you see he was always this big buff dude, not at all fat, just a big muscle-ly dude.  And as if that wasn’t enough, I blurted AGAIN, “well, not that you were ever fat, you know, you just are sooooooo skinny!”  And then with his big bulging biceps right at my eye level, I bust out with “and your arms! Your arms are HUGE!”  Yep, when I first saw him standing there I thought, “is this dude hitting on me?” and wow how the tables turned. There I stood apparently hitting on him,  over and over like a CD on repeat, “YOURE SOOOO SKINNY AND YOUR ARMS ARE SOOOOOOO BIG!”

Out of pure desperation to stop myself from the continual embarrassment, I said the one thing I wasn’t supposed to say.  You guessed it....”I heard about you and ‘Susie’ and I’m really sorry.”  After the initial shock of it just flying out of my mouth, I just stood there nodding my head as if I was offering condolences.  He responded with, “yeah well there’s nothing I can do about it.”  Really??? That’s all you got? I don’t suppose you could respond with “yeah, thanks”.  I mean I just stepped up this uncomfortable convo with bringing up the taboo subject matter and you raise me “there’s nothing you can do about it?”  I mean work with me fella...I’m obviously dying here.  Can you not say “thank you” followed by “well it was good to see you, tell your hubs I said hi” and then walk away?  And let me interject that my friend (the totally useless wingman) was still standing next to me watching in horror but never throwing me a lifeline.

And finally I ended with “how’s your job, are you still at the same place?” having no idea what he did for a living but acting like I knew everything about him.  “Yep, still at the bank.”  

“Oh yeah the bank” I responded suddenly remembering...I hope he didn’t catch on.  

So, in the end I hope I made his day. 
Maybe I made him laugh out of my humiliation, maybe he left feeling really good about himself with his skinny bod and huge muscles, or maybe like me he was just relieved to be out of the conversation.

The moral to the story:

If you ever see me at the gym just act like we don’t know each other for my sake and for yours.

L. 

What?!? No Coffee?

I expected to sit down with my laptop and my hot cup of caffeine, only to grab my cup and search the cabinet desperately to realize we were out of coffee....I would like to tell you that I was strong enough to persevere but that would be a lie. Too lazy for the grocery store, I made a run through Starbucks with a little spiderman in tow. 
I have had 2 very short night's sleep.  Going to bed too late and my alarm still goes off same time every morning in the form of an almost 4 year old asking for milk.  There was a time when weekends were restful.  When my kids were younger and I spent my days in pajamas longing for activities to do outside of the house which would require brushing my teeth and wearing clothes that matched.  But those days are over.  We are still rookies in this season of spending too much time in the car, driving from one practice to the next, and studying for tests while waiting in the drive-thru line.  In comparison to my friends with older kids, I am not busy...but it is such a change of pace from the previous 9 years, it feels crazy.  And now I think my daughter is feeling the effects.  Last night, we had less than 10 but more than 1 breakdowns.  She missed me.  She felt like we hadn't spent any time together in weeks.  At first I can honestly tell you I wasn't that compassionate.  We had left them with a sitter ONE night.  But I don't leave my kids that much...so I thought she was being a bit dramatic (runs in the family).  Nevertheless, I sat with her, held her, loved on her until she spilled it. 

"Mom, we have been together but we are always doing school work or in the car and you are talking on the phone."  OUCH.  She got me.  We haven't spent time engaging with each other.  I have been so preoccupied with my checklist with each of my kids, I have been neglecting their hearts.  The most important thing.  Listen, I am not getting down on myself or you...I'm a great mom and I'm sure you are too.  I am not going to stop talking on my phone...that would be ridiculous.  I have family and friends that I love and also want to engage with and a lot of that happens in those phone calls.

I also know that I am pretty good at engaging with my kids...could I do better? OF COURSE! 
But the tiny girl in my house is right.  The last few weeks...I got lost.  And I am happy that she is here to remind me.  And boy did she!  Weeks worth of her heart stirrings came pouring out and we just laid there...giggling, shedding a couple of tears, encouraging each other...yes she is a gifted encourager.  And then praying...teaching her how to pour her heart out before God...how praying helps relieve the burden that you were never meant to carry.  

And then of course, He whispered to me..."engage with Me"..."talk to me and that burden will be light".   Using the words I said to my daughter, to remind me... to pull me closer.  He sits in anticipation waiting for me.  Me going about my day, listening to worship music, reading my devotional but yet not truthfully ENGAGING with Him.  Laying my heart before Him...crying out to Him.  Not trying to talk myself out of feeling the pain.  But feeling it...all of it, while sitting in His lap.  Don't despise the pain you feel, for the great benefit He is working in your heart.   And I do despise it.  I'm working on it.  It's hard, but I am moving through it...His lap is the place to do that.  He's a good Father.  You can trust Him even though it may hurt.  He knows what He's doing.  He has always been faithful.  He has never given me a reason not to trust Him. so that is what I will do.

Until next time,
L.

A Little Fat and A Lot Happy

I work out.  Not crazy though.  But I do.  I also eat.  A lot.  I love food.  I tell my friends that I'd rather be a little fat and happy than super skinny and miserable.  I mean, yes of course, I want to be fit.  I feel so much better when I workout.  I know I did something good for myself.  I also want to be conscious of what I feed my body.  I believe it's important not just physically but even more important spiritually.  But very recently, I have had several convos with a friend.  About focusing more on overall health than what we will NEVER look like in a bikini.  This post is dedicated to her because she awakened something in me that has been sitting and stirring in my heart for a very long while.  

I mean, where did all the HOT MOM talk come from.  And what does it mean?  The whole MILF movement has got me thinking,  when did we shift so much of the focus to ourselves and what we look like on the outside and ignore what is going on in our hearts?  I'm not preaching here, I am speaking to something that has been going on inside of me.  I love to feel pretty, dress up, I love fashion...even though most of my days are spent with no makeup and in workout clothes regardless whether I made it to the gym.  I want to take care of myself because I want to be a good steward of what God gave me...a body that needs to be nourished, but not leaving my inside to ruins.  

Mark 8:36 says "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul?"

In the same way I have been wondering what does it mean if I look great in a bikini but I have no value for others?  If my body is great (by the world's standard) yet my heart is an unhealthy mess?  

Can we have both? ABSOLUTELY!  

But in the end, my body will return to dust just like it began.  And I want who I was (not what I looked like) to have mattered. 

I am going to wear my lipstick, eat salad, dress up, and workout...but I am going to FOCUS on leaving a legacy of LOVE on the earth.  

L.








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Being Excellent at Being Mediocre

Do you remember when I said this I would not be sharing my craftiness??? That would be because I am what you would call craftiLESS.  I don't really enjoy "projects".  I am like anybody else though, I do love the IDEA of them.  But to be honest, I am not a great finisher.  I get excited but after the first 10 minutes I get bored and impatient and ready to see the finished product.  My house is full of half-finished pinterest ideas which does make for great banter between the man of the house and myself.  

Today is not really a project though, it's more of a craft I guess.  But annoying nonetheless.  My sweet kindergartener came rushing out of school today busting at the seams that he is Star of the Week next week.  I jumped up and down on the outside but inside I was thinking well, there goes my nap!  To the store we go to pick up stickers, poster board, and finding pictures...realizing I don't have any photos printed of him since he was 18 months old.  I mean, it is the iphone age...I miss the days of FILM (I am THAT old).  In the good ole days you had to print your photos if you wanted any memories.  I'm not really a self-motivated person so those days worked better for me.  I will not be competing with the moms who love to go "all out".  My kids are comfortable with my mediocrity.  So slapping on a Captain America sticker and some not so recent photos will have to do.  And when I bring the treats to his class, I assure you the store bought cookies are sufficient and the juice boxes will just look like ordinary juice boxes...or I guess I could slap a sticker on those too if I'm feeling super creative that day. 

I know some moms really enjoy doing the little extras for their kids.  I am all for it, and I will cheer you on every step of the way.  In my house, the little extras are sneaking one kid out for ice cream on a school night after the others go to bed.  I love the little people in my house and I, just like any other mom, want them to feel special and celebrated...and they will...even with my sub-par skills.

L.

Here Goes Nothin'

Yes I know, I am waaayyyyy late to the party but I am showing up anyway.  I really wanted to name this blog "Fat and Happy" but to my dismay, that title was taken.  I stole "satchels of gold" from where else? One of the "real" housewives.  I will spare you any explanation due to such explanation confusing you but I will say that I have implemented this little saying with my kids when trying to distract them while removing a splinter or cleaning up scraped knees.  While they are pleading with me to just leave the splinter in, I just yell out "satchels of gold" to which they stop mid-cry and stare at me in confusion...long enough for me to get the job of doctoring done.  

So, here goes my trek into the blogosphere...like any self-respecting narcissist I think I have something to add to the world.  A little (or LOT) crazy, some funny, and maybe just maybe make someone out there feel better about themselves after comparing herself to me!  I will not be crafting, or offering tips on how to turn juice boxes for your kids school parties into sharks or school buses.  I hope to make you laugh and distract you for a moment from the joyful yet insane days of changing diapers, cleaning food off the walls, and not keeping it "all together" while keeping it all together.  

L.