Walking

On Tuesday nights, I have an hour and a half to kill at the soccer fields. I spend about half of this time watching soccer practice and the other half walking a loop around the fields. I go up the stairs to the upper parking lot around the top, down the side, then loop to the far outside of the bottom parking lot- partly to make as big a loop as possible and also because when I started this it was August and the far side of the lot was in the shade- then circle around the back of the fields and end up back at the bottom of the stairs. I will make this loop 3-4 times on a typical night.
Last night, I noticed another lady at the top part of my loop walking the opposite direction. We passed in the middle of the upper parking lot- I noticed she was about my size and walking about my pace. I remember this because I was thinking too bad I didn't know her because we could walk together since we were walking about the same. I made my loop and as I entered the upper lot, I passed her again, I noticed something else. We weren't passing in the middle this time- she was further on my side. Hmm...that didn't make sense. Was she walking faster than me? It didn't look like it. Maybe I needed to pick up my pace a little. So I did. Next loop- same thing. She's even further on my side of the parking lot. What the heck! At this point, I am completely bothered by this. As I loop around again I am wondering how she is going so much faster than me- I knew she wasn't running because she wasn't hot and sweaty enough to be doing that.
Am I really shallow enough to be concerned about someone walking faster than me? Oh yes and not just concerned but starting to feel a little insecure about my own pace. Maybe I am much slower than I think I am? Maybe I am not in very good shape? Maybe, maybe, maybe....
Then in God's infinite grace He let me realize that I was only passing her on the upper lot and not the lower. We were walking different routes- she was taking the inside of the bottom lot while I was swinging to the outside. If we were on different paths, I certainly could not compare our pace! I was so relieved and slightly embarrassed that I had spent the last 20 minutes trying to figure this out.
The real irony was before I noticed her and became completely distracted I was praying about not feeling like I was "behind" in my life with where God wanted me to be. I see others going off to school, writing books, leading mission teams to Africa, and I feel so plain and ordinary. Like I need to "pick up the pace". He is so sweet to me- that He took my neurotic compulsion to compete with another walker to show me a truth for the rest of my life. I am on my own path. You are on your own path. I cannot compare where I am and what I am doing with anybody else- because my path is unique to me. I may pass others along the way that look similar and seem to be doing the same thing, but even though our paths cross repeatedly, I can never forget we are on a different route to our destination. This is so relieving!
Also- as a little side note- since I was taking the outside lot, I was most likely walking faster...not that it matters...I'm just sayin'.

Chicken

Chicken Run is a kids movie about a chicken farm where the chicken's owners decide that eggs are not profitable enough and go into the business of pot pies. The whole movie is about the chickens trying to escape from these horrible owners who are going to eat them. As horrifying as it sounds, it's actually a pretty funny little movie. Halle and one of her friends pulled out the old VHS tape to watch it again this past weekend- yes, VHS still exists and yes, I still have a VCR in my house and no, Fred Flintstone is not running it. As the girls sat eating lunch and watching the movie- rooting for the chickens to be victorious, I found it quite ironic that they were eating fried chicken. The girls would be the first to say the owners were wrong for wanting to kill the chickens but they saw no problem eating the ones on their plates.
Life is like a box of chicken...Just kidding. But more often than I would care to admit, I have loudly denounced something in someone else's life as I sit feasting on the bones of that very thing in my own. Oh that I would get to a place where I can see clearly my hypocrisies and would not rush in so quick to judge others! The Bible calls for wisdom but it says to be wise as serpents, gentle as doves. It's that last part that really needs some work. How is it possible to have the wisdom to see other people's "stuff" and not judge? When we realize, not know it in our heads but way deep down in our guts-realize that we have not only some of the same stuff- but even more stuff- then we can love well. Then we become "chief sinners" like Paul called himself. If we know we are the worst of the worst then we are okay with everybody else's pretty bad. But the only way we can face our stuff and our worst of the worst status is if we are secure in what Jesus says about us.
We are not just loved, but lovely..not just forgiven, but holy and righteous...not just accepted, but favored,...not servants, but children. He sees Himself when He looks at us because He covered all of our "stuff" with His "stuff"- and His stuff is pretty darn good. I will gladly accept who I am -the worst of the worst- for who I get to be..a lovely, holy, righteous, favored child of the King of Kings.

Facial

I went to get a facial yesterday. This is usually a quite pleasant experience- an hour of relaxation and I leave with glowing skin. Yesterday, however, I happened to tell Jan that my skin was looking a little splotchy. Big mistake. She says, very casually, " Oh I have a great treatment for your skin. It's called fire-and-ice." That really should have been enough said but I was so relaxed on the table with the quiet room-no kids asking me for anything, no dogs barking, or phones ringing...You see how I could get caught up. I naively agreed to the treatment and prepared to be pampered. After an hour of intense burning pain I am done. She told me as I left I might be a little red in some spots the next day. That was to be expected since the whole purpose was to get rid of the sun damaged areas on my skin that were under the surface causing the splotches.
I woke up this morning looking like I had been mauled by an alley cat. The right side of my face is particularly bad, apparently because of the sun coming in the car window and hitting that side of my face. It looks like shrapnel sprayed my face with all these red spots and patches everywhere. My daughter asked why I had a black eye. I explained it was not black, it was a "little red", that was all- just ask Jan. What is most disturbing is that I asked for this. I wanted to get rid of those splotches and the only way was to bring them to the surface to remove them.

I have had this same experience with God many times. I tell Him the things I want to get rid of in my life, and He casually says, "Oh I have a great treatment for that..." The things I want gone don't disappear, no- He brings circumstances that draw them to the surface where I can see them for what they are- ugly...very ugly. I would rather the process not go this way. I would like for them to disappear under the surface never to be heard from again. But He knows this cannot be. They have to come out. Then and only then can they be healed. We don't like to wear our flaws and imperfections out in the open for other people to see but if we never face our failures then how can we overcome them? Fortunately we are not alone in this. Jan sent me home to deal with my face but He never sends us on this journey alone. He will face those ugly spots with us and He will heal all those places. He will not let us be put to shame in our broken and frail state. he promises to cover our ugliness with His beauty, our failure with His victory. It is sometimes a painful process, so maybe it is true- beauty really is pain. But with Him it has a purpose and even better- the pain is only temporary and the results are even more impressive than un-splotchied skin!

Raod trip

We had a football game in Augusta last weekend. Brad was out of town, Kenzie was away at a cross-country meet so Halle and I were left to attend and cheer the Knights on, specifically #22. The day before the game I got a text from Brandt asking if a friend of his could ride to the game with me and stay the night with us in the hotel. I asked him if this boy really wanted to ride 3 hours in a car with people he doesn't know? Awkward. No reply from Brandt. When I get home Brandt, taking my question as a "no" instead of just a question, has prepared for me all the reasons why I should let this kid ride. As he is going through this convincing speech about how great this boy is and how much I will like him and what his background is ,etc.. I thought if Brandt only understood that I don't have to know this boy because I know the one asking me. That is all I needed to bring Nate along. I know the boy asking and I love him. It is irrelevant who Nate is and what his personality is like.
We try so often to convince God to answer our prayers with all these reasons we feel are valid. And we forget we are the beloved children. He doesn't answer us because we have convinced Him or because we deserve it- He answers out of love for us. He just loves us. He doesn't do what we want anymore than I always give Brandt what he wants. The point here is the heart from which He responds. Out of an overflow of love and affection for an imperfect child- but the imperfection is not what He notices- He sees that it is His child asking- the child He knows and loves. If we really understood how He longs to have relationship with us we would run to Him and not away from Him. We would long to know Him more- to be with Him more. We would rest in knowing He is for us and He is good and He is not in a bad mood all the time, irritated with our failure. He is a good dad, the best there ever has been.

Lost

This weekend I was in a very small town with 2 friends and none of us were familiar with the area. We were leaving a local restaurant and heading to a church. We were told it was 5 minutes away. It was 6:50. We made it into church at 7:40. Did we break down? Did we stop to help someone? Did we make a pit stop for dessert and coffee? No to all of these. We got lost. Going in a straight line. With 2 GPS systems.

"Wow" is what I'm sure you're thinking. Rightfully so- that is totally deserving of a wow. I actually would not have thought it was possible had I not been in the car. How can you get lost going in a straight line? Well first you don't go in a straight line. You arbitrarily turn and then turn again, and then turn around. Then you ask people walking for directions and they tell you they don't live there. Really? Who comes to Moultrie on vacation? Then you drive and turn some more. Then ask someone else for directions. It all comes down to bad Intel.
First we didn't research ahead of time to know where we were going and we had to rely on locals for directions. Now every person we asked truly believed they knew where that church was and how to get us there. Ironically- the lady digging through the trash for lottery tickets is the only one who sent us the right way.
I see this all around the world. People are searching for direction, looking for the truth. We, the church, should be the "local" authorities on Truth and not just point people to him but introduce them. Sadly, this is not happening. People are getting bad intel. They are running in circles and everywhere they turn is more misinformation. We misinform by misrepresenting. When i was in Guatemala the missionary showed us one of the few evangelical churches in the city, then he told us a young girl in a wheelchair fro one of the local villages used to attend church there. Until the Pastor told her to stop coming because she was a distraction. In her wheelchair. To her, this man represents God. If he thinks she is taking up valuable space in his church and needs to go away- what does this say about God?
I want to run to this girl and hold her and tell her my God is not like that man- He would be pulling her out of that wheelchair to dance. He would laugh with her and love her and heal her. She is precious to Him and He never wants her out of His presence. And I would like to scream at this pastor. How dare he! But then I know I am just like this pastor- broken and afraid. Maybe he's embarrassed that he cannot offer her the healing Christ died for or maybe he really does believe he is too busy to help the sick. I don't know but I know I have misrepresented Christ more often than I have done Him justice. I cannot judge his actions or his heart but I can weep over the hurt of the girl and the man- and the God who wants to heal them both- but they don't understand who He is or what He came to do.
We need good directions so we can give good direction. We have to be healed ourself before we can offer healing to someone else. To say we've heard God can do mighty things is great- but to say He has done mighty things for us is believable. Suddenly we are credible and not just good storytellers. We don't need a GPS, we need an encounter. And you never know- sometimes those encounters come in the most unlikely places or people. Even a lady digging through the trash can point you in the right direction sometimes.

Tight tuck

All right- this is going to be short and sweet tonight. All you older guys out there- stop it with the tight tuck and the pants pulled up to your pits. I do not know when this was ever in fashion but I know it has never been flattering. It elongates the butt to about 5 times its original size (atleast I hope it's not really that size) and shortens your torso to almost nonexistent. Please, for the love of all that is attractive, if you have to hike your pants up (and I really do not understand how guys of all people could find this comfortable), but if you must- then at the very least leave your shirt untucked so the rest of us aren't forced to look and wonder how you can possibly get your pants that high. And if you MUST tuck - why the tight tuck? Must the shirt be jammed so tightly into your pants that it keeps your arms pinned at your side? How about a litle give- a little blousing out? Come on, it's 2010- give whatever decade that was a rest and try something daring...bootcut.

Culture

I realized the state of my life tonight as I had a very serious conversation with Halle about why Nick is my favorite Jonas brother. Even more alarming than the fact that I actually have a favorite Jonas brother is that I can substantiate my preference. Disney is running my life.
I thought back to our summer in New York- seeing Broadway plays and spending afternoons at MOMA, walking through Central Park and Chelsea Market..thinking at the time of all the culture my kids' were being exposed to. Yesterday we went to a local arts festival and they had painted the porta-pottys with famous artwork- classy, I know. We passed one with the Mona Lisa on it and Halle pointed out to her friend- "Look, it's Queen Latifah"...Alarming. The upside is it atleast rhymed with Mona Lisa. But seriously? Is this all I have taught my children? They will be adults and remember discussing Hannah Montana and NASCAR with their mother but have no idea who Michelangelo is.
Our culture shapes so much about us- but it's funny how little we step outside of it and look at what exactly it is making of us. It's not just my kids, but my own life. There are a million things competing for my time and attention- which of these will I let have the biggest voice in my life? Which will I let shape me? Or will I shape my culture? Will I be a force that has an effect on those around me for their betterment? Or will I let myself be entertained to death? It's hard to be counter-cultural and still be relevant. I wish I could find that balance as easily as I can pick my favorite Jo Bro. I think this will be a battle not won in a day but over a lifetime. I pray I keep my eyes and my focus on what has true value and don't settle for art on a porta-potty.

Revenge

Last night we had the collision of two perfect moments at my house. Hale and Brad were wrestling on the couch when it took an ugly turn, like it nearly always does. Her newly pierced ears were bumped by Brad's flailing arms as he tried to avoid her tickling. This resulted in Halle running upstairs in tears and Brad sending me after her since she was no longer speaking to him. This was the beginning.
When I found her upstairs, she was in my bathroom crying and nursing her ears. Since we were beyond the point of reason, I did what any good mother would do when their child has been wronged and suggested revenge. This brought an immediate sparkle to her eye and grin to her face. My idea was toothpaste. I said "Get some on your finger, and go down like you're hugging dad and smear it on him." In my mind, this looked like a pea size amount of toothpaste gently smeared across Brad's cheek. As with most things, though, it did not go the way I imagined.
Before Halle could enact Operation Make-Dad-Pay, Brad came upstairs and laid across the bed. At the exact moment Halle is plotting her revenge, Brad looks at me unknowingly and says,"I've just decided to adopt an I don't care attitude about everything." How appropriate.
So now that he's laying down the hug would be awkward but ever the quick thinker, Halle came up with her own way. She asked me to pull Brad's shirt up like I was going to scratch his back and ever so discreetly block his view of the incoming wrath of Halle-which turned out to be a handful of gel toothpaste (again,not the kind I was imagining as it is a lot goopier and, well, disgusting) smeared all over his back. Gel toothpaste, by the way, is remarkably colder than you might think right out of the tube. Brad eventually catches his breath, finds out what has just happened to him, and asks Halle to get a wash rag to clean it off. I think he was envisioning a warm rag- but again- this would be wrong to assume. Halle throws, literally, an ice cold rag across his back. I really thought he was going to come up off the bed this time.
What is the point of this whole story? I guess the first lesson here would be- don't mess with Halle. Second- it's just a whole lot like life. The moment you decide nothing is going to bother you- something will come along to see if you really mean it.

Giants

Someone said today "When I stand among giants, I feel taller." I thought that was such a great statement. She was talking about surrounding yourself with people that are further along than you- that have something you want in your own life but haven't quite got yet. And I thought how often this has the opposite affect. When you are around people with more money- you get envious. More in shape- you get depressed. More knowledge- you feel foolish.
But when someone has more Jesus- that's a different story. I said more Jesus, though, not more religion. Religion is suffocating and oppressive and makes you feel guilty and worthless. But having more Jesus really just translates to having more freedom- and we always want more of that when we see it. We were created to be free- precisely why the Tree of Life was smack dab in the middle of the garden. The devil didn't put it there- God did. Because He knew if we couldn't choose, it wasn't really love. The whole basis of our life and relationship with Him is freedom- before us is life and death, blessing and curse- but it is always our choice.
And being around people that consistently choose life makes you want to choose it more for yourself. Because they don't choose Him out of obligation or guilt- they choose Him out of love. They realized that they were meant for freedom and He was the only One who loved them enough to give them theirs. So I will stand a little taller among the giants I am lucky enough to know.

Organic

We are going organic at my house as much as possible. We haven't become health nuts by any stretch of the imagination but I am trying to buy organic on the food items that we eat on a regular basis. We are not going to be one of those families that will ONLY eat organic foods for a couple of reasons. The first being- it's just too hard. It's enough of a challenge to plan meals around sports, school, and diabetes- if I narrow my options down to organic only- there would be some hungry people in my house! The second reason is less of a reason and more of a person- Halle Meghan.

Halle is my 9 year old and she is full of sass. Not the disrespectful sass but the I-know-exactly-who-I-am-and-what-I-want kind of sass. And she emphatically does NOT want organic. Specifically- she does not want organic milk. "I do not drink this stuff" she tells me every time I buy it. Now there are many food items I will compromise on- but milk is one that I strictly buy organic. The kids drink too much of it and regular milk has too much junk added to it- plus you really cannot taste any difference. Peanut butter, I understand- you can definitely tell a difference in the taste. But if I poured that milk into a regular container she would never know it was organic. Just the word- organic- grosses her out. "I don't like anything organic" she says, drawing out the word organic, like just saying it might make her sick, emphasized by a very disgusted look on her face. "It's gross!" And I tell her every time that I don't think she understands what organic is. Something that is grown naturally without adding chemicals or being genetically altered is not gross- it's normal. It's how food should be.
But Halle doesn't care- organic is new on the label- she doesn't get it and she doesn't care. It's foreign so it can't be good. It takes away the comfort of her having what she is used to in favor of some unknown thing she doesn't understand. As adults- we see the childishness in this kind of thinking but we rarely notice how often we act the same way. Only not about food- about things that really matter- like people or experiences or new ways of thinking or doing things. It's foreign- we don't like it- we've never seen it done that way before. It messes with our tradition and therefore it messes with us.
I think God is doing a new thing in the church and many people aren't going to like it. He is moving us out of religious duty into intimate relationship- it's a good thing. But we like our duties. We like thinking our 40 day fast can summon the presence of God- it is empowering to think we have that kind of control. But He is shaking our paradigms. He will shake everything away that is based on our works or our goodness. The Cross happened for a reason- because our works and our goodness could never be enough. Our righteousness is like filthy rags- yes, even you 40 day fasters- you are wearing rags if you are not clothed with His righteousness. And the life He wants is something many of us have never seen before- living daily in His presence -unconcerned with what others feel should be our Christian duty because we live to please only Him, to obey Him daily. No formulas, no guaranteed outcomes (I can hear the outcry already)...just daily trusting that no matter what happens- He is enough.
And we balk at this because we lose control- it becomes all about Him and not about us- because like Halle, we just don't get it- not yet anyway. We don't get that this is a much better thing He is offering us. Just ask Him about this shift. Don't take my word on it- ask Him what He wants to do and what it looks like for your life (He's very personal that way- remember- no formulas)
One day, Halle will understand organic is a good thing and will be glad it was something she was offered. We will be the same with Him and His glorious offer to do a new thing.

ill-advised

I went in for an ultra sound the other day and was talking to the tech about all the advances in medicine. He was telling me that soon a doctor in London will be doing robotic surgeries on people in the US or vice-versa. When Kenzie and Regan were little- like 3- Kenzie whispered something into Regan's ear and the response we heard was "I don't think that's a berry dood idea, Tenzie". This was my precise thought as I envisioned lying unconscious on a table, sliced open by a machine operated by someone thousands of miles away...I don't think that's a berry dood idea.
There is a fine line between something being technological advancement and just plain ill-advised. And how do you know when you are the person stuck in the dark ages or the voice of wisdom? I don't know. Sometimes I think we have all this knowledge with very little wisdom but we are compelled to move forward. To try and fail. It's not just the American way- it's the human spirit. God has put in us the desire to create and grow and learn. But sometimes we get a little too big for our britches. (reference the Tower of Babel) We cross the line from creating to control and manipulation- never God's intent. Probably not ours either when we start out, but somewhere we cross the line. We want to end sickness and suffering and death but we can't. We never will. Only a Savior can do these things and we try hard to be our own- but we fall miserably short every time. So do we quit trying? Where is the line between creating and control? Dedication and striving? I don't know- I do know this life is tricky business without laying it all at His feet, letting Him examine the motives of our heart- and it is flat-out impossible without the Only One who can truly save, heal, and deliver.

Backward

Last night marked the kickoff of high school football. Since my son is a freshman- this is a new experience for me. We started at 4 with a pep rally followed by a team meal- then everyone was transported to the field for a 7:30 game that lasted until 10:45. This was a varsity game but the JV team was required to dress out and attend with a few promised some playing time- my son being one of those. He did not get any, not even one minute on the field.

We drove him and one of his friends home and as we discussed the night's game talk inevitably turned to last year's season. Aahh- middle school football, the glory days for Brandt and Sam- the fastest 2 on the team, coaches favorites, teammates heroes...They relived moments and glories until they finally both said-"I wish I could go back! If they would let me I would go back now and show those kids how to play and run the ball!"

Have you ever heard of high schoolers wanting to go back to middle school? High school is a promotion- you're moving forward, growing up. But these boys are longing to go backward. Not that I can blame them on this one. Sitting in the stands for 4 hours and watching kids play you don't even know is not a lot of fun to me, especially compared to watching my MVP in on every play last year. Why does a promotion feel so much like they're going backward?

The Israelites felt the same way when they left Egypt and were promoted to the desert. They left slavery to be free people but then God took them to the desert! What was He thinking? They could have loved and served Him so much better from the Promised Land- but He drags them into the desert without even as much food and water as they had in Egypt. And they tell Him- they are not happy about it- they even decide at some point they want to go back to Egypt!

Brandt and Sam are great athletes and great football players- they will play again regularly. But this season they are learning. No matter how much they want to be- they are not Varsity players yet, not fully. But they can't go back. In their case- they physically cannot go back to being younger. But if they could- they still couldn't- not if they ever wanted to get better than an 8th grade player. They have to be around players that are better than them- they have to learn some new things, become more seasoned- then when it's their turn for Varsity- they will be ready.

We all enter seasons where we feel like God has dropped us into some hole and want to go back to where we were. We think we could do such great things if He would just put us in the game!But sometimes this is part of the process. We need time to learn, to grow, to become more seasoned in His Word and His Presence. Sometimes we have been through a trying season and we just need to rest and let Him strengthen us physically, mentally, or emotionally. Whatever the reason-we need to let God have His way and if we do, I promise we won't spend 40 years in the hole like the Israelites in the desert!

What's happening?

I have noticed a common lament among the people I know- I don't understand what God is doing! So many things are happening in the lives of people that don't seem to make any sense and it is hard to see how God is working when just getting through the day seems overwhelming. We so want to understand and we think if He would just tell us what He is doing or when the breakthrough is coming- then we could hang on, then we could have faith. John 2 verse 22 completely disproves this theory.
Jesus has just turned water to wine and now He's told everyone He can rebuild the temple in 3 days. Wow. This inevitably brings some questions. But the verse after these is what is so interesting. It says after He was raised from the dead , the disciples remembered what He had said- "THEN they believed the Scripture and the words Jesus had spoken." (emphasis mine)
He told them right then and there what He was planning to do but they couldn't comprehend what He was telling them. They didn't get it until he went to the Cross and rose from the dead. I would venture to say that until we go through the death- of whatever it may be we have to die to...our expectations, our ambitions, our desires...we are unable to understand what He is doing. We usually have too much of our own stuff in the way to see where God is going with his stuff. But when we look back we see, THEN we believe.
I think this is beautifully illustrated when Moses asked to see God's glory. You know the story- God passes by and Moses can't see God's face and live but he gets a glimpse of God's back.
We usually can't see where God is, but we can always tell where He's been! True for Moses, true for the disciples, and still true for us. We can't comprehend what His plan is in our situations but if we let Him have His way with us through the death- we will see the resurrection- we will see where He has been. And it has been with us and for us all along.

Wine

Summer is over. The lazy days are gone, replaced by the flurry of fall sports and school activities. Ironically, though, I have more time for reading and writing now that we are back in the swing of things. I have been reading the book of John lately. In the 2nd chapter, Jesus performs his first miracle- water to wine. I always wonder why this as his first? It seems so insignificant and trivial- almost like a parlor trick a magician would do, not the Messiah coming to redeem His people. So I asked Him today as I read- why this? He led me to do a little research.
In the Jewish custom, wine is used to signify the sanctity and purity of the event. It was no accident that Jesus used wine at a wedding for His first miracle considering the great significance wine plays in Jewish life. Wine is used still today in traditional Jewish weddings and the Passover Seder. The Jewish marriage is called "Kiddushin" meaning betrothal or consecration. The Kaddesh is a blessing spoken over the wine at a Passover Seder. Kaddesh means "sanctification" and comes from the Hebrew root "Qof-Dalet-Shin"meaning "holy". Holy sanctification- starting to sound less trivial, isn't it?You probably noticed the similarity between Kiddushin and Kaddesh-this shows the holy and meaningful relationship between wine and marriage to the Jewish people.
I probably don't need to connect the dots but here is one more thing He showed me as I reread the passage. He took the water jars used for ceremonial washing and told the servants to fill them with water. This is so amazing to me! Verses I have read a million times but His Word is so rich we can never exhaust all there is to learn about who He is. He sets the stage with this first miracle for all He came to do! The ceremonial washing that represented the Law and man's futile attempts at making himself clean are taken and filled with His holy sanctification that represented not only His life consecrated and laid down for our salvation but His betrothal to us as His bride. He didn't just come to save us and make us holy but to enter into a meaningful, intimate relationship with us. It wasn't just any wine- it was the BEST wine! He brings us the very best- His very self!

14

Today was my son's 14th birthday. So many things about this day point to how much he has grown. I woke up to a yard full of streamers and signs(thanks to a group of teenage girls that live down the street). I dropped him and a friend off at a water park for the day- the first birthday that involved more time with friends than with family. The gifts are even changing- hats, knives, guns- only now they're not pretend. In a month he'll be starting high school.

But I still get glimpses of the little boy that used to climb up in my lap and ask for a piece of my drink. He went to bed early last night because he wanted his birthday to get here faster. He told me the other day he could tell a kid in our neighborhood was becoming a better person because he had started wearing polos and tucking his shirts in. He saved his ticket stub from last week when we went to see Toy Story 3. He almost knocked my end table over yesterday racing through the house with the dog.

Am I desperately searching for signs of any little boy left? Yes. It is so hard to watch childhood end. It's the beginning of a new phase of his life but it's also the end of one- and it's almost like mourning the death of something. Mostly I'm excited to watch him grow and change but then there are moments I could just cry becuase I want to hold that little boy one more time. I want to look for bugs with him in the yard and race him down the hill and have him stand on the chair in the kitchen to help me make brownies. I want to trip over his matchbox cars and discuss whether a jaguar or a warrior would win in a fight.

I may not get those times again but I'm so glad I have had them. I love my girls dearly but I would not trade those little boy moments for anything in the world. And I know the years to come will hold just as many that are dear to my heart. Happy 14th birthday, buddy.

Yancy

Yancy was 2 years older than me. I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th- but I knew the first time I saw his super tan skin and white-blond surfer hair- he was the one for me. When you live in Florida- particularly in the 80's- there was no look that could beat the surfer look. Alas- we had little contact since my middle school separated 6th grade from everyone else. We were in our own separate building, quarantined from the truly interesting kids- especially the surfers. It was like pergatory- no longer in elementary school but not quite in middle school. We might catch glimpses of the older kids as we passed through the main building on our way to the cafeteria but usually they were behind closed doors locked away in class. But on this day it was as if the stars aligned and fate would have its way- Yancy was sent to the 6th grade building right as we were changing classes. I was in the hallway with my best friend, Molly, as he burst through the double doors- his hair blindingly bright in the sun. Not only was he right here but on this particular dayI had brought my camera to school. It is amazing how quickly two middle school girls can concoct a plan- mere milliseconds and we knew exactly what to do.
We followed him at a safe distance down the crowded hallway carefukl not to lose him( made easier by the hair)- he finally turned and went into a relatively empty classroom- Molly called out "Yancy!" and when he turned around I snapped his picture. Then we ran.
I will admit the last phase of this plan needed a little work- but overall it was a success. He looked like a deer in headlights in the photo but it captured his shiny white hair perfectly. So now I had a picture of him, knew where he went to school, where he lived, I even knew what his dad did for a living ( not hard since he owned the coolest surf shop in town, of course). By all appearances, Yancy and I were pretty tight. Except for one thing- I had never actually spoken to him( something I had effectively secured as permanent since the picture incident).

A lot of us approach our relationship with Christ the same way. We know who He is, who His Dad is, what He likes and dislikes, we have the Book He's written prominently displayed in our home- we can even quote some of the more famous things He's said...but we've never actually talked with Him.We may have prayed a sinner's prayer- never considering He might want more than a confession. He might really want us- not just for us to bow low and profess our unworthiness but for us to move from there into His arms- embracing His worth as our own, His love as sincere.
Mine and Yancy's relationship was short-lived- no surprise. Those imaginary ones usually are. You can't sustain something as intimate as a relationship, be it with God or a spouse or even a child- where both are not fully invested in knowing the other and being known- with all our failures and inadequacies- bringing both what we have and what we lack to the table. Fortunately with God- He is fully invested and has everything we lack.

Puzzles

It is summer and at my house that means puzzles. We spend our evenings and spare time in the afternoons putting together 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles. We do a 4th of July themed one every year and usually one or two others. Brandt and I typically do the majority of the puzzle with a little help from everyone else. For some reason, though, the puzzle we did this time had everyone participating. At one point I left my house with four teenage kids working on this puzzle- not going to the pool or playing video games or watching TV. Each one was working on a different section - one on the buildings, another on the water, someone else on the fountain, and Brandt was piecing it all together. When I got back home- the puzzle was finished. Amazing. Brandt and I can spend a couple weeks working on one- but all of our combined effort produced a finished result in a matter of days.
It reminds me a lot of how the church is supposed to work. We are all working on our section of the "puzzle". We can't always tell how our piece fits in with everything else but we work at it anyway. Fortunately God knows exactly how everything is going to fit together to create what He has in mind. And imagine if, like at my house, everyone would stop with all the distractions and focus on their "piece" how quickly we would see progress. The Bible says "The harvest is plentiful, but workers are few." He needs us to go- not to other countries necessarily- but to our grocery stores and offices and schools and PTA meetings- and see the harvest all around us of hurting, broken people that need The Answer to all their heart's deepest needs. We are important- our piece is necessary for His vision to be complete.

Father's Day

Father's Day is tomorrow. We have celebrated it early at my house because we are having to split the day up somewhat tomorrow. I was thinking about Father's day and how it is supposed to be about dads- but really for my house- it's about the kids. Brad will get a card and a meal and not much more excitement than that. But the very fact that my kids have a dad they want to celebrate is a gift in itself for our home.
Our kids absolutely rely on the fact that he is here- not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually present for them. Sure he hates heights and water and bugs and (at times my kids will say) fun...but mostly he's pretty great. We don't like to tell him too much- I mean, he already thinks he's Iron Man- if his head got any bigger- what would we do? But the truth is- I don't know what we would do without him. Sure we have to clean our own gutters since he won't climb the ladder and I've saved him from a spider on more than one occasion..but he's still our hero. He is the only person in this house that can sew on a button or iron anything or get the printer working when it stops. He's also the only person that knows these kids as well as I do- that shares every memory of their lives with me- that remembers the tree frog jumping on Kenzie's head, Brandt's ER visit the day after Christmas, and Halle's love of the Wiggles. Who else would find recalling all their childhood stories as funny and interesting as I do? Only Brad. As I write he is taking a picture of Halle asleep on the couch. Do you know how many pictures of this child sleeping we already have? But he, like I, finds it perfectly logical to take another because we don't have a picture of her sleeping in this EXACT position wearing these same clothes, do we? Because he is a Father. I know there was a time he wonderd if he would ever be a good one, if he could ever be good enough for our kids- but I am here to tell you ( and most of the time our kids would agree) he is the best dad we have ever known.
So am I giving him all the credit for our home? Umm no- because, of course, it all comes back to my incredible ability to pick a man!

Suffering

"God's love cannot force, constrain, push, or pull. It offers the freedom to reject that love or to love in return. It is precisely the immensity of the divine love that is the source of the divine suffering. God, creator of heavens and earth, has chosen to be, first and foremost, a Father."
-Henri Nouwen

Can I really add anything to that? Nothing but what I have witnessed with my own children, and even that pales in comparison. It is but a shadow, but it's all I've got!
It's amazing when your kids are young how they love you. You can be horribly grouchy to a 3 year old and within seconds they will be back in your arms like nothing happened. Such forgiveness and grace in their innocence. They love you in such a way that makes you want to be worthy of such love and devotion. So you set out to become a better person for their sake. You change and you grow (hopefully) over the years..and so do they.
Then you have a teenager. Gone is the grace and forgiveness! Now after years of taking care of these kids you know the depth of your own love- you knew depth of emotion before when they were young- but now that love has been tested and tried and refined- it has a strength you never knew when they were babies. And the immensity of this love is turned into suffering as they reject your love, your guidance, your affection. Not every day or every moment but with a frequency that breaks your heart. You know somewhere inside they still love you only not as much as they love themself.
Am I giving teenagers a bad rap? Lumping them all in as a bad lot? No- they have many moments when they are absolutely amazing. And I adore the teenagers in my home but that is the crux of it. You absolutely adore these children who will thrill your heart one minute and break it the next. Here is where as parents we are most like our God and most like our children. Trying to love well these that He has given us- we are like Him in His love and His heartbreak. But in the same instant we are the wayward children who delight Him and cause His suffering. Deep inside we love Him, but more often than we care to admit- not as much as we love ourselves. How much sorrow have I brought His heart as I have rejected His love and affection and guidance? I pray my heart will forever be turned to Him- but I rest in knowing that when I inevitably turn to my own way- His love will outlast my hardheadedness!

Poem

I wrote this a while back in the midst of a very difficult time and I thought it went along with yesterday's post. I'm not typically a poet so it's a little rhymey!



The arrow shot into my heart..
"Is God faithful? He is NOT"
The enemy's lie has been believed
My broken heart has been deceived.


Why is He giving others things I need
When I seek and I ask but He won't answer me?
Does He think they deserve more?
Why do I have to ask over and over?
Where do I turn if His love isn't true?
Just bide my time til this life is through?


The enemy's coils around me tighten
My heart becomes more and more frightened.
If His Word isn't the truth,
Then there are no moral absolutes.


I want to live, to be fully alive
But this overwhelming fear is ever by my side-
That God says He loves me but doesn't mean it...
I can't blame Him- I mean, my heart..have you seen it?
It's a mess and divided,
I wish I could hide it.
I strive and I try to make myself pure
But this wretched heart can't manage the cure.
Now I'm stumbling, fighting to take care of myself
I can't give anything to others, I have nothing left.


At the end of myself, I give in to defeat,
The broken pieces of my heart laid at His feet.
My life is a mess
What He'll do, I can only guess.
Be disgusted and angry?
I am laid bare in His sovereignty.
His gentle arms envelop me,
Rocking me, holding me gently.
Where is the anger, the wrath and harsh words?
Why isn't He treating me how I deserve?


His love is so great, my fear melts away
How could my faith ever have strayed?
He is good and faithful, my heart now can see
His answers were there- patiently waiting for me...
Love for my fear, peace for the storm...
All found there in the crook of His arm.
Tucked away in His presence my heart is set free,
Assured in all ways that He really loves me.

Hope

I had a conversation with a friend today about how she has reached a place where she is almost afraid to ask God for anything because she doesn't want to be disappointed anymore. Then I got home and had an e-mail asking for prayer from a family going through a long, drawn out medical struggle with their infant son. The mom said it's getting difficult because every time she gets her hopes up- she gets let down again. I could cry for them because I have so been there. What a miserable place to be where we are afraid to hope!
Hope is meant to be a lifeline for us, but in times like these- it's almost more bearable to just give up. This is why the Bible says hope deferred makes the heart sick. What do we do in these places where we still believe in God- we just don't believe Him anymore? I wish I could offer some formula that I learned through my own experiences that would bring His answer quickly. How do we keep hoping when it seems like He is absent from our circumstances? Brennan Manning talks about "tainted trust" where we have walked in the wilderness for so long that the promised land doesn't even seem real anymore. It's why the Israelites gave up right at the edge of their victory (remember the reports from the spies and the Israelites believed the bad report?).
I am in no way saying that if we just hold on long enough- we'll see whatever answer we're asking for. People lose their jobs, children die, marriages fall apart and quite often it has nothing to do with a lack of faith or perserverance on someone's part. It just happens. It is part of this broken world we live in.
This is where I am learning that my hope has to switch from my circumstances to Truth. It is not a quick-fix or a feel-good philosophy but it is the only thing that will bring peace that lasts no matter what happens. The Truth is that this life and all it's troubles are temporary, that we are living for something beyond our present happiness, and as we struggle through loss and change and disappointment- He is constant. Whether we feel His Presence or not- He is right there. I can only fall into His arms and ask Him to comfort me through the things I cannot understand and cannot change. There are times in our life when believing Him for the miraculous is not a possibility because it seems like just making it through the day, breathing in and out- is a miracle in itself. I do believe He is still healing, delivering, and providing in miraculous ways. But when He doesn't- He's still the same God I love and trust. When I am lying in a heap on the bathroom floor asking Him how I can make it one more day in my present circumstances, asking why it has to hurt so much, asking why He doesn't fix it because I know He can...He is still God. He is not threatened by my fear or my questions- He is not even offended at the smallness of my faith. He wraps me up in His arms and somehow brings me through the things I never thought I would survive.
The beautiful thing about it is that I love Him even more now than I did before it all fell apart. He is faithful and He will redeem all the pain we suffer.

Love

I was watching a ridiculous show tonight where these guys were singing to a girl a song from The Lion King asking her "Can you feel the love tonight?" Painfully embarrassing for them, but it took me back to the first time a boy asked me that question.
I was 19...he was 4. On the way home from Target- he leaned forward from the backseat- sticking his pudgy face right by my seat and as the Elton John version of the song played on the radio, he solemnly asked me, "Aunt B, can you feel the love tonight?" And you know, in that moment, I really could.
Trent is my sister's first child and my first opportunity to be an aunt. I didn't know what to expect when he was born. I only knew as we counted down the days to his arrival- I could hardly wait. I remember borrowing money to go use the payphone(yes, it was that long ago) during lunch to check in with Leigh and make sure I hadn't missed the big event in the few hours I'd been locked away at school. And then when he came- going on mundane errands with her just to help hold him while she was in line at the bank or buying groceries. I was in love.
He was no teeny little thing- starting out at over 9 pounds. And his presence was even bigger. He never slowed down with the growing,either. He was grossly unaware of his size. As he got older and there were more sisters and cousins to play with, Trent never realized how much bigger he was and would squeeze into tiny little spaces during hide and seek that would inevitably end in him being stuck, or more often, him breaking the whatever he squeezed under, on, or between.
But I didn't care that he broke something every time he stepped foot in my house. He was too cute for me to care about stuff that could be replaced.
And now he's old enough to be one of the boys singing to the girl on this stupid show. He's still no teeny thing- hitting right around 6'3" - but he will always be the first boy to really steal my heart and hopefully, for his own sake, I will be the only girl he ever quotes The Lion King to.

Unbelievable

One of my favorite shows in the 80's was the A-Team. My husband says I should never admit this to anyone but after this weekend- I don't feel so bad about it. I sat in a theater full of people that obviously loved this show as much as I did. It took some convincing to get Brad to go with me but he finally caved and we went opening night. I thought it was fantastic. Brad thought it was okay. He took issue with a couple of scenes he found "unbelievable".
I take issue with movie-goers that complain about movies being unrealistic or unbelievable. This morning as we watched a TV movie about talking dogs, my 13 year old son actually looked at me and said a scene where a German Shepherd snapped a rope was totally unrealistic- it would never have snapped that easily. But the scene before where he was talking to the chihuahua was completely believable? Please. The whole reason we go see movies is to see something that is not reality. Frankly, reality can really suck. Happy endings are rare and the story line is never predictable. I enjoy knowing how the story will end- the guy will get the girl- the good guys will win- justice always triumphs- and if I accidentally get one of those waste-of-an-hour-of-your-life movies (ie A Perfect Storm)...it ticks me off.
The scene that bothered Brad so much involved a tank falling out of an airplane with parachutes attached to it and someone hanging out of the top firing the tank. Of course, they landed safely in a lake and went on to accomplish their mission. I think it's only right that they survived the fall because, after all, they are the good guys. Heroes should be able to acomplish the impossible- to survive against all odds to save the day and make some pithy remarks in the process. And - maybe you'll think this is a stretch- but I think there is something biblical about this whole line
of thinking.
Who would think it realistic to send a newborn baby, born to a virgin- mind you, to save not only a nation- but the world? Not very believable. Then He picks as His "Super Friends" 12 losers of His day- fishermen who couldn't cut it in the temple. Hmm...this story line is getting a little flimsy. How are we supposed to believe these guys will turn the whole world upside down when they spend their spare time fighting over who's the most important? I find them very unbelievable as heroes. But then something happens and this is no longer an idea but it's happening.Within three days Christ has overthrown an entire world system and 12 men are setting out to change the world and their only super power is the Holy Spirit. Not even Hollywood would put this story on the big screen. It's craziness. Completely unbelievable.
Yet it's the more true than the "reality" most of us live in. We believe in only what we can see with our eyes or rationalize with our mind. There is a whole thing happening around us- a battle between good and evil- and we don't have eyes to see it. We are clueless and arrogant, thinking our physical senses and our intelligence will take us to the only places that matter- that if it's unbelievable , unrealistic, or irrational- then it's insignificant.
But something calls to the deep places in us- even these movies, if you will. Something that longs to believe the unbelievable- that good will ultimately win- that even the most unlikely can be heroes- even the most unrealistic situation can turn into victory. And that is His reality. It's how He rolls.

Cooper

I love dogs. I always have, probably always will. And if the dog is not very likable- I usually think it can be attributed to its owner more than the dog's nature. Dogs, generally, are loving, selfless animals so long as their needs are met- food, water, security, love... I even believed, until recently, that if a dog had been deprived of any of these things and developed issues- these issues could be overcome with consistently meeting their needs over a period of time. That was 3 years ago that I last firmly held to that belief... 3 years B.C. (before Cooper).

Cooper is our weimeraner. He is a rescue dog that was starving in a metal crate when he was found in about 4 inches of standing water and covered in sores. The rescue group took him in, nursed him back to health, and we adopted him. When we got him- you could still see his ribs and the scars from the sores. But, we firmly believed, love would overcome all and he would turn out to be the best dog we ever had. He was terrified of being put in a crate and if we tried he would wet all over himself and the person maneuvering him into the crate. He was ravenously hungry all the time- even if he just ate. He had separation anxiety and thought he needed to sit on the couch by you and sleep in the bed with you. He refused to go outside by himself for more than the 20 seconds it took him to pee off the side of the porch. He was terrified of the water hose (we think his previous owners would spray him with the hose when he was locked in the crate- probably to keep him from barking- which is why he was found in standing water and why he was terrified of the crate as well). And last, he was completely obsessed with tennis balls.
So 3 years later- what has changed? After eating 2 meals a day, every day, for 3 years- being showered with love and attention from a house full of dog lovers-being walked, played with and surrounded by doggie buddies ( we have 3 others)- Cooper is no longer afraid of the crate. Yes- that is all we have accomplished. He is still hungry all the time- in fact just yesterday he ate a granola bar still in the wrapper while 3 of us tried to wrangle it out of his giant slobbery mouth. We finally gave in and gave him his own chair to keep him off the couch so I consider that a compromise instead of a failure. He still does not want to be outside unless someone is with him (and he has let us know that does not include other dogs). And he is still utterly and completely obsessed with tennis balls. He is the only one of our 4 dogs that makes me want to curse on a regular basis and I am quite convinced he is the most selfish dog that has ever lived (there is a general consensus in our home on this point).
We have discussed getting rid of him- giving him back to the rescue group or tossing him off the side of a building- but there is always a majority that votes the idea down (the members of this majority change from day to day, depending on what Cooper has done to whom). I think because , despite all his issues and selfishness, there is a sweetness to him (it has been debated that this he is just a master manipulator- but we have no verifiable proof) and somewhere deep down we still believe like we did B.C.- that maybe one day love will overcome and he will be the greatest dog we've ever had. Until then, I will bite my tongue and hide the granola bars.

Infomercials

There are things we don't like to admit about ourselves- those embarrassing secrets we hope to take to the grave. I am trusting that , at most, 6 people read this so I can reveal one of mine. I am an infomercial junkie. Not only do I watch them - I am fairly entertained by them- AND I frequently buy the products. I would feel so ashamed except that I typically like the stuff I buy so much I can't feel too terrible about it. (The spaghetti cooker is a definite exception) From exercise programs to beauty products- all you have to do to convince me is put together a snappy little 24 minute program with before and after shots and a B-list celebrity to endorse it- and I will totally believe it WILL transform my life.

I do draw the line on certain things. The kitchen products don't hold a big attraction for me- probably in part because I hate cooking in the first place. No, I usually go for things that I feel like I need- younger skin, something to fix dry, damaged hair, best shape of your life kind of stuff. Our needs can make us vulnerable in ways we could never imagine. With the infomercials, I may just be out a few dollars, but in other areas of life- the consequences of buying into the wrong things to meet our needs are much higher. We see this everyday with people calling psychic hotlines, losing their savings in get-rich-quick scams, or buying into false religions. The course of lives are forever altered because they are chasing the wrong solutions. We have legitimate needs and we are desperate for solutions- but if we aren't careful where we go to meet those needs we end up in a bigger mess than we began with. And we miss the greatest Solution ever given to mankind. Whatever you need- He is the solution. Lonely? He's comfort. Sad? He's joy. Sick? He's healing. Lost? He's direction. He is everything we ever need.

Authority

I am reading a book on prayer and one of the chapters talks about spiritual authority. This is very interesting to me because at times I really don't know what I have authority over. I'm going to have to reread this chapter because I am still not exactly clear on that. It did make me think of something that may be similar, though.
When Halle was little she used my bathroom for everything. We have a garden tub so she liked to take her baths in the "big" tub. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair (on the rare occasions she combed that curly mop), and did all her bathroom duties in my bathroom. On one trip to Pensacola when Halle was about 5, she noticed that all my sister's kids had their own bathrooms. During the car ride home, she said to me how she wished she had her own bathroom. I told her she did, that the bathroom Kenzie and Brandt used was hers too. She said, "Really?" I assured her that, yes, that bathroom was just as much hers as it was theirs and that was the end of that conversation. I didn't think much about it partially because Halle and I have SO many conversations about so many things- she is a chatter. But a day or so after we were home- Halle moved her toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, and her rarely-used hair brush into the kid's bathroom and sat them in drawers and on the side of the tub. She moved in to that bathroom. She never mentioned it to me beforehand to make sure it was okay, and she didn't ask Kenzie and Brandt if they minded. Mom said it was her bathroom, so in her precious little mind- it was HER bathroom.
I think when Jesus talked about coming to Him like little children- this was some of what He was talking about. Oh to have the faith of Halle in what He tells me is mine- what He says I can do! To not look for the approval of man to see if it is acceptable-to not live in perpetual insecurity about whether I misunderstood what He told me. This is the kind of spiritual authority I want to walk in- not presumption or arrogance, not double-minded insecurity...but simple faith that what He says is true and what He tells me to do- I can do.

TV

I was watching some late night TV the other night. It was a very popular pastor that I've watched many times before and I like him, but something always bothers me about his teaching and I can never put my finger on it. He teaches Biblical truth- it is scriptural, but still something about his interpretation always nags at me that it's not quite right. So as I watched , and I did get some good things out of what he said, but I just asked the Lord what bothered me so much about his teaching. And He showed me. This man teaches a self-centered gospel.
Every principle he taught tied directly to our own personal happiness and success. It was not a "prosperity" message so much as it was a be-all-you-can-be message. This is not all bad- we should be all God created us to be but if that is our only reason for entering into this Christian walk- to just become the best version of ourself- we are really missing the whole point. We have bought into a Christian version of all the self-help gurus out there.
I have taught my children from the time they were very young to be kind to other people. Sometimes they are, sometimes they are not. Sometimes they are nice only because I said to be nice. And while it is true that being kind to others can a lot of times benefit you personally- that is not why I want them to be kind. I want them to realize the value each person has- that they are precious creations of their God and He adores them. So we should treat them like they are valuable because they are valuable. The thought being that they will eventually be kind to others because they see the value in them and want to treat them with honor- whether it personally benefits them or not. Because, I believe, if they only treat people well because of what they might get out of it- then that is just a sophisticated form of manipulation. And not at all honorable. And not what I am trying to teach them.
So maybe we start out obeying God because it's what He says to do- but I think at some point He's hoping we get His vision and His heart and we are doing things because it's what is important to Him and not just because it will lead us into a happy and successful life. This self-centered gospel doesn't work because it doesn't exist. If our gospel is self'-centered it is just that- "ours" and has become something we have made - not what God has made. He is anything but self-centered (reference the cross) and His will for us is anything but a life of self-centeredness.(reference any of the disciples)
He says plainly His desire is to be in close relationship with us and for His kingdom to come here on earth. So we have interpreted "His will" to mean whatever sounds good to us. But He again spelled that out clearly,too-His will is to bind up the brokenhearted, to free the captives, to help the poor, release those in darkness, and to comfort those who mourn (Isaiah 61). That's why He came and that's what He told us to do when He left- to finish the work of the One who sent Him. There was no real mention of our personal happiness in all of that. The gospel, if we can simplify it into anything, is not self-centered but others-centered. But even that is not really true because then we can go from being narcissistic and introspective to a self-satisfied do-gooder. Gosh- we can make anything about us can't we? But it's this delicate balance of us being in relationship with Him and doing what He would be doing if He were still here walking this earth- realizing it's all about us and not at all about us.

Water fight

It's amazing how your perspective on things changes as you get older. Like the relative who's super cool working at McDonald's when you're 5 but when you're 19- you don't think they or their career path is quite so cool anymore. Or take today for instance...it was Cobb County's last day of school and everyone got out early with the elementary kids to be the last released. The neighborhood moms made a plan for all the parents, middle school kids, and anyone else who wanted to join in to meet the elementary bus at the neighborhood stop and blast the kids with water balloons, water guns, even hoses as they got off the bus to kick off the start of summer. The kids loved it and spent the next hour fighting back until rain and thunder sent everyone home.
Now, if I were to pull into my driveway dressed in my work clothes, or any type of clothes for that matter, and was met by a mob of people prepared to douse me with water-frankly, I would wonder what I had done to piss them all off. I would not be excited, appreciative, or experience any modicum of joy at all. I think this experience ceases to be fun around 15 if you're a boy and 12 if you're a girl.
So is this maturity or do we just become grouchy old people? Maybe both. We are mature enough to know that wet underwear is no fun at all but too grouchy to make the best of it for a short time. But mostly- we don't have the time and energy it takes to redo our hair.

Novocaine

I haven't posted anything in a few days partially because I have spent a lot of time at the dentist. There's really never a good reason that follows that statement- something is almost always wrong if you are making repeated trips to your dentist's office. And my time there was no exception. They've gone very high tech now with all their fancy gadgets and TV's in every cubicle but you still have to wear those lame sunglasses to protect your eyes from what I guess are ultra-violet death rays coming out of that little lamp. And then they pulled out these 1980's headphones(with all this technology has no one mentioned to them earbuds?) so I could listen to the TV while they did what sounded like building demolition in my mouth. It was all very pleasant. When it was time to leave, the hygienist told me to be careful because that whole side of my mouth would be very numb for a few hours- apparently some people forget this? Or just don't care so they end up biting their cheek or tongue and have this mangled mess in their mouth when the anesthesia wears off which is more painful than the work they had done.
I had a lot of time to think about my numb mouth because I am fortunate enough to be one of the few people who are very sensitive to novocaine and instead of being numb for a couple of hours- my mouth stays numb for the entire day. Lucky me. But as I thought about how easy it would be to accidentally hurt yourself with no feeling in your face- it occurred to me that this happens all the time in everyday life without any novocaine at all.
We all go through things when it seems like the pain of it is too much to bear and I believe a lot of those times God will, like any good physician, give us enough of His grace to "numb"us up. Not that we won't feel it by any means, but He gives us what we need to endure with the goal being to eventually overcome. But sometimes we get stuck in a cycle of trying so hard not to feel anything as we go through that we start to self-medicate. Maybe drugs or alcohol but maybe not. Maybe a job or a hobby or taking care of somebody else or shopping or eating or exercising...we're a creative bunch so we can come up with all kinds of things to keep from dealing with what is really going on in our lives. And it works so we keep on doing it- maybe even for years, until one day- we have to wake up and deal with the mangled mess we have created while trying to avoid the original pain. Because when we're busy numbing ourselves- we can't feel what we are doing to those around us or even ourselves and we inevitably do damage we never intended.
I can tell you that the pain you think you cannot bear- you can if you let Him in the pain with you. The things you think you cannot face- you can if you let Him face them with you. He is faithful- not because He's God and He has to be but because He is who He is and He loves you even in your numbed up state making a mangled mess of everything. He loves you no less in your mess. (that rhymed and it was a total accident! but I like it- it's a good motto!)

Unfair

I have been accused by my one of my children of being unfair...that I create rules for this one that I don't have for the others. This child contends that they are treated differently from the other two. And what is my answer to these trumped-up charges? Probably so. (if you are familiar with Danny Silk you will particularly appreciate my answer)
See- I have already said that I do not enjoy a lot of structure which naturally lends itself to a home without a lot of rules. Any rules we do have serve a specific purpose. For instance- Brandt has rules about video games- what games, how long, and what times because he plays video games frequently enough that he needs some guidelines concerning them. The girls do not so they have no video game rules. If I made our rules a one-size-fits-all we would end up with a mess.
I think there are times the Lord tries to parent us the same way and we react with the same response as my child-"You are unfair and treat me differently than everyone else- no one else has to do (or NOT do) this!" I mean there are, obviously, rules He has put in place that are for everyone. What I am talking about is the not so black and white stuff- the gray areas as we like to call them. The places He calls us to do things differently than people around us- even Christian people.
I will give an example from my own life (I will use one that I actually obeyed the Lord on as these examples are more rare than the times I disobeyed) He put it in my heart at a very young age not to drink alcohol. Even as an adult- I still feel just as strongly that this is what He has asked me to do as I did when I was younger. When people find this out- especially non-Christians -it always brings the inevitable question- "Do you think it's a sin to drink?" First- the good thing for everyone is- I don't get to decide if anything is a sin or not. Second- maybe this comes from being a Christian a while- but I'm really not much concerned with whether something is a "sin". I'm more concerned with what He thinks than what I can analyze and try to justify having in my life. I just know He has told me this isn't good for me and I have to trust He knows what he's talking about. I know with my own kids, like Brandt's video games- I don't put rules in place unless they need them. So if He's telling me I should stay away from alcohol- it's probably because He knows this might be a problem for me.
Drinking may not be an area He has spoken to you about- and that's what I love so much about Him. He is so very personal. He is not a one-size-fits-all God. He knows us each individually and while His holiness never changes, His goodness never falters, His righteousness is never diminished- He calls us to areas of holiness individually in our lives and if we will only listen we'll realize it's more about protecting us than Him. Our desire should be for His glory to be known but His desire is for relationship with us and for that to happen- He wants to keep us from all the things that stop us from being close to Him. I don't limit Brandt's time on video games because I hate games or want to show him who's in charge. I just don't want to lose him to a virtual reality- I want to see him, talk to him, laugh with him- I want him to enjoy real life outside of that little room- playing sports, hanging out with friends...I want better for him than what those games have to offer.
The Lord loves us in the same way, only a million times more. If we would only let Him father us-" ..how I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing..."(Matthew 23:37) Oh that we would be willing! He is so good - even in His unfairness- He is so good! But most of the time we are unwilling and we plunge ourselves into activities and habits He never meant for us and we move further away from the person He created us to be and the relationship He created us for. How many times have we broken His heart? How many times has He shown us a better way only for us to tell Him He's unfair and head off down a path of our own making? I'm sure more times than I can count in my own life. But He keeps calling- keeps pointing me back to the path He had in mind because He wants my obedience- He wants my trust- but more than all of that- He wants me, my whole heart moving through life fully in His presence .

Revisiting bath time

I know I just talked about this a couple of days ago but I need to put to rest any thoughts that I might have been exaggerating. Last night- both the girls were at a friend's house in the back of the neighborhood and Brad and Brandt were in the middle of a MLB 2k10 tournament- the perfect time to take advantage of the quiet and take a bath. I slipped upstairs and no sooner had I turned the water off- I hear the front door open, the girls walk in and Kenzie say"Dad- where's mom?" (I am not making this up) How they knew I was in the bath when they weren't even in the house is beyond me- but they have like a sixth sense for this, I'm telling you.
Well, Brad read my last post about the bath and was slightly offended at his being portrayed as one who is not sympathetic with my battle for quiet time- so he begins to talk to Kenzie and tries to distract her from coming to disrupt the bath- but see- and here is the rookie mistake he makes..he doesn't realize Kenzie's not the actual attack on the bathtime...she's just the diversion.
While he's busy "stopping" Kenzie- Halle sneaks up the stairs and before Brad even knows what's happened- I have had an entire discussion on Halle's current hairstyle and how it can be better fixed in the future and am in the middle of reliving her cheer exhibition from that day.( Did I miss the exhibition, you ask? No- I made my third trip to the school yesterday just to see the cheerleaders perform. This is more like a highlight video without the actual video.) We are into cheer number 3- Brad's favorite, according to Halle, when Brad finally realizes his line of defense has been compromised. (I think it was the incessant jumping up and down on the hard woods upstairs that gave it away)
See, we're the parents and we think if we work together- we can win- but we can't. It's an exercise in futility- it just wears us down to try. I will never have an uninterrupted bath time. I have accepted this. When the kids leave home, you say...but I know better. They're little bathtime terrorists and they will use any means necessary- they will drop in to visit or call with an emergency (like how to make a grilled cheese sandwich or what to do if you've turned all your white laundry pink). They will stop at nothing.

Summer

Today is my last homeschool day of this school year. I cannot adequately express with words how I feel when a school year ends. Ecstatic? Is that too strong a word? No- maybe not strong enough. I would blame it on the fact that we homeschool part of the time but really it's not even that. I have always, always loved summer. I thought when I grew up- I would move on to loving more sophisticated, grown-up seasons like fall perhaps. But it didn't happen. I still absolutely love summer.
I read an article about how moms hate summer after the first 2 weeks because they want to be back on a schedule, in a routine. Not me. I actually have discovered after trying to grow up and be a "normal" mom that I do not really like a lot of structure- no matter how hard I try. I love staying up late, putting together puzzles, watching movies. I love not having anywhere to go except the pool or the park. I love being able to pack up and leave town if we feel like it at the last minute. I love the sound of kids running in and out of my house all day (although this is not much different during the school year). I love flip flops and tank tops. And I love the sound of the ice cream churn whirring on the porch. This has always been the signal of the official start of summer- the first batch of homemade ice cream.
The big debate these days in the school world is year-round school. Educators love it, students hate it. I know if we ever make the switch to year round school I may need medication. I think summer should start Memorial Day and end Labor Day. I mean- isn't that what those holidays are really for? To signal the beginning and end of summer? I cannot imagine summer lasting a mere 6 weeks. Year-round school to me is like the death of the summer season. But now with school budget cuts, Cobb county is actually cutting school days- we are up to 5 right now. So for atleast another year- I am saved from the threat of year-round school, but more than that- summer is safe.

Bath time

As a mom there is very little down time in my life- atleast any that doesn't involve kids anyway. Years ago I decided the best way to get a few minutes alone would be to take a bath - kind of de-stress, have a little quiet time, and pray. The plan was to slip off to the bathroom close to bedtime and while Brad put the kids to bed, I would have my 20 minutes alone. That is rarely how it has gone.
On one evening when Brandt was about 4- I was very pregnant with Halle and we were down to one working bathroom. Brad had taken him off to bed and I was just settling my very large self into the tub when there was a frantic knock (more like beating) at the door. Brandt was yelling he HAS to come in- he HAS to go to the bathroom (remember we only have one)- so I do my very best with what seemed like tiny wash rags (really I think they were normal size- they just seemed tiny in proportion to my oversized preganant self)- to strategically cover areas and let him come in to use the bathroom. He burst through the door and in his hurry- his aim is off and he pees on me. Very relaxing.
It seems that whenever the kids hear the water running- it's like the Bat-signal for them to come running. Brandt went through several years when he was younger that whenever I took a bath he wanted to be in my bedroom playing some video game with lots of gun fighting. There is nothing quite so relaxing as heavy artillery fire in the next room.
Halle, however,will not settle for being in the room next to me. She wants to be right there in the bathroom with her, usually dirty, feet hanging in the tub. I can have worship music on, my devotional out- and she will just plop herself right down on the edge of the tub- put her feet in and as my water turns a murky brown from the dirt - she will launch, undeterred by the music or me reading, into a very important conversation about whatever is very important to her that evening. Last night, she stopped the converastion long enough to let me know the rag I just used to wash my face is the same rag she used the night before to clean her feet after the garage sale.
Nice.
And we can't forget Kenzie- she wants to have entire conversations with me through the bathroom door while the water is running which go a lot like this : " Mom..MOM."..."What?"..."Can I mmm gggrrrr pllllp?" "What?" "I said...nnlll to pppll?" "What
?? I CANNOT hear you?! Open the door!" to which she will finally open the door "I said can I go online and buy a pair of shoes?" "Kenzie, can this not wait 20 minutes?" "MOM- they only have one pair left in my size!"
It is amazing the things that become absolute emergencies once I am sitting naked in a foot of water. And where- you ask- is Brad during all this? I have asked myself the same thing. I mean, this started with him putting the kids to bed, right? But they are obviously not in bed since they are all in or near the bathroom with me. All I can figure is what has started out as "me" time has turned into "Brad" time. He's no dummy- he knows that water is like a magnet for those kids and I think as soon as he hears it- he's off doing who knows what because he knows as long as I'm in that tub he's got 20-30 minutes of undisturbed quiet.

Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. I have spent most of the day being catered to by my wonderful family and have been asked repeatedly what I want to do. How nice would it be if every day was like this one? Or would that just get really old?
There is a line in a song that says "We're all caught up in pretending that what we're seeking is the Truth- but we're all looking for a happy ending"... I think this is painfully true, especially in our culture. We sit in our churches and say we are Truth-seekers-We tell God we want more of Him, we want His purpose in our lives and then things don't go our way and we cry like a petulant child and call His character and His very affection for us in to question. We want things to go well for us and that is more important to us than Truth most of the time.
Somewhere I think our theology has mixed with our American culture and we believe God's will for us IS the American dream. Successful careers, happy families, all our physical needs not only met but met in excess with most of our wants fulfilled as well- then we will be a shining light to our community, His hands and feet to those in need. Living life as Christ would have us is the icing on the cake of our lives. And if it's not happening that way for us- if success eludes us, or our kids are struggling, or our health is failing- what happens to our theology? We either decide that none of these things are God's will or we are doing something to screw it up and keeping God from blessing us like He surely wants to.
Both lines of thought are dangerous and poor attempts to interpret Christ through our circumstances instead of intrepeting our circumstances through who we know Christ to be. If His will for us is merely for us to be happy and live pleasant lives- things would have gone much better for His disciples, I would think. I believe He has something much deeper and much more fulfilling for us than just a nice life. I do not pretend to be an expert here- just someone who has had their foundation shaken to the point that some of these externals have had to fall away and the only thing left in places is Him. I can no longer measure my worth based on the results of my parenting, the amount of savings in the bank, or how well I take care of myself (health-wise). Over the last few years I have seen how easily these things can be gone and I have run the gamut between guilt and anger many times over and where I have ultimately landed is, fortunately, the only place that matters- His arms. Have I made mistakes? Oh my gosh, yes. Have I caused all this stuff to happen? No way. Has God? I wager again to say, no way.
So if this is not God's doing and I didn't screw it all up- what is the answer? I say with full confidence, I don't exactly know. I know life happens to everyone. We don't know what ours will hold and most of it is completely out of our control- we can pray, we can fight, but most importantly, we have to trust. Trust the One who made us, who loves us, who knows us. And know that His will and our idea of His will may be worlds apart. The American dream is alive and well, but may not be His best for our lives. It most definitely sounds the most appealing- but will it make the biggest difference to those around us? Not every season of our lives will be a difficult one but when it is-Maybe we get something that is bigger than the American dream- maybe we get His vision, His dream.. Maybe we live for Him through pain and trials and difficulty- and the beauty He brings out of our lives is the icing on the cake.

Carpool

Yesterday was my day for carpool. This is not something I think anyone particularly looks forward to primarily because of the huge chunk of time it takes out of your day.I met at CFA at 5 to pick up everyone then drove across town to drop off the first group at football practice, stopped for gas, then headed about 30 minutes the other direction for the next drop-off, then grabbed fast food for myself and headed back to watch the rest of football and bring the boys home. Not the most rewarding way to spend your night but sometimes,like last night, it pays off.
I was driving Brandt and two of his friends home from their second week of JV football practice. The boys were unusually talkative as they relived moments from practice- the good and the bad. They all agreed they couldn't wait until next year when they wouldn't be freshmen anymore and they would know all the plays. Talk soon turned to last season on the middle school team and how awesome they each were at their respective positions. I would give anything to have had this recorded. It was so funny- I mean, the testosterone was just flowing in that car! But then one of the boys said something that, besides being ridiculously funny, was actually quite profound.
They were talking about different plays from the games they played last season- incredible interceptions, unbelievable touchdowns, amazing tackles,..and Connor says"Yeah- the best play of the season for me was in that game and only me and my dad remember it." Now we are all dying laughing, thinking if it was so incredible- how come you two are the only ones who remember it? But he is dead serious and goes on to explain how even in the highlight video- you see Brandt running the ball for this awesome touchdown and off to the side you can see a giant kid that was coming to take Brandt out- get tackled. You don't see who tackles him or how- but the tackle is made and Brandt breezes into the endzone unobstructed. Then you hear the crowd, the team, the coaches yelling "Way to go, Brandt!" But the kid who made that touchdown possible was Connor and nobody noticed...except his dad.
I thought about that all night. Connor laughed as he told us that story and we laughed with him because, frankly, it was funny, especially when Connor told it. I was pretty amazed by the whole thing, though, considering how much we all are dying for affirmation and recognition most of the time. He would have loved everybody to notice what he did, but it was enough that his dad saw and they could relive that moment together.."Do you remember, Connor, when you took out that kid twice your size, to save the touchdown and help win the game?..Man, that was awesome." Some of us don't have those kind of dad moments from childhood and we envy Connor because he does but what's worse than missing out on those past moments is living your entire life and missing out on these moments with your Abba Father. He sees everything you do that feels overlooked and unnoticed. He says "Do you remember- when you did more than was asked of you, loved more than necessary, forgave when no one was sorry, gave more than you had to give? That was so awesome!" He sees, He knows and He loves us so so much. He is a Dad like no other and He never misses a moment. We can say with confidence- "My best moment of the season and only me and My Dad remember it" and like Connor, if we really know our Father's love for us, it will be more than enough.
**(As an added note for anyone who read my last blog- Brandt forgot his football helmet when we left practice last night- he did,however, remember his shoes.)**

Brandt

Brandt is my 13 -almost 14-year old son. He is an incredible kid- extremely athletic, off the charts smart, compassionate, funny...but he is also forgetful. I don't know how you can be so incredibly smart and forget so many things. I have at times wondered if it's possible that he has no short term memory but then he remembers trivial, insignificant things like the migratory pattern of the hummingbird while forgetting important things, like, his shoes. We have actually left to go out to eat, gotten to the restaurant- and Brandt climbs out of the car and says "Hey, I don't have any shoes." Wow.
Another time when we were about to leave for soccer- I told him to go out to the garage, get his cleats- put them on, and get in the car. I hear him head down the steps, the front door opens then closes, a couple minutes pass- I hear the door open and close again and Brandt's voice "Mom- what was I looking for?" Even if he's not listening to me (which I'm pretty sure he's not) by process of elimination it seems to me he could figure out "Hey- I'm in the garage looking for something that probably has to do with where I'm going which is soccer-hmm, is it the rake? No... mower?No... wheelbarrow? nope... CLEATS! That's right!"
Over Spring Break we went to Guatemala on a mission trip. In the Atlanta airport- between security and our gate he managed to lose his belt, his passport, his backpack(this had all his insulin,needles and monitor for his diabetes), and his sweatshirt. That was before we even left the country!! Fortunately- his friends managed to recover all his belongings for him before he missed them.
Last week, he forgot he had a giant box cutter in his pocket and took it to school with him. You can imagine the phone call I got from the principal. How do you forget you have a giant metal thing in your pocket? You're Brandt, that's how.
I'm not sure there is any point to me telling you this except that I need someone to share my pain. This is what I live with daily. But I wouldn't trade him for anything. He is so great that mostly his forgetfulness doesn't matter (until you're stuck in a foreign country without a passport- thank you Jordan for saving us from this). I have full confidence it will not interfere with him leading an incredible life- he may just not have shoes on for large chunks of it.

The Mountain

Today Brad and I decided we needed to get away for a few hours so we blew off church and headed for the mountain. Not something we normally do because we hate to miss services at Riverstone but it was what we needed. The plan was to hike up the trail then run back down the road. This served two purposes- first, we needed to run a little and it's incredibly difficult to run down the trail without inflicting some kind of injury on yourself or people in front of you and second, there are some incredible views as you wind down the road that you miss on the trail(particularly if you are rolling head over foot down the trail because you tried to run it).
The hike up was good. We stopped at the top parking lot long enough to catch our breath and then headed back down. There were several groups of bird watchers and photographers coming up the road. We stopped at the overlooks as we came to them as we made our way down. About a third of the way down we passed a few people that were obviously part of the bird watching group but had lagged behind. The guy in the very back came walking up with binoculars around his neck, camera in hand and yelled to the people ahead of him "This place Sucks!" Apparently there was something in particular he was there to see and he was not seeing it. Now in the moment Brad and I thought this was pretty funny but I thought about it as we ran the rest of the way down the mountain.
Brad was talking about how clean and fresh everything smelled, we passed dogwood bushes growing wild-in full bloom, hawks were circling overhead and I wondered how anyone could think this place sucks? It's beautiful and peaceful but if you are only looking for one thing I guess you miss everything else. So then I wondered, how many times have I been the "this sucks" guy? How many times have I been looking for only one thing in particular to the exclusion of everything else? It's exactly what Judas did. Think about this guy who spends what? Like three years with Jesus? Walking, eating, spending every day side by side learning from God Himself- and he missed it? How is that even possible? Don't we always say if Jesus would just reveal Himself to us- speak to us- walk with us...then we could follow Him, do His will, forgive others, etc...? But that's exactly what Judas had and he handed Him over for 30 pieces of silver. How could he do that if Jesus was so loving, so good, so, well, Jesus-y?
I think it's because he was looking for one thing- which was for the Jews to be delivered from the Roman oppression they lived under. Now this is not a bad thing to want- it's a very righteous thing to want freedom. But he wanted this one thing more than he wanted the Messiah. He wanted what Christ would bring more than he wanted Christ Himself. That is a problem. And you see how it worked out for Judas- not well. Maybe that's an extreme example but I know I've done this many times in my own life.
I ask for things from Him that are good and right to ask- but then I set my heart on those things and when He doesn't answer the way I wanted- I am offended, disappointed, disillusioned and I miss everything else He is doing around me...and I would wager to say He's heart broken. I have to choose now to stay offended and nurse my wounds or turn my heart back to Him- ask Him to realign me with His will and His purposes,to gain His vision, to let Him heal the places where I have felt let down by Him, and trust , once again, in His goodness and His faithfulness.
It's hard to do sometimes and it's taken me longer than I would like to admit on some occasions to stop being offended- but I'm so glad He is patient with me and gracious in my times of doubt. He may not always do what I want but He is always good. And if I can just keep my heart set on Him, I will not be the "this sucks" guy anymore.