As I look at my blog, I think to myself, "Really? It's been over a week since you had anything to write about? How can a person think they are passionate about writing when they never even take the time to do it?" Then I stop and look back over my week and realize God is working to change me. When change is occurring, that takes time and thought and can be utterly exhausting!
God is working to change me from the inside out. He's working to change my eating habits. He's working to change the way I handle anger. He's working on my priorities. He's working on my relationships. He's working on me. I am so grateful that I have a God who believes in me and offers me grace and carries me through each day.
I've always said God is my everything. My current challenge is this: "Am I living it?" "Does my life say that God is my EVERYTHING?" Actions speak louder than words.
Sometimes a person has to take time to listen before they actually have something worth saying.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Child's Play
Playing with my kids is not a natural response or desire. I always have something that I feel needs to get done and honestly, I'm just not wired that way. Just about anything sounds more enticing to me than entering their world of innocence and make believe. I love my kids and enjoy them thoroughly but child play is often left to my husband.
I have friends who find time daily to play with their children. I'll read their Facebook statuses about how they took their kids to the park, spent time painting inside on a rainy day or baked cookies with them. These women know the light-heartedness experienced when they seize the moments and find enjoyment in playing with their child.
The past couple of days I have stopped and shared in the fun of Play-Doh with my toddler. I suppose that I may be deceiving by painting a mental picture that I "shared the fun". My motivation was more likely that Play-Doh was the only way I could distract my screaming child from hanging on my leg. It was almost a welcomed relief. When we opened each container we found that the once fresh and separated colors were now lumpy and blended. This is a sign of the fun the kids normally have with their daddy. I actually found myself attempting to reseparate the colors between cutting fun shapes out for my child. Maybe Play-Doh just wasn't a good choice for an attempt at child's play.
When my middle child begged me to play a game of Chess with her, I found myself attempting to get out of it by responding with, "I don't really know how to play." "That's okay," she assured me. "I will teach you cuz Daddy taught me." Seeing as how I had just spent time consoling her over the fact that her daddy took her sister to play Chess for a school activity she incorrectly assumed she would get to be a part of also, I didn't have the heart to outright tell her "no". I attempted to entertain my little one with Play-Doh as I listened to my preschooler instruct me on the rules of the game of Chess. While I honestly do not know exactly how to play chess, I did know enough that I was going to have to get over my hang-ups about "following the rules" immediately or this was going to be a miserable experience for her. I quickly caught on to my 4-year-old's "rules of the game" and played along until my king was "captured" and she could claim victory. Sadly, I was relieved that I could now declare it "bath time" and get on with the next task.
I think that I am possibly a little too uncomfortable with disorder and fun. I claim to be the "responsible" one in the family but really maybe I'm just the big dud. I find myself asking a lot of questions lately on how I wanted to be remembered when I'm gone. Do I want my children to be able to say, "Mom kept our Play-Doh like it was new; every color in its original container and she followed all the rules all the time"? I think it is more likely that I would want to be remembered with "Mom took the time to play with me often and showed me I was important enough and loved by setting aside her own expectations and desires."
Maybe there is something to be said for mixing Play-Doh and being creative with making up rules for new games. As a matter-of-fact, I think I'll go join the fun that's be experienced outside right now. I may even agree to play with the sand. Although my urge is to go grocery shopping while I have the opportunity to without the kids.
Change can be good. It's just a tough one for me to embrace.
I have friends who find time daily to play with their children. I'll read their Facebook statuses about how they took their kids to the park, spent time painting inside on a rainy day or baked cookies with them. These women know the light-heartedness experienced when they seize the moments and find enjoyment in playing with their child.
The past couple of days I have stopped and shared in the fun of Play-Doh with my toddler. I suppose that I may be deceiving by painting a mental picture that I "shared the fun". My motivation was more likely that Play-Doh was the only way I could distract my screaming child from hanging on my leg. It was almost a welcomed relief. When we opened each container we found that the once fresh and separated colors were now lumpy and blended. This is a sign of the fun the kids normally have with their daddy. I actually found myself attempting to reseparate the colors between cutting fun shapes out for my child. Maybe Play-Doh just wasn't a good choice for an attempt at child's play.
When my middle child begged me to play a game of Chess with her, I found myself attempting to get out of it by responding with, "I don't really know how to play." "That's okay," she assured me. "I will teach you cuz Daddy taught me." Seeing as how I had just spent time consoling her over the fact that her daddy took her sister to play Chess for a school activity she incorrectly assumed she would get to be a part of also, I didn't have the heart to outright tell her "no". I attempted to entertain my little one with Play-Doh as I listened to my preschooler instruct me on the rules of the game of Chess. While I honestly do not know exactly how to play chess, I did know enough that I was going to have to get over my hang-ups about "following the rules" immediately or this was going to be a miserable experience for her. I quickly caught on to my 4-year-old's "rules of the game" and played along until my king was "captured" and she could claim victory. Sadly, I was relieved that I could now declare it "bath time" and get on with the next task.
I think that I am possibly a little too uncomfortable with disorder and fun. I claim to be the "responsible" one in the family but really maybe I'm just the big dud. I find myself asking a lot of questions lately on how I wanted to be remembered when I'm gone. Do I want my children to be able to say, "Mom kept our Play-Doh like it was new; every color in its original container and she followed all the rules all the time"? I think it is more likely that I would want to be remembered with "Mom took the time to play with me often and showed me I was important enough and loved by setting aside her own expectations and desires."
Maybe there is something to be said for mixing Play-Doh and being creative with making up rules for new games. As a matter-of-fact, I think I'll go join the fun that's be experienced outside right now. I may even agree to play with the sand. Although my urge is to go grocery shopping while I have the opportunity to without the kids.
Change can be good. It's just a tough one for me to embrace.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Easter 2010
Today, my family will come over to celebrate Easter together. This is the third year we celebrate without my dad. Funny how it still hurts. The pain is still so fresh. And yet, it's become part of life. I don't struggle quite as much with the fact that it is truly a reality. I don't attempt to squeeze the topic of my dad into conversations quite as much. It's not crucial to my heart as much anymore that my girls remember my dad. But I still wish he was here.
As we were headed to the Good Friday service last night, I decided to talk with Jaycie about Jesus' death on the cross. I wanted to be certain she understood it as we were going to be partaking in communion and I wanted her to be able to participate.
"Jaycie, do you know why Jesus died on the cross?"
"Yes," she replied quite confidently. "So he can take us to heaven and we can be with Papa and Grandpa."
"That is a nice perk to be able to see Papa and Grandpa again," I smiled as I watched my husband smirk from the corner of my eye.
I felt the need to clarify a little further. "Jesus loved us so much that he died on the cross to take away our sins."
It's really what keeps me going. The fact that we live for something bigger than ourselves. If I don't live for God... If my purpose in life wasn't greater than myself... I'm not really sure how I could face each day. I'm so forever grateful that this world is not all there is. Eternity is what we live for and hope for... with Jesus.
And yes, my darling, Jaycie... with Papa and Grandpa, too.
As we were headed to the Good Friday service last night, I decided to talk with Jaycie about Jesus' death on the cross. I wanted to be certain she understood it as we were going to be partaking in communion and I wanted her to be able to participate.
"Jaycie, do you know why Jesus died on the cross?"
"Yes," she replied quite confidently. "So he can take us to heaven and we can be with Papa and Grandpa."
"That is a nice perk to be able to see Papa and Grandpa again," I smiled as I watched my husband smirk from the corner of my eye.
I felt the need to clarify a little further. "Jesus loved us so much that he died on the cross to take away our sins."
It's really what keeps me going. The fact that we live for something bigger than ourselves. If I don't live for God... If my purpose in life wasn't greater than myself... I'm not really sure how I could face each day. I'm so forever grateful that this world is not all there is. Eternity is what we live for and hope for... with Jesus.
And yes, my darling, Jaycie... with Papa and Grandpa, too.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday
The New Living Translation brought Colossians 2:13 and 14 alive for me tonight:
God made you alive with Christ, for he forgave all our sins. He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross.
Very cool!
God made you alive with Christ, for he forgave all our sins. He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross.
Very cool!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Great Cathedrals
"Our words, like a chisel, are building our children." The comparison of our children to the great cathedrals in Europe by Nicole Johnson in her sketch at the Hearts at Home conference really created a strong mental image for me.
She talked about the fact that so often, we as moms, feel invisible. Our husband will mention that there is no butter on the table and the butter magically appears as though there is a butter fairy. We tell our children over and over again to pick up their toys but it is as though no one can hear us. As she tied this in with the fact that the builders of the great cathedrals are unknown, I found myself nodding my head. "God sees you and the work that you do," she reminded us. "We are building great cathedrals and if we build them well, God may be able to live in them someday."
My children are great cathedrals that I have the privilege of building. My yelling and criticisms are doing the exact opposite of building - they do nothing but tear down. I went home with a determination to change. I returned home to my sleeping girls and shared some of what I had learned with my husband before going to bed myself.
The next morning, my oldest daughter came downstairs a little later than usual due to the "spring ahead" time change. Feeling rejuvenated from the conference and time away, I welcomed her hug and cherished it a little more than usual. My husband chose that moment to hurry her along because they were going to be late.
My initial response was, "Good grief! She just wants to give her mom a hug. She hasn't seen me the last couple of days and you are rushing her away. It won't kill you to leave 5 minutes late. All you need to do is actually drive the speed limit and you'll be there on time!" (I had just told him in a fight - although one-sided - that he drove like a grandpa the week prior.)
"That wasn't nice," he responded calmly.
"YOU'RE RIGHT!" I geared up for another barrage of poorly chosen words to throw at my husband but found God stopping me. "...that wasn't nice." I decided to utilize a little self-control. (I believe self-control is really an oxymoron because I have no control over it. Self-control only works when I allow the Holy Spirit to control me.)
Nikelle chose this moment to comment. "Mommy, are you trying to control your temper?" I believe that this was God's way of affirming that this is the path I should be on. I wanted to celebrate and yell, "Thanks for noticing, baby!"
The kids are watching me all the time. When I hear them talk disrespectfully to their dad, it is only because they are imitating my disrespect. I need to remember that it's not when I yell the loudest that I am heard the most clearly. It's in the day-to-day moments that they hear me most.
"Invisibility is Love's greatest costume given only to its choicest of servants." Nicole Johnson finished. "Wear it well."
She talked about the fact that so often, we as moms, feel invisible. Our husband will mention that there is no butter on the table and the butter magically appears as though there is a butter fairy. We tell our children over and over again to pick up their toys but it is as though no one can hear us. As she tied this in with the fact that the builders of the great cathedrals are unknown, I found myself nodding my head. "God sees you and the work that you do," she reminded us. "We are building great cathedrals and if we build them well, God may be able to live in them someday."
My children are great cathedrals that I have the privilege of building. My yelling and criticisms are doing the exact opposite of building - they do nothing but tear down. I went home with a determination to change. I returned home to my sleeping girls and shared some of what I had learned with my husband before going to bed myself.
The next morning, my oldest daughter came downstairs a little later than usual due to the "spring ahead" time change. Feeling rejuvenated from the conference and time away, I welcomed her hug and cherished it a little more than usual. My husband chose that moment to hurry her along because they were going to be late.
My initial response was, "Good grief! She just wants to give her mom a hug. She hasn't seen me the last couple of days and you are rushing her away. It won't kill you to leave 5 minutes late. All you need to do is actually drive the speed limit and you'll be there on time!" (I had just told him in a fight - although one-sided - that he drove like a grandpa the week prior.)
"That wasn't nice," he responded calmly.
"YOU'RE RIGHT!" I geared up for another barrage of poorly chosen words to throw at my husband but found God stopping me. "...that wasn't nice." I decided to utilize a little self-control. (I believe self-control is really an oxymoron because I have no control over it. Self-control only works when I allow the Holy Spirit to control me.)
Nikelle chose this moment to comment. "Mommy, are you trying to control your temper?" I believe that this was God's way of affirming that this is the path I should be on. I wanted to celebrate and yell, "Thanks for noticing, baby!"
The kids are watching me all the time. When I hear them talk disrespectfully to their dad, it is only because they are imitating my disrespect. I need to remember that it's not when I yell the loudest that I am heard the most clearly. It's in the day-to-day moments that they hear me most.
"Invisibility is Love's greatest costume given only to its choicest of servants." Nicole Johnson finished. "Wear it well."
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