What's the Deal?

 

   My blogging habits are a lot like my housekeeping: sporadic at best. Any of you who regularly read this blog (A big shout out to the two of you!) may be wondering, "Hmmm. Three posts in three days. What's the deal?" Well I'll tell you, dear reader! I'm participating in BlogHer's NaBloPoMo.
   Huh?
   Basically, I've registered with BlogHer to write a post every day for the month of October. That's it. That's the challenge. Write a post everyday. The theme is...ready? FALL!!!! Some of my posts will be about this gorgeous season, about changing colors, about food (mmnnnn, food). Some posts might be about FALLing apart, or FALLing short, or FALLing down (which I do with some frequency).
    Please come along for the ride. Imagine we're on a road trip together for the next four weeks, and while trapped in our tiny sedan we get to know each other a lot better.
    I want to hear from you What do you FALL for?

When Life Falls Apart

   Today, the family and I will be attending a funeral. Funerals are not exactly on my list of favorite things to do, but there you go.
   The prayer list at church seems to get bigger and bigger every week. And so many of these people are near and dear to my heart. They're folks who are suffering, sick or in need. They're not just names on a piece of paper, they're real people and they're broken.
  So what do you do when life falls apart? When the illusion of security and wellness slips away and you're left in the pit of despair. What do you do when your life partner is suddenly gone and you're alone, or your only child is sick with cancer, or the family patriarch is healthy yesterday and in the hospital today. What do you do when you can see the pieces of your life lying shattered in disarray around you?
   There are several options.
   You can try to pick up the pieces yourself, but like a LEGO creation that has come crashing to the floor, there are just too many small parts that slip through your fingers. Overwhelmed is an understatement. 
  You can rely on other people to pick up the pieces. The problem is that they have their own ideas of how everything should fit back together. You're grateful for the help, but something is just not right. A piece is missing, or put in the wrong place, or the pieces have been put back too quickly and it's not quite stable.
   Or you can ignore the mess that your life has become; pretend that the shards are not lying all around you and just go on. But this is so not healthy. It's a lie. Pretending the glass isn't broken won't keep the water from seeping out.

When you're shattered, God hasn't left.
 He's just getting the broom

   As someone who has tried all of these options, I believe there's a better way. God is the only one who can pick up the pieces and make a creation that is better and stronger than before. In the dead of night when the silence of the house is deafening and the loneliness is stifling, He's there. You may not feel Him, or sense Him, or recognize His presence, but He's there. Deuteronomy 31:8 says, "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." 
   The 23rd Psalm is one of my favorites. It reminds me that even though I travel through the valley of the shadow of death (v 4), I will not be afraid. Not because I have good friends to walk with me (which is great), or I have a strong disposition (which will only get me so far) but because God is with me!! This Psalm paints a beautiful picture. It says, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters..." (v 2) Have you ever seen someone so distraught or in so much pain they need to be led? This is what God does for us in our weakest moments. He makes us lie down in green pastures. Not necessarily because we want to, (ever wallow in self pity longer than necessary?) but because He knows what's best for us. Note, He MAKES us lie down. Sometimes we fight, sometimes we're so weary, and sometimes we're so incapacitated with grief that we can't do a thing on our own. But God will pick us up, and make us to lie down in the lush field of His love and lead us beside the still waters of His spirit.
   Isaiah 64:8 says that we are the clay and the Lord is the potter. Again, such a wonderful picture of an artist lovingly working on a creation. When the pot breaks, only the one who made it knows the right way to fix it. Chances are the work of art will be stronger and more beautiful than before. That's what God does with us when we're hurt, broken, and feel destroyed. He lovingly picks up the shattered mess, carries us to His work table and rebuilds us. We're not the same, we still carry scars of whatever it was that broke us, but His fingerprints are all over us.
   When life falls apart, be patient. Know that God is picking you up. It takes time to rebuild a masterpiece. Life won't get back to normal (whatever that is) for months, maybe years, maybe never completely. But you're being worked on. You're being gently, sweetly, purposely fitted back together. Piece by piece, day by day. God loves you. He made you. He's didn't leave you as you came crashing to the floor, He's just getting the broom.

Pumpkin Pie Anyone?

   I love fall. I absolutely love it. The change in weather, wardrobe, menus and attitudes make for a happy mommy. In fact, the three big kids are outside right now hunting acorns for daddy to take when he goes hunting.

   The trees in our neck of Virginia are starting to turn vibrant reds and oranges. It seems to happen so quickly though that if I blink it's already winter. Isn't life like that? Kids grow up so fast. One day they're little saplings and before you know it they're giant Sequoias. As a species, humans just need to ditch the fast pace and slow down and smell the roses (or see the leaves change) before it's too late and a blessed season has passed.
  This fall I'm going to "FALL" in love with Autumn all over again. I'm going to soak in the smells and sights that make this transition period from the heat of the summer to the frigidity of winter so miraculous.
   Let's get out our sweatshirts and jeans and jump in some leaves. Feel them crunch under your feet. Hear the kids squeal with laughter as they make it "rain." Smell the cinnamon in the air. Then sit down, relax and taste some pumpkin pie.

"There's a Dino in the Dog Water" and other Things I Thought I'd Never Say

Being a parent is a challenge, and in dealing with everyday "crisis," I hear myself saying things no normal adult would ever say. Here are just a few of the goodies that have popped out.  I've also included for your reading pleasure, a few gems that have escaped from the mouths of my darlings. Enjoy!!


Jason, hurry!! Eva's got her hair caught in the drive shaft of the remote controlled monster truck!

Boys, how did pee get on the shower curtain?

The Dino in the Dog Water...

Your baby brother is not a pony. Please don't pretend to ride him

No! I will not smell your finger!!

Did I just see you lick the dog?

Jason, the baby's crawling across the table... again

Eva! Stop sucking on your toes. We are in church!

There's a dino in the dog water...


...And here are some things the kids have said...

If I squeeze this bumlet, it makes my body go one way and if I squeeze the other bumlet, I go the other way. If I squeeze both bumlet cheeks together, I go straight

Mommy, today in school, Lincoln peed on a kid's shoe

Nah, I don't think I'll wash up;  I like my stench the way it is

Mommy!!!! My brothers just kicked me out of Hogwarts

I don't have to go to bed because the legend said so

Smell my finger (See my response above)

Jesus' hair smells like strawberries

I gave that old grandma in there my fork

You're the worst and I'm going to slam the door!!

I like the way my gasses smell


Please share if you or your kids have said some awesome things!

How did they do it?

   I recently watched a documentary on the West. The show was called...wait for it... "The West." History fascinates me and since I spent several of my childhood years in Nebraska, the settling and "taming" of the West is of particular interest. One thing that always gets me is the overwhelming isolation people dealt with. This documentary tells of the Love family who settled in Wyoming on an area the size of Rhode Island. It was just them...in an area the size of RHODE ISLAND!! Is it just me or is that impossibly hard to comprehend? How lonely they must have felt.
   In this age of "social" networking I find myself feeling similarly isolated, which is kind of crazy. Facebook posts display the parties I'm NOT invited to and the social outings I DON'T get to attend and remind me that I have about 25 less best friends than everyone else. There are days when I'm at home, surrounded by dirty diapers, mounds of laundry, chores that never seem to end, haunted by the fact that it may be 12 hours until I see an another adult. My mind wanders to the brave women of the West who were truly, truly alone and sometimes had to wait days to see another adult when the men were out hunting or in town. How did they not go crazy? (Or completely lose it on their kids?) I only have four my great-grandmother had at least twice that many.
   The other day was particularly hard. The whining and fighting were seriously giving me cold shivers, so I left the kids in front of the TV (don't judge me) and went outside for a few minutes. After a few deep breaths and some feeble prayers, I heard in my spirit that I was trying to draw my sustenance from the wrong source. Facebook, television, movies all portray a lie that you have to measure up to something. But the thing is, I'm the only one holding the yardstick. After talking to a few pre-school moms this morning, I've come to realize that the only one measuring me is ME! Friends won't fill me, parties won't fill me, my lovely family won't do it. The only thing that can honestly fill the lonely hole in my heart is the one who was created to fill it...Jesus. I was created to be me. As much as I'd love to be at the beach right now, or in France with some newly engaged friends (don't think they'd appreciate the visit, however), or even getting my nails done, that's not MY life. Maybe that's why the Bible talks about being content and not coveting. When you're trying to live another's life all you're going to feel is alone because it's not the life you were designed to live.
   Facebook friends will post about the dance classes, gymnastic classes, music, swimming, and sports that their kids are participating in, and when I start to feel bad about not being able to provide those things for my kids, I'll think back to the Love family in wild Wyoming. They had three children on that vast ranch. One became a chemist, one became a geologist, and one became an engineer (surely without a full extra-curricular calendar) . My kids will do just fine too, as long as they know that the source of their strength and the source of their Living Water is their creator.
   I plan to work hard at being me, living my lot, and (attempting to) love every minute of it. The women on the plains showed great perseverance and great strength. A lot of failures and heartache came with their lives but I believe they were proud of who they were and what they were doing. These women didn't have 605 Facebook "friends" but I believe most of them had One. And this friend, this gentle shepherd was more than enough to fill the lonely days.

Loosening the Apron Strings

Ok, mom, you can leave already!

My babies are growing up. Three out of the four are far removed from babies, yet they're still my little itsy bitsy sweetie-weetiekins. Ok, it's really not that serious, but it's hard to watch them learn to spread their wings and begin to fly. When exactly are the wee ones ready to start jumping from the nest? (Side note: I have an unusual and slightly crazy fear of birds, so it's funny I'm using this analogy.) At some point, I have to nudge them and let them know it's ok to explore because the safety of the nest is always waiting for them. This summer, I loosened my feathery apron strings and let them fly a little bit.

Well, two of them...

Performing "I Love Trash" (Yes, he's dressed as a trash can)

I sent my twins to overnight summer camp. This may not seem huge to some of you, but please understand, my kids have never slept away from home...ever. (Excluding family trips, naturally) They've been old enough to attend Indian Cave Youth Bible Camp for two years and I've always been afraid to let them go. I had a not-so -great experience at camp when I was 12 and was so afraid they would be embarrassed, or scared, or get sick when they went away. Notice, I was afraid. Not them. Oh, my little birdies were so ready to go and the best part is that they had a BLAST. One of my boys won third place in the camp talent show and was asked to perform it for the parents because it was so original.

I think the moral of the story is that I was keeping them close because I was projecting my fears on them. I'm so glad I've never told them of my bad experience at camp because it may have influenced them. I have to loosen the apron strings and let them explore and experience on their own. It will not always be pleasant; sometimes it will be hard; sometimes it will hurt. As long as they know where heart and home is, I'll be here to wrap my loving wings around them until the next time they're ready to fly.

God's in the little things (like Legos)

"MOMMY! Sob, sob, sob, LEGO!!!"

Huh, what? It was like 3 am and there was a tear stained, disheveled little thing hovering over my bed, heaving.

"Mommy, I [indistinguishable] Lego!"

After four more attempts...
"Mommy I ATE a Lego!"

You did WHAT?

After plopping herself on the toilet trying to relieve herself of the black Lego (sorry for the graphics) she had apparently JUST eaten, my four-year-old starts to recount her harrowing experience. Apparently she was playing with her Legos (at 3 am?) and swallowed one. It was simple. (Gosh, Mommy, why is this complicated?)

I'm sitting on the side of the tub, holding my little girl's hand and just asking God to help me. I'm also smiling because, frankly, the whole scenario is ridiculous. My hubs is up by this time too and Little Miss is explaining to him what happened. She is CONVINCED it's not a dream. It's caught in her throat (can't I hear her coughing?) And yet she's trying to poop it out. My mind is going through the options of which ER to take her. Our hospital doesn't have a pediatric endoscopy unit, so that's out. Do I drive south to Duke or north to Lynchburg? Do I take her at all? Is this real? Maybe I'm dreaming.

My sleepy head was going in circles, not unlike the tornado, which my son dreamed, was trying to eat his brain. Just last week we had a four person ER visit thanks to some MEAN yellow jackets and a multitude of stings. If my baby has really swallowed a Lego and it's really stuck, I really need to take her somewhere. But I really don't have any money. I mean, we're eating Ramen everyday kind of broke.

"Ok God, I need you here," I whispered.

 I didn't hear a direct answer and I didn't hear any concise directions. What I got was a peace; that whatever happened from this ridiculous situation was happening to me AND God. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I wasn't anxious about it anymore.

After she calmed down, we got her back in her room and asked her to go through exactly what happened. She showed us how she was playing with her Legos (which were stuffed in the bottom of a closed train case) and ate one.

"Honey, you said your light was off and your toys were all the way in the bottom of this case. Are you sure it wasn't a dream?"

"It WAS a dream!!!!! Night, Mommy. And can you turn off the light?"

Yeah, a tornado definitely ate my brain...