I LOVE those cheesy end of the year reviews--you know, the best of and worst of and most intriguing recap of the year.

So, without further ado....my first annual Year in Review blog post, in the form of a Top Ten reasons 2009 was memorable.
10. We bravely went where many told us NOT to go on Spring Break--the interior of Mexico. While some felt we were facing our certain deaths at the hands of Mexican drug lords, we actually had a relaxing time in Ajijic, and Collin overcame his fear of horseback riding.
9. Our first full year in our home brought many opportunities to send each child to their very own room.
8. I didn't realize I'd entered the pre-teen phase until I'd actually already ventured in. C'mon in--the waters fine! A bit testy at times, but nothing I can't handle.
7. Despite telling everyone we know (and a few people we don't), we somehow DID pull off a surprise trip on our kids. I'd pay good money to relive the moment of surprise for our kids AND our Canadian family when we showed up at family camp at Moose Lake, Canada.
6. Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser REALLY does live up to it's name. It's a bit of magic mixed with fairy dust--removes ink from walls, crayon from doors, and a multitude of other sins committed in the name of boredom.
5. Grocery game, oh, grocery game....how lovely are your savings! It actually does bring an element of fun and competition to the boring hum drum of grocery shopping.
4. Someone stole my toddler and preschool years of motherhood and exchanged them for this strange season of school age children. I have yet to eat a bon-bon?!
3. I've now officially spent as many years of my life with Chris as without him. Can't wait for all the decades to come....
2. Christmas on the beach...opening gifts watching the sunrise over the ocean. Spectacular.
1. Those little blobs of newborns are becoming such interesting, engaging, and amazing people. AND, I no longer have to bath a single one of 'em!

May 2010 be a year of new depth in your walk with the Lord, amazing memories with your loved ones, and wider margins in your life.

Chris shared this story in our Life Group on Sunday during our intro time, and honestly, it was a memory I'd so tucked away--I'd completely forgotten about it. (I keep wondering if 38 years old is too young for Alzheimer's?)....

In 2003, we took our boys on a trip of a lifetime to visit their grandma who was living in England. One of our adventures was a trip to a nearby town called Gloucestershire, where part of the cathedral dated back to the 1500's.



Pretty amazing,huh? It was one of those experiences that nearly takes your breath away. We were overwhelmed by the beauty, the ornate carvings, the amazing architecture, the intricate stained glass windows, and the angelic choir that was rehearsing--their music filling the building, and setting the scene.

Cameras are not allowed in the cathedral, but I found this photo online.


Our boys were 2 and 4 at the time, and I was not sure how much they'd appreciate the experience of walking where people have worshipped for hundreds of years. They clung to their prized possessions--their blankies, and seemed a bit bored, really. I was trying to drink in the experience while keeping my little guys from distracting others in their attempt to do the same.

As all families with small kids do, we rushed through the cathedral tour a bit faster than we'd like to, but we were on toddler time. Toward the end of the tour, I was intrigued by this memorial.



I was reading the placard attached to this memorial when I noticed the boys were not near me. My stomach flipped as I looked around feverishly, then nearly burst into tears at what I saw. My older son was whispering, in his best preschool indoor whisper, "MOM, MOM, come look!" The boys were huddled around this very simple stone statue of Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. No facial features were carved into the statues, and they were a tan color that melted into the color of the walls. In fact, no one else even noticed them discarded in the corner as they were. Yet, both boys had a look of wonder on their faces as they gently laid their precious blankies over baby Jesus, mesmerized by finding the Messiah.

That is what Christmas is all about. In a world where we seek beauty and worry about appearances, we are distracted by the sparkle and glitter and ornate trappings of this world. But there, in the middle of it, is the simplicity of Jesus. Isaiah says that there was no beauty in Jesus, nothing to draw the attention or affection of man. Yet,the most beautiful truth of Christmas is this. The Son of the God of the Universe came, born in a dirty stable, placed in a borrowed feeding trough, wrapped in clothes, with YOU in mind. Will you find him among the blinking lights, expensive gifts, and busy season of Christmas?

Grief. Not exactly the word that comes to mind for the general population when you think about Christmas. But, for too many, that's all Christmas is. Grief. Your family is not like the Norman Rockwell paintings, and Christmas makes the pain fresh. Do you really have to spend time with these people? AND, shop for them? Or, for too many I know, this Christmas brings the grief of the one who is not sitting at the table.

I hesitated to write this blog post. Who wants to be Debbie Downer for Christmas? But, my heart is too heavy to ignore it. Right now, I am in a season of watching too many wrestle under the weight of heavy burdens. I can't shake the thoughts of so many I know who have lost a parent or a spouse this year...and the thought of facing a holiday without them is nearly unbearable. Or, those I hold dear who are in the fight for their lives. And,their loved ones daily face the fear and anxiety that maybe this is their last Christmas together. Or, the sweet friend who courageously wakes daily, prepared to say goodbye, waiting for the inevitable.

Grief. I have walked that bumpy road. I have been buried by the agony of it. I have fallen asleep, tears wetting my face, wishing I wouldn't wake up to see the nightmare is too real. I have railed at the God of the Universe for the injustice of it all--telling Him exactly what I thought of Him.

And, I'm a living testimony of survival. When I say there is hope--believe me, I do not say it flippantly. If you have known me or my story in much detail, you know the pit where I lived for a long season. But, I hope you also know that God could handle my questions, my insults, my anger. Somewhere in the depths of my pain, even though I could not see it for years, God was revealing the depths of His love and sufficiency. I would not wish it on anyone. But, I pray for it for every loved one or acquaintance I know this Christmas who are buried in grief. I pray that you, too, will one day look back and realize the sweet, precious experience that came with your grief--the love of an Abba Father who will hold you as you yell and punch at Him, who will gently and daily sustain you, who feels the depths of your pain as His dearly loved children.

And, I pray that on December 26th, you realize hope. You see that you have survived your first Christmas. You think of a newborn baby--a Son, born to die--a death sentence given by His own Father. And, I pray that a tiny sliver of hope shines through it.

Sometimes, my husband will take a child ahead of us if we are running behind--and I'll let him know that I'll be there soon, following behind. As I age, I've begun to see how temporary this journey on Earth is. And, although someone I love has gone on ahead, I'll be there soon. That is the hope of believers who grief.

I'm sitting here, fresh from a great evening with my family. We started our festivities with roasting hot dogs over our fire pit for dinner, topped off with s'mores for dessert, of course. You see, I was traumatized by our last family camping trip two years ago. It was an affair to remember, complete with a preschooler with a violent stomach bug, a forgotten lantern, food ruined by raw chicken juice (which probably explains the stomach bug), a forgotten skillet, AND a rowdy bunch of boy scouts who didn't quiet till the wee hours of a weary night. SO, a quiet little gathering around a fire pit in our backyard is about as far as I've gotten since then.

We capped off our evening watching old home movies, per our children's request. There was our baby girl turning one, and her adorable preschool and kindergarten brothers. We all laughed at their antics, and cried at seeing our dog on film (he died a few years ago). And, I was struck at how thick headed I am when it comes to my mothering. My darling baby was just learning all kinds of new tricks, and throughout the entire 2 hours of film, I asked her repeatedly to "show me--where's your eye?!" She laughed, she pointed to her chin and her belly belly, and she even said the word eye time and time again. But, she never would point to her eye. And I never would quit asking her to perform on MY command, trying to be the boss of her.

Here I am--nearly five years later, still frustrating myself by asking my children to perform on command. Instead of appreciating whatever talent or skill or insight they are currently offering, I am pointlessly trying to get them to follow my agenda, all the time MISSING the moment. One of my best friends was offering this exact wisdom just twenty-four hours ago as we discussed parenting. She encouraged me as I told her I felt God was challenging me to let go of the reigns a bit. My oldest will be heading to middle school next year. I don't have preschoolers anymore. I feel God is showing me to start trusting what we've taught them, showing them I believe in their ability to make wise choices. It's time to start coaching them on fighting fair with their siblings instead of jumping in every time. I need to dialog more, criticize and command less. They are each becoming their own person, growing up so quickly. And my mothering skill set needs to keep up.

SO, next time you hear me asking them to point to their eye while they are busy saying eye for the first time, remind me to stop giving commands and to start relishing who they are.

This is why I love my church.

At first glance, it just might look like a random pile of snacks. If you know me, you might even think I totally scored at Grocery Game. But, nope. This mound of snacks is yet the latest example of why I LOVE my church, specifically, but also the body of Christ in general.

You see, this stack of snacks is the end result of ONE e-mail. Just one. Sent on Sunday night to our Young Marrieds Life Groups, and then passed to other Life Groups. One of the couples in our class walked in Sunday morning shell shocked from a bombshell they'd received the night before. Just a few hours earlier, the husband's 39 year old brother was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. This news came weeks after the wife's mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness.

How do you bear that burden? When all else fails, you offer food. (We are Baptist, after all). Along with a call to pray, we asked for snacks. Because when you wait in the hospital, or are running back and forth between sick family members, you gotta eat on the run. Kids need to be distracted and occupied. So, we just asked for people to bring goodies, toys, books, and snacks. And, I've found that our church loves to show their love and concern in tangible ways.

How else do you explain how in one week our church basically furnished 32 apartments for people they'd never met, survivors of Katrina? Or, how our church, with an average attendance of 425, has over 200 people volunteer for our annual Journey to Bethlehem? Or, one that is nearest to my heart--when my husband thought he was having a heart attack last year, we had 4 people waiting in the ER exam room BEFORE we even arrived by ambulance? It was 11 pm at night--and they stayed to keep us company till 2 a.m.

THIS is how the body of Christ should be. Walking the hard roads with you--whether you are friend or stranger. "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn" Romans 12:15. You may not be sure how on earth to reach out to someone who is hurting deeply. But, it's actually not too complicated. You pray for them, you hug them, you don't shy away, and you meet tangible needs. Bearing each others' burden, one little snack at a time.

So, for some reason after an amazing last night of worship and praise at the Life Action Summit, my sweet kindergarten girl was freaked out about having nightmares--something involving bees. Not sure what they taught her that night in class?

In an effort to console her (and convince her that NO, she did not have to sleep in mommy's room after all), I laid down with her and asked if I could tell her a bedtime story.

Of course, it was a real life fairy tale about a mommy and daddy who had two wonderful boys and then God gave them one of their best gifts ever--a baby girl. Smart as a whip, she figured out it was autobiographical rather quickly, and seemed to enjoy being the main character.

She wanted another story, and I was beginning to wrestle a sore throat that night. I asked her if SHE could tell ME a bedtime story instead. Without further ado, I give you an original bedtime story, by my darling daughter.

"Once upon a time, there was a mom. AND a dad. And they went to eat at La Hacienda with Boo and Pop. Then, they came home and texted everyone to say, 'Hey, we are going to have a baby!' They texted Nannie and Papa, and Carrie and Lindsay--and all those people you know. And, then the big day came. So, they went to the hospital, and then the baby was born. And, the baby said, 'hey, I like Mexican food!' The End."

I may soon be turning my blog over to this incredible creative mind.....

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the rain watching my nephew play little league football. It had been raining for days and days...I had already googled "how to build an ark." As I sat alone and quiet--both a rare occasion for me--I realized how much life is like that muddy game.

You may be the player who loves to jump into the game, pumped and excited, and ready to get all dirty. You don't care if your jersey is so filthy you can't see your number. You don't care if you have to tackle someone and squish yourself into inches of mud. You play with reckless abandon, unafraid to get dirty--because certainly in life, things do get muddy.

Or, maybe you are like the players who aren't quite sure what to do about the situation. Their caution is obvious from their bright white pants. They tiptoe through the mud, and play with such care, hoping to avoid the mud completely. Perhaps they stay on the sideline. Or perhaps, when they are called to get in the game, they simply stand back. They can never completely play the game of life--the fear of getting muddy holds them back.

Another category you might fall in would be the coaches who seem to lose sight of the fact that THIS IS A LITTLE LEAGUE GAME! I clenched my fists at these guys. Grown men, yelling fiercely at ten and eleven-year-old boys. I think they lost sight of the fact that this is supposed to be fun, AND this is not the superbowl. They stomped around in the mud, their passion for the game exceeding into an unhealthy and way-too-intense approach. They are taking things way too seriously. They didn't care how their tone or words wounded those around them--or how it reflected on them personally. They are so caught up in winning and success that they forget to have fun playing. And, they forget about building relationships in the process.

Last but not least are the coaches who enjoy the process. My nephew's coach was a perfect example of this category. Seasoned by decades of the game, he was able to take things in stride. When things didn't look good for his team, he never lost his cool. No yelling, no rudeness--just respect and understanding for his players. He certainly corrected their misplays, just quietly and without any anger. He was able to enjoy watching, encouraging, and participating in the game, with a proper perspective of both the wins and the losses. He had played the game himself, and was taking the opportunity to pass on his lessons learned.

And it all got me to thinking. My uniform is a bit too clean. I think it's time for me to dive in, full on. The mud is there, and life gets dirty and hard sometimes. But, there's always Living Water to wash me clean and refresh me. And, I think my Coach wants me to give it my all--to the very last play of the game, till the whistle blows.

Lest you think this post is about a yellow polka-dot bikini...bear with me. There is a point.

Have you ever so looked forward to something that when you arrived, you were sorely disappointed--completely tripped up by your high expectations? Even when you THOUGHT you were just going with the flow--expectation free. For nearly eleven years, I have been swimming through the depths and waves of motherhood--sometimes floating in the amazing highs of it all, and sometimes drowning in the challenges. You know--the old saying that the days are long but the years fly by.

Nearly two months ago, I entered a new season. I THOUGHT it'd be amazing--the NIRVANA I've been hanging all my hopes and dreams upon--to send all my kids to school. I didn't realize just how many expectations I had about this. I THOUGHT I'd have these wide margins in my life--time to do all the things I've put off for 11 years, time to myself, time to dive into some new amazing huge things.

You know--the living bigger stuff that I last blogged about?!

Guess what? I still have to grocery shop. And,clean house. And, run errands. And, do laundry. I still have to handle all those little details of managing my household. Oh, I do get to eat lunch with my husband--lunches that don't involve cutting anyone's food AND do involve completed sentences.

But, the really "BIGGER THINGS" that my heart is yearning for...not time yet.

So, I'm learning that living BIGGER means being faithful in the smallest details. It means doing the itsy bitsy teenie weenie things that no one notices or appreciates. Oh, and not just doing them. Doing them with joy--to serve the Lord. UGH. BRUTAL. Priscilla Shirer said it well in the Anointed, Transformed, and Redeemed study. David was anointed to be KING. YEAH! That I can cheer for--that sums up my dreams for the big things I think God is calling me to (not that I am trying for worldwide domination or to be a benevolent dictator). But, there was a catch for David. The day after the anointing, David was back to herding sheep. For years. And years. And years. Because before David could tackle the big things and have his calling realized, he had to learn faithfulness through the small and mundane tasks.

Hmmm.....lots to wrap my brain around. I got miles to go. Speaking of, gotta go now. The lambs are calling for me to get them a snack, and then I gotta dust. BAAAAA BAAAAAA.

So, I've been gone a while from blogging. I can't even begin to fill you in on the last nearly two months, so I won't even try. But, I can sum up the cumulative effect of the events...LIFE IS SHORT. My heart is overloaded with the suffering and pain of those around me--some people I hold incredibly dear and have dug deep with them in life's trenches. Other people I barely know, or don't really know at all.

My sweet auntie told me that she can see how God is putting me through the meat grinder--tenderizing my heart with empathy for others, as well as truly ruining me with His grace and love. At least, as I was sobbing hysterically on her shoulder, way beyond the ugly cry--I'm pretty sure that is what she said. I do know for sure that the mental image of me going through a meat grinder seems about right.

Through various messages, songs, and insight...I feel God is saying, think BIGGER. Whatever I think I might be able to do--think BIGGER. Whatever I think God might have for me--think BIGGER. Whatever I can imagine to fill my days or volunteer for--think BIGGER. Whatever I dream about--think BIGGER.

Because you truly don't know what each day holds. That sounds so cliche, but there's no other way to say it. You may be driving down the street, and suddenly, you find yourself in a car accident. You may be on your way to youth camp, and a tire blows out causing a fatal wreck. You may be enjoying your golden days with the love of your long life, and you end up on a ventilator. You may be planning your husband's birthday, and discover you have breast cancer.

So, now is the time. If you want to teach your children to be more grateful, take them to a third world country to feed the homeless and orphans. If you want to do something for a cause, sign up today to head up a big team or fundraiser. If you want to make a difference, make it now. If you admire what others do and think you can never do it, then think again.

Because Psalm 139 promises that our God is so big that the days of our life are written in his book before one of them came to be. So, just in case your days are shorter than YOU think....THINK BIGGER. It's a big world with big needs, and being willing is the biggest first step.

I'm warning you now. If you are sitting near me tomorrow at the God and Country church service...I will likely cry. It could even be the ugly cry. Because, you see, for me, the holiday that evokes deep, weepy emotion is the Fourth of July. If you've seen my son's room, you might have a clue as to why.

My kids come from a heritage RICH and STEEPED in military service. My dad served two tours in Vietnam, and was a career Army man. My grandfather served in the Navy during World War II in the Pacific, and my uncle served in the Army during Vietnam. My father-in-law served as a Marine, and his father-in-law served in the Army during World War II in the European campaign. And, my husband's god-brother did search and recovery at the Pentagon after 9/11 during his years in the Army, and served in Iraq with the Air Force.

Naturally, I was raised with a deep patriotism. I was raised by a man who grew up dreaming about serving his country through military service. At a time when men dodged the draft and people protested, my dad willingly signed up to answer a higher call. I was raised by a man who saw and lived through the atrocities of war, and could not bear to speak of them. But, he was changed by them. He came back from the war with a deeper love for America, despite the ridicule, hostility, and name calling that Vietnam Vets endured. I was raised by a man who ultimately died from cancer due to his exposure to Agent Orange during the war. And, I was raised by a man who did not regret what he gave for the sake of freedom.

I can vividly remember my dad BLARING his patriotic records, acting as conductor to the orchestra recorded on those old vinyls. It made me roll my eyes....and now, when I hear the Battle Hymn of the Republic and the Army Anthem, it brings tears to my eyes.

Because, I know freedom isn't free. I know the pain of sacrifice given by women and men who feel a calling toward God and country. I know that our country was founded by men who gave all they had to birth a country based on Biblical principles and a freedom to worship. And, I want my kids to know. It must be sinking in because one of my sons is already determined to continue the military legacy.

So, just pass me a tissue and look away so we can all pretend you didn't see my ugly cry. God Bless America!

Unless you have experienced a similar service, it might sounds strange to say I was encouraged and inspired by a funeral I attended. I am so glad I didn't miss that funeral. The church was packed, and the large screen showed an amazing slide show of a life lived well. There were images of Dan in Africa, in remote villages where he traveled regularly to share the love of Christ. And, similar pictures of he and his family in various Asian countries. Dan riding elephants, Dan in African dress with natives, Dan baptizing someone in an African river. To say Dan had a passion for missions would be an understatement.

Dan was a friend from church, and he served as a deacon with my husband. I can remember one of the first times I met him, at the Fall Festival, and he was dressed like a rocker. I didn't quite recognize him under that wig, but he certainly knew us. Or, the day after his daughter's wedding when he showed off pictures from the day before to any and every living soul within ear shot, proclaiming she was the most beautiful bride he'd ever seen. I remember the glowing pride and overwhelming love in his eyes.

I think I came undone after the slide show when the choirs came up for some praise and worship. You see, our church is not very diverse. But, Dan had recently begun to serve as an associate pastor in a church where he was more of the minority. To look up and around and see faces of all beautiful shades just unwound me--two congregations coming together to worship our Savior. The way the body of Christ should be.

Dan was fifty-four. He died rather suddenly from a lung disease. But, to hear stories from friends and family about his life, he lived every day as if he knew his time on earth would be too short. I cried off and on the entire time, touched by the way he brought joy and laughter to all those around him. He lived life to the fullest, seizing every opportunity to be the hands and feet of Christ to all those he encountered.

I left that service changed. Because although I may hear a sermon about using our time on earth wisely, I was moved by the amazing witness of Dan Butler. When necessary, he used words. But, primarily, he lived in such a way to leave a legacy that will continue for generations. May it be said of me.

My Canadian family just loves to hear my Texas accent, tales of Southern life, and any true Texas phrase I can think of. You know, I was just fixin' ta write this blog post when my youngest was wallerin' all over me, and she was so darn cute I coulda sopped her up with a biscuit!

Yeppers. Our recent Memorial Day venture to the lake with my husband's family might qualify for a little picturesque scene of good ole Texas fun. We set up our camping chairs in a circle--you know, we are a close knit bunch--right there on the lake shore. We had us some sweet tea, and the caterer even brought the GALLONS of tortilla chips to go with the Mexican feast in a trash can (we all just assumed it was clean?). Uncle Craig was dealin' with a pesky critter as he prepped for the party, and he took matters in his own hands. Grabbed him his shotgun (it was within reach mind you), and took care of that squirrel by just shootin' him right outta the tree. Cousin Bubba wasn't there to help, but no worries. (nope, none of this is made up).

Our baby girl couldn't wait to jump in the lake, and we all had a good time tellin' the youngins to go do so. Life jacket safely secured, she walked down that dock with great confidence. But, seeings how she's never swam in a lake, she seemed a bit surprised by how big it was. And, dark...where was the bottom? Typical Texas weather, it literally rained one minute, and the sun shone bright and clear the next. Which made for some unusually chilly Texas waters (don't worry--they'll be boiling by August's 110 degree weather). She dealt with her confusion by meandering back down the dock to the lake shore, muttering, "I'm a little scared, but I just have to be brave, I just have to." Her self-pep talk continued for a bit, until she was psyched enough to venture in. That and a little coaxing from a sweet bigger cousin and a bit of teasing from a big brother.

Thank goodness for those steps at the end of the dock, leading into the lake. Caris hung on for dear life. She invented new ways to "swim" in the water, all the while, treating those steps and the railing like a spot on a Twister game--some body part was touching them the entire time. And, even when her lips turned blue (literally) from the cold water, teeth chattering, she squealed with delight and reassured us that, "it's just a LITTLE chilly."



About the time hypothermia was setting in hours later, we tempted her out of the water with the promise of a hot bath and a hotter meal. She was shriveled like a prune, but had such a grand time spending her day in the water. She even realized the merits of the life jacket as she exclaimed, "AND, I didn't even go down to the bottom ONCE!"

Reflecting on our recent adventure, she asked yesterday if I could just call Uncle Craig and ask him if she could PLEASE spend her birthday at the lake? She said she'd had so much fun, and wished she'd been more daring about venturing into the middle of the lake, seemingly chiding herself for her four-year-old anxiety. Then, out of the mouth of babes, she said, "Mama, next time, I just need to trust God to go out somewhere else."

Are you living your life with your big girl floaties on, content to stay just where you are? Do you cling to the rail for security, looking out into the unknown deeper waters, and too afraid to risk the adventure and delight you might find there? Well, you just need to trust God to go out somewhere else. He's the best floatation device there is. Even in the event of an emergency.

Mawwiage is a holy institution. A line from a favorite movie. While The Princess Bride may be a comedy and the priest's hilarious accent makes me laugh nearly to tears, I think this line actually sums up a main problem with marriage in America today. Our culture has gotten away from seeing marriage as an institution, annointed and created by GOD. It's holy and sacred.

Chris and I watched a certain reality show last night, out of some morbid curiosity, I suppose. It was like watching a train wreck. I will not comment on the specifics, but I'm sure most of you know what I'm talking about. I'll just leave it at this--my heart hurts for the pain of this family, and all the thousands of others that they represent.

What happened? Whatever does happen? A million reasons for each marriage broken, and each story unique. I recently ate dinner with some friends from high school. I was the only one of the five of us who had not been divorced. I'm not bragging, mind you. There but the grace of God go I. Because marriage is hard. And, speaking for myself only, I cannot make it a day without the hope and foundation of the Solid Rock of Christ.

I will say that I have been blessed with a very happy marriage, and after all these years together, Chris is still my best friend, my most trusted confidante, and the one I want to grow old with. It's not that butterflies in the stomach kind of feeling any more. While I loved that fresh crazy and mad feeling of being in love in the beginning, that changes with the years. And, I'm glad for that. I love the comfortable, secure and DEEP love that has grown through years of ups and downs and shared experiences.

I simply want to make this point. For those wrestling through to make their marriage work--fight for it. Get on your face together, before God, and ask him to help. For those facing a broken marriage--I still encourage you to go to God and let him bind up your hurts and be the lover of your soul. Remember--when we stand firm as the Princess Bride of Christ, His love sustains us.

Random thoughts for Thursday.

19 years. Today is 19 years since my dad died. I could just about tell you where I was every moment of this day 19 years ago. That day became a dividing line for my life, just like B.C. and A.D. Now, those divisions of time are exactly even. 19 years with him. 19 years without him.

5 years. Today is also 5 years since my oldest asked Jesus into his heart. Isn't God good to redeem this date of sad anniversaries with the anniversary of a NEW LIFE? Happy eternal birthday, Collin.

19 years. As of May 5, that is how long I've known my husband. Ironic, isn't it? Well, really more of a God thing. Knowing what was to come just 9 days after I met Chris, God allowed me a precursor glimpse into the man of my dreams, the man of my future.

8 years. For that many years, I have been sending children to Mother's Day out. My baby girl graduated from Pre-K this week AND signed up for Kindergarten. Wow. In a few months, all my kids will be in school--all day. Looks like God has some plans for me! A new season of life.

34 months. In July 2006, God began to plant some seeds and cultivate some writing ideas within my heart. And, today, I officially finished my first ever book proposal. After some technical finishing touches by my man, I will begin sending it to publishers to see where God leads me. God only knows where this is to go. I only know I was to obey. SO, I did. And, it's done. And, how fitting that TODAY, May 14th, I can feel the weight of my call lifted--because I've done my part.

2 finalists. To be completely random....Yeah for Kris Allen! All both of you who read this has have heard this story already--but just in case you forgot....Did you KNOW that Kris has led worship for my niece's youth group? Did you KNOW that my sister and her family live in Conway, Arkansas? Yeah for his talent, yeah for his heart, yeah for God's blessing on him.

Now, to complete my randomness for Thursday thoughts...I shall go put all the random leftovers for the week on my kitchen island and let my family pick their poison. Bon appetite!

Once upon a time, there were three children. They had a wonderful mother who never lost her temper, never yelled, and always responded gently to them. She kept the house spotless, greeted her husband nightly with love and support, had a nutritious and healthy meal on the table every night, and planned fun and educational outings for her family. Her children always obeyed the first time, treated each other with kindness and respect, and constantly asked how they could help the house run more smoothly.

Yeah. I don't believe in fairy tales anymore either. Sigh. I did marry my Prince Charming, and we are living happily ever after. We are even quite grateful for these three little miracles God gave us. But, our daily life often spirals downward. At this point, I have enough training in negotiating peace that I should be sent to the Middle East. I usually greet Chris with a grunt, as I've lost the ability to form complete sentences after surviving the "witching hour" that comes at the end of the day. Nutritious and healthy meals? Yep--I've lowered my standards. That pediatrician never should have told me not to worry--daily vitamins will supplement poor eating habits (oh--if I only remembered to GIVE the vitamins daily).

So, here we are. In the midst of another rough spot. Time for Mommy Boot Camp because SOMETHINGS gotta give.

Here's my plan (I'll have to get back to you to see if it works). First of all--if I have to say no one more time, my head will explode. My kids' heads will, too. Need some positive reinforcement. SO, we're going back to our old ticket system. This is a way to reward to the kids when we "catch them" making good choices. They earn those little paper tickets (Mardel's has them). They each have a little box, and they work with us to create the rewards. We have a poster, and after we determine the value of each ticket, we create a list of rewards they hope to earn by cashing in the appropriate number of tickets.

We've done this in the past, and it's worked nicely. In my mothering experience, I need to stay a step ahead because the novelty wears off. So, it went by the wayside after our move last year. Time to pull it back out. As the kids are more mature, we have added another element. I bought a laminated posted with great visuals about the Fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). It includes great definitions of each fruit. We are using this as a springboard to point out God honoring behaviors--making it clear that when they ask, God will naturally enable these fruits to grow.

The "yin" of this positive reward "yang" is a great idea I got from a parenting website. We are creating an "If, THEN" chart with our kids. On a poster board, we will list the most frequently occurring offenses (ignoring commands, arguing, speaking disrespectfully, etc). We will list those under the "IF" column. A corresponding "THEN" consequence will be listed. This will help take the emotion out of disciplining, allowing me to stay calm, as I simply point to the chart.

If this doesn't help, I'm wondering how much Michelle Duggar charges for a house call? I mean--those 18 kids are awfully well behaved and respectful. God bless them--my kids are amazing, but foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, and I need some new tools to train them in the way they should go.

Yes, these are the pressing questions that plague me late at night. In some former glory, back before children, I mediated complicated adoption cases. And, I think I did it fairly well, often thinking on my feet. Now, I waiver on whether or not to continue shopping at CVS.

I got sucked into the Grocery Game sometime in January. Peer pressure can be just as persuading in your late 30's. I was bound and determined to save my family some money. My very hungry, very ravenous family. My oldest child has quit ordering from the kids menu. I didn't think this was legal. He's not even 12. So, groceries are a main money drainer around here. I knew the time had come.

I was pretty proud of myself for navigating my way through it (thanks a million, Leigh Anne, for being my tour guide!) to determine which grocery store is best for me. And, even more proud to see my grocery bill shrink. Life was good.

Except for that evil empire that calls itself CVS. They taunt me through the blogs of those who brag about getting a year's worth of toiletries for $3. It was like I was missing some magic formula. Because, for the life of me, I'd scour that Grocery Game list, and marvel at the amazing deals, just waiting to be had. But, then, I'd nearly hear an audible devilish laugh of those in management, conspiring against me, as I'd search the aisles for those "FREE" items (post Extra Care Bucks, of course)...but they were out of stock. Okay, scratch that off the list. Then, I'd look for the bargain basement items, but they weren't marked on sale. In the meantime, I'd find "regularly" priced items on my needs list, only to realize that with the convenience of CVS shopping comes a marked up prices (akin to 7-11's $12 gallons of milk).

Sigh. I was about ready to give up. I mean, should I do CVS or not? I polled every person I knew who did the Grocery Game, thought about doing the Grocery Game, or had heard of the Grocery Game. Mixed reviews. Those darn blogs continued to taunt me. I was determined. I decided I would NOT be licked by CVS. I'd beat them at their own game--the GROCERY game!

So, armed with a new strategy, I marched into that CVS. I thought I had it figured out. The key--BE BOLD. So, at the check-out on that infamous, table turning day, I felt the surges of victory as I consulted the manager. I politely inquired about the out of stock items and the items mismarked (I refrained from asking about the overpricing). No good answer. But, I knew then that I was destined to become the thorn in the flesh of CVS because I would not give up.

I think I now strike fear in that poor cashier's heart when I walk into the store. I think the manager runs away on break. That probably happened after the time I followed him around the store asking him about five or six different items that were SUPPOSED to be on sale, but weren't marked. I was armed with the sales ad. I'm sure the cashier would like to join him on break when I come through the door, but she's the only other employee. She doesn't like the way I try to use coupons, my flex plan card, AND my Extra Care Bucks. She probably also doesn't like the attitude of the guys who always seem to end up in line behind me. They only ran in to grab cigarettes, and as they sigh heavily during my check-out procedure, they must not be pleasant company for her after I've gone.

But, you know what? I'm now a blogger boasting about my amazing deals at CVS. HA! The only thing that would make it better is if I could strike a truce with the cashier. Can't we all be friends? Oh, well....I still got a whole lot of stuff for not much. Check it out!
This haul should have cost about $150 (according to CVS), but really about $110 at Wal-Mart. I got it for $70, PLUS I got $37 Extra Care Bucks back. So, it's like I got it all for $33.


This shopping trip was a doozy. Cost me $2. AND, I got $17 in Extra Care Bucks back. See? It's like they pay ME to shop there!

I'd love to show you my latest success story, but my darling man put all the items away before I could take a photo (I know! Can you believe I married so well?!). Let's just say--it was GREAT! I paid $8 for stuff that should have cost about $70. PLUS, I got $15 back in Extra Bucks.

Yep, I'm onto them. So, I'll CVS for sure. It's kinda like Survivor. I have to outwit them, outplay them, and outlast them....but I will not leave the CVS tribe.

One of the hugest traumas of my second grade year was not the fact that I had to go to speech therapy for an embarrassing speech impediment. But rather, that I had to miss part of the only thing I liked about school...ART! I lived for art. I was teased for the way I talked, but no one could tease me about my art. I sewed my own stuffed animals. I filled sketch book after sketch book with drawings. My grandmother taught me to cross stitch and embroider. I loved to make things out of clay. Give me a new box of crayons and some construction paper, and I was happy for hours.

Some things never change. Well, I guess these days I'd rather have new acrylic paints and scrapbook paper. But, I just simply NEED a creative outlet. I've finally come to see that art is in my heart, and it's therapeutic. A must for my emotional health.

So, when my friend (and neighbor!) Jessica suggested a craft club, I was ALL about that! She and I have compared new craft techniques, and thrown out the "let's craft sometime" mantra too many times to count. But, with six kids between us....you know how it goes. Setting a regular time to get together and craft with friends--just for the fun of it--FABULOUS!

Thus, the Art and Soul Craft Club was born. We picked the first Thursday of the month, and we are making it up as we go along. Here's how it's come together so far. We take turns hosting. Whoever does not host is responsible for choosing the craft, sending the evite, and purchasing the supplies. Whoever hosts needs only to have their house ready. Guests pay only to cover supplies and they bring snacks. This is not a money making endeavor--just a chance for girlfriends to get together and find their inner crafter. We've apparently hit a nerve, as the response has been amazing. It's not an exclusive thing. We've just let word of mouth spread the news.

We are considering a logo, and thinking about creating a binder with all craft instructions and supply lists. Anyone who wants a binder simply pays an annual fee. The binder will also include a calendar for birthdays and other gift giving dates so lists of crafty gift ideas can be organized. Wanting to add some more "soul" to our art, we are considering ways to serve others through our crafts, and maybe even an additional time to meet for Bible study. We want this club to be whatever God intends for it to be. And, we are loving the chance to try some new things and build our friendships.

At our first meeting, we made bottle cap necklaces. Here are some of the girls working at Jessica's house.

Some of the finished products. These bottle caps were filled with resin (Enviro Tex Lite) to seal them, and then a magnet was glued on the back. The necklace has a washer on it, and the bottle caps can be switched out, attaching to the washer.

At our April Art and Soul, we made domino necklaces, glass tile necklaces, and scrabble tile necklaces. Here's a few samples:


These are a few of the necklaces I've made for gifts. Jessica taught me how to bead them! She is a wonder of amazing creativity.
I'd love to hear from you guys out there (all both of you!). Any craft ideas we should try? Ideas for using our creativity as an outreach? Wish to give me your e-mail address for instructions or supply lists? Just leave a comment! You, too, may need to add a little art to your heart.

Jason Mesnick is not a popular person right now. And, if you did not get sucked into the black hole of mindless entertainment that is The Bachelor (or you've just returned from a six month mission trip in the bush of Africa)...then you may not know what I'm talking about. My husband thinks I should fall into the latter category as he was stumped by my interest in this not-really-based-on-reality show. But, girls--you get it, don't you? We girls are suckers for a good love story--going back to our childhood dreams of Prince Charming. Sigh. We all know now that Jason Mesnick and Prince Charming have little in common.

But, I have news for you all. Jason did NOT write the book on Bachelor scandals. In fact, I'm wondering if there is any reality in this show at all, or if they just plagarized the whole plot and created a script from a REAL life Bachelor of long ago. Let me tell you the true story, although I'm not sure it qualifies as a fairy tale.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a young, handsome, and very rich man. Let's call him Brandt. Brandt's star was on the rise--in fact, he was posed to make history with his achievements. As the story began, he actually was not a bachelor, but in fact, very much married. Being quite proud of himself, he decided to flaunt all that he had to prove his celebrity and fame. No party could compare (sorry MTV and VH-1). It went on for days, with drinks flowing for all around, served from goblets made of gold--no two alike. In his drunken stupor, he demanded that his gorgeous wife make her co-hostess appearance for their guests. He really just wanted to show off his arm candy. Seeing right through his intentions, she refused. So he, being the arrogant man he was, gave a Trump like verdict, telling her, "You're FIRED!" And, thus began his role as the Bachelor.

In true Bachelor fashion, auditions were held to find the most beautiful, eligible girls in the land. They were to come live in his mansion, and compete for his attention. In an ultimate rose ceremony--one of them would become the new Mrs. Like the girls on the famous show, these ladies were given the royal treatment. Makeovers, beautiful jewelry to wear, and gorgeous gowns to flatter their amazing figures and slim (never-birthed-a-baby) hips. And, just like Jason, this Bachelor had one-on-one dates with the contestants. While the television show leaves you wondering, the original Bachelor made his intentions known. The contestants were to impress him with their--a-hem--romantic abilities as they spent the night together. (And, the picture of discretion, the Bachelor had the camera turned off during these intimate times.)

After each contestant left the Bachelor, they went back to live with the other ladies, anxiously waiting to see if they were would be the ONE asked to accept that final rose. Yes, the typical drama and catfights ensued as jealousy ran rampant. But, finally, the Bachelor was most impressed and smitten with one he just knew (FOR REAL this time) he wanted to spend the REST of his life with (forget that first wife--she doesn't count). So, in a happily-ever-after to end all others, the lucky lady was asked to accept not just the rose, but the proposal! Her graceful little hand could hardly contain the bling placed upon it. And, so an amazing and elaborate wedding took place.

Fast forward a few years to an episode of After the Rose. Do we find our lovely couple canoodling on the couch, declaring their love on national television, eyes only for each other? Perhaps, they are appearing to annouce an upcoming heir to the throne, so to speak? Ummm....NO. Actually, she isn't even on the couch. She's alone. In her room. In fact, she hasn't even seen or heard from her HUSBAND, the former Bachelor, in a month! Can you imagine? She's been cast aside, and she KNOWS her husband has been entertaining other ladies. Melissa's heartbreak from Jason cannot compare to THAT rejection.

Do you know who I'm talking about? If you've been blessed enough to study Beth Moore's It's Tough Being a Woman, you may have guessed that I'm speaking about King Xerxes and Queen Esther. You see, no matter the drama and scandal--nothing really is new under the sun. And, while Jason and Molly's 15 minutes of infamy will quickly run out and the public will lose interest--that long ago Bachelor is forever immortalized in the Book of all Books.

So, this whole story-line had me thinking.....(see hubby? Mindless televison CAN=spiritual lessons). Esther, and all the other potential brides, were given one year of beauty treatments to prepare for their night with the king. It was a critical time, to be sure. This was it. Their chance to earn the crown. For all those romantics out there--I have GREAT news! Each and every one of us is also the Princess Bride--and we, too, have time to prepare for our night with the King. Our time on earth is that trial time--that time to beautify ourselves for our King. Not in the fleshly sense, but rather in improving our inner beauty, striving to more radiantly reflect the love of our King. You want to know the BEST news of all? As daughters of Christ, we are promised an eternal night with our King of Kings. He promises to place crowns of reward on our heads at that time...although we will promptly cast them back at his feet in adoration. Oh, they'll be a wedding feast, that's for sure. And a happily ever after like none other.

It's been a while since I've blogged...many deep thoughts, and I will find time to share them as creatively and succinctly as possible. I've long ago realized what a "note thinker" I am--constantly thinking about notes I should write to encourage my friends and loved ones. I'm afraid I've also become a "blog thinker," spending those last moments of wakefulness mentally writing out the next blog post, with some deep and meaningful reflections on life. I promise to get them written out if you promise to come back to read them!

I must explain my absence. My very generous mom-in-law and her husband GAVE us a week's vacation in Mexico, which we booked for Spring Break. Since my last blog post, I have been busy not only preparing for our big trip, but also squeezing in 3 overnight trips to visit said in-laws within the 3 weeks prior to our vacation. I've been so blessed to be able to attend some really fun events with my mom-in-law, including a fund raising dinner, a museum exhibit opening, and a ladies' luncheon. I have joked about being an average SAHM by day, jet setter by night. Truly, it's just been a ton of fun of not-the-usual.

AND, speaking of NOT the usual, I have a guest blogger today. We were so fortunate to be in Ajijic, Mexico for the last week, and celebrated my middle child's 8th birthday there. If you know Cooper, you know how expressive and creative he is. He was so taken by the beauty of this quaint little village on our first day there, that he immediately grabbed a sketch book and his journal. Here are this thoughts, in his own words:

Mexico is beautiful! I hear so much birds. I'm going to an art walk today for my birthday! It's going to be awesome. On the way here, it was bumpy air. I just saw a humming bird up close and personal. The flowers here come in so many colors and they are so beautiful! The palm trees in the courtyard are so TALL! I really wish I lived here! From the top patio, I drew the mountain I saw. This morning I opened the doors in my room that leads to the outside room that leads outside. It was so peaceful.

There you have it, folks. We've spent the last week being reminded of how horrible our Spanish is...which is probably why we coined our infamous favorite farewell....hasta la pasta, friends! Until next time.

What can I say? I have a new obsession...after the success of Valentine's day around here, I began thinking about the next occasion...St. Patrick's Day. Hmm...... I loved the teaching moments I could seize about Valentine's--not too tricky to contemplate how to tie in some deep lessons about God's love and our call to love. Everyone loves love, right? It makes the world go 'round.

But, St. Patrick's Day? What does GREEN have to do with God? Or, aside from green, the favorite "kiss me, I'm Irish" motto? Or the assortment of St. Patrick's beer-drinking themed paraphernalia I found at the Dollar Tree? Not seeing much to apply to my little darlings here....

So, I got to thinking (and a tidbit of praying) about St. Patrick's Day. I love to celebrate any occasion, love teaching moments, and love being more intentional in my mothering. I was determined. As I mulled over the worldwide Luck of the Irish day, I remembered the wisdom of my dad.

As a rookie pastor in a tiny town at a Baptist church where my sister and I WERE the youth group (this is not a joke)...my dad did the unthinkable. He did away with Potluck Dinners. I know this seems shocking, and perhaps grounds for his ex-communication from the Southern Baptist Convention. However, he instead instituted Pot Grace Dinners, emphasizing how luck has nothing to do with it.

A-ha! My light bulb moment! We'll create a BLESSINGS chart, and each evening for the next two weeks or so, we'll work on it during dinner. We can each list a way God intervened in our day, and our chart will be called "No Such Luck." What a great opportunity to emphasis to our children that God, not dumb luck, orders our days.

This is probably more meaningful than making my children drink green beer, or go around kissing random people because they claim to be Irish. Don't ya think?!

I've got it! The invention of a lifetime. Better than the slanket. Or the clapper. Or even the chia pet. It's guaranteed to earn me MILLIONS of dollars, as well as worldwide fame, and accolades from moms around the globe. Oh, I'm giddy at the thought.....

Here it is. It's a label that we mothers of preschoolers can slap onto their precious little backs when they come out in that fashion faux pas of an outfit. You know--the kind that makes you want to duck your head in public, loudly exclaiming for all to hear as the child cling to your legs, "EXCUSE me, little child, do I KNOW you?" This label can be applied with a simple pat on the back (as in, we are PROUD of their independence)...and the label reads in large NEON letters, "THIS child dressed himself. I am a mother allowing my child the freedom of expression."

Boy, if I had a dime for every time I coulda used that label over my ten years of mothering. My compliant oldest child was not so much a problem. He was not only compliant in his behavior, but also in his clothing choices. And, for you inquiring minds, NO, this has NOT lasted! I find it laughable (albeit exasperating) how he now tugs and moans at his Sunday clothes, weeping and nashing his teeth about how he can't wait to "GET OUT of these SUNDAY CLOTHES!" And, for the record--they usually consist of jeans and a collared shirt. Seriously. Too bad he doesn't appreciate that in MY day, little boys wore ties to church!

Now, my middle child was born a middle child and we weren't even planning to have a third. He has always been, shall we say, more of an independent thinker. He doesn't mind obeying the rules--as long as he can make them. HE was the child for whom this label idea could have been really handy for me. I suppose I've either had early senility set in, or I've repressed the memories of his preschool days because a friend recently reminded me of when she first met me--and my middle child. He had his clothes on inside out. And, backwards. And, he liked it that way. Day after day. Being quite artistic, he liked to wear LOTS of colors, and didn't care if they matched or not. He is where I learned to pick my battles. He'd proudly come down the stairs, oblivious to the fact he should be arrested by the fashion police, or that he'd be in a shoe in for "What Not to Wear." Taking a deep breath, and calmly (so as to not provoke the child), I'd say, "Um, your shirt is on backwards. And, your shorts. And, they are inside out." He'd smile smugly, and say, "Yep. I like it that way." UGH. If at all possible, I'd cancel all plans that involved going out in public.

My youngest child has a bit more fashion sense, but she, too, can occasionally have a "fashion don't" kind of day. Like last week. When she wore turquoise and neon green tights, a too-short denim skort, a light blue tank top, and a fuschia hoodie. Are you getting a picture? It was a day she was going to preschool, of course. I was debating whether it was worth it, as I looked at the clock and knew we were running behind. I decided to feel her out a bit first. "Sweet angel, that outfit...um. Well, let's pick a shirt that matches those tights. And, I think that skort is too short." She simply stood in front of the mirror, twirling in complete adoration, and said confidently, "I think I look beautiful." Coulda used that label that day, too......

I guess I have to admit, however, that my Heavenly Father could use a similar label on me some days. I wake up grumpy, and stomp around, clothed in my selfishness and pride, and short tempered to top it all off. The day goes horribly wrong, and then I cling to Him, throwing a fit about my DISASTROUS day, and He probably would like for all to hear him exclaim, "EXCUSE me, do I KNOW YOU?" He'd love to slap a label on my back saying, "Ugh, she dressed herself today." Because I missed the boat--backwards and inside out--and smugly declaring I like it that way. All the while, He has a fabulous outfit picked out just for me. You, see, "as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience." Colossians 3:12.

May I remember how childish I can be in my "dressing" for the world to see the next time I see a preschooler sporting their bright apple green frog rain boots with their red inside out and backwards shorts with a powder blue t-shirt, also inside out and backwards. Not that this example was from real life, mind you--I'm speaking hypothetically, of course.

For those inquiring minds (and I am sure that both of you that read this blog have stayed up nights wondering after reading my post "Can't buy me love")....My Valentine plan WORKED! I love it when a plan comes together!!! And, since I had made my intentions known to the world at large via the world wide web, I felt the need to be a woman of my word. So, I was determined, whether snow or sleet (not likely in Texas).. hail or tornado (yes, both during Valentine's week)...or even a great grandma whose need for stitches turned into a need for a ventilator (albeit briefly and boy, did she fuss at the doctor who put that tube down her throat).

I did, indeed, create my own fabulous chair back baskets--without the creepy owl eyes staring at you. I personally think Pottery Barn might want to place a patent on my idea. After all, the hearts are removable and you can switch out the holiday decor! Okay, maybe not, but here's a glimpse.
The whole grandma-in-the-hospital-thing threatened to kill this plan, and I pictured pulling an all-nighter in order to get these done....but I was able to get them knocked out without the need for a sleepless night. Our children awoke on Valentine morn to find these little gems attached to their chairs, with candy and love notes from mom and dad. (Even if one child gave the candy back because he didn't like that kind). Of course, we missed the magical moment because everyone here knows that mom and dad sleep in on Saturdays.

The kids loved the heart-shaped pancakes, and it didn't hurt that they were chocolate chip.
(note to reader: please don't look too closely at this little sweetie's nose...allergies are the thorn in her side)

Because Great-grandma was in the hospital, my in-laws had flown into town for the weekend. This only made the day better for everyone, and we got to eat lunch together (except great-grandma who was still in ICU). I wasn't even too bummed that I had overnighted the in-law's Valentines to them, which arrived while they were here. My husband must have caught the Valentine bug, because he surprised me, our daughter, his mom, and his grandma with roses. Oh la la!

I did go with the heart-shaped meatloaf idea for dinner. It tasted yummy, and was festive--even if maybe it did remind me of my bloody Valentine. Any feedback here?
After dinner, we surprised our kids with the Scavenger Hunt, sending them all over the house to find the basket of goodies (a basket with heart-shaped holes, nonetheless!).

Hmm....can you tell WHICH child likes to pretend he's not interested? (I don't allow myself to believe he's really NOT interested).
(See? You see the smile on his face...I know you agree with me--he really does like all this stuff. Especially when it involves goodies and gifts).

And, just when the kids thought the fun was over--we did our "love posters." I took 12"x 12" scrapbook paper, and used alphabet letters to spell our each family member's name on a separate sheet of paper. With colored markers, we wrote on each paper, telling what we loved about that person. Yes, the squabbling brothers had to work at this, but hey--so what if what they love about the other is that coveted toy? (just kidding).

I plan to frame these pages and hang them in our house. There you go--a meaningful and budget conscious decorating idea. It's like a bonus blog.

Last but not least, YES, I did our "Love Chart." We award heart stickers when each child displays a different characteristic of love from 1 Corinthians 13. In fact, the chart is still going. It's such a hit, we decided to keep it going for a while. Because I had it laminated, I can remove the stickers, and simply roll it up and reuse it next year.

The whole planning and implementing was a lot of fun for ME. I loved doing something for the kids that makes me feel like the kind of mom I WANT to be. I think I may be on a roll here....I'm mulling over Saint Patrick's Day ideas.... Hmmm.......green chocolate chip pancakes in a shamrock shape?

My husband can sleep through a hurricane. This is not a metaphor. This is a fact. As a kid, he woke up one morning to find that school was cancelled. His mom explained that Hurricane Alicia had come through the night before. Downed trees all up and down the street confirmed the rumor. And, apparently, this is a genetic trait. You see, my in-laws decided to ride out Hurricane Ike last September. In their condo. On the thirteenth floor of a Houston high-rise. Can you believe it?! I didn't think it was a good plan either. Particularly when their hourly e-mail updates via their Blackberry included this statement: "Winds predicted to be 175 miles or more. Think our windows are hurricane proof for 175 mph. Will close up heavy curtains to cover windows." What?! I pictured these "heavy curtains" billowing in the wind as the windows blew out and my in-laws were sucked out and tossed about like that cow scene from the movie Twister. Within a few hours, their e-mail simply read, "Going to bed. Will call in the a.m." Sleep they did, with no need to test how their curtains might save the day. Thankfully, the hurricane windows held.

As they sent photos from the "front lines," I was intrigued by this photo that the Houston Chronicle and even national news outlets were showing.
Again--can you believe it?! I couldn't either, and the story behind it was even more unbelievable. After the homeowners had their house destroyed in Hurricane Rita in 2005, they were determined to rebuild. Only better. After consulting with experts, they set out to build a house that would be stronger and better equipped to withstand the winds and waves. Despite the fact that the storm surge did enter their home during Ike, it was the only house still standing.

Intrigued by this photo, I got to thinking about it, and suddenly saw it as a picture of how tragedy in our lives can be redeemed. Psalm 25:22 says, "Redeem Israel, O God,out of all his troubles." When I've felt my heart smashed to bits from the storms of life, I've loved the idea of God buying back those shambles and redeeming my heart ache, turning it into something good. Kinda like the story of poor Joseph. He was first the victim of sibling rivalry run rampant, and then, the victim of a woman who didn't like to be told no, so she had him thrown into jail. But, time and time again, God redeemed Joseph's troubles, giving him a way out. And, in the end, Joseph finds it in his heart to forgive those scoundrels he called brothers, telling them, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives," Genesis 50:20.

We, too, can have a Joseph "light-bulb" moment when we see God rebuild the ruins of our lives. It's not easy--it doesn't happen quickly. But, somewhere, somehow, when we give the wreckage to Him, and let Him--He will rebuild. And, the next time the winds howl and the waves crash, everything around us might be destroyed, but we'll be better prepared to withstand the storms of life.

It began innocently enough. My sister-in-law Carrie suggested we join this new fangled internet thingy called Facebook. She was moving off to Ohio for college, and said we HAD to join so we could stay in touch with her. She logged onto her profile on her new college-ready laptop to show us how FABULOUS it was. My computer saavy husband was game....being technically challenged, I reluctantly agreed for the love of Carrie.

How naive I was in the beginning! Like Bambi stumbling through his first attempt to stand...I somehow managed to create my account. And on occasion, I would actually remember how to log in and check in on Carrie. My, how times have changed! If I had to be honest about my hobbies, I would have to list scrap booking, writing (and blogging of course), reading...and Facebook. Make fun of me if you'd like....but Facebook has allowed me to connect with people I have not seen in literally decades. We have planned a sorority reunion AND a baby shower via Facebook, and I have online chatted with friends in France and Japan. (I have also successfully managed to stay in touch with my sister-in-law.)

So, this all had me thinking about how Facebook is a little like God. I was considering a blog post on this topic when my pastor began a new sermon series on faith entitled "Faithbook." A-ha! I'm no fool...I knew that I had to share my random spiritual musings with you.

You see, God wants to be our friend. In fact, every person on the earth has a friend request, just sitting and waiting for a response. 1 Peter 3:9 says that, "He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish." But, like Facebook, we have to ACCEPT that friend request. Revelations 3:20 says, "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in." Once we have accepted the friend request, it's a done deal. We have a relationship with the God of the Universe. An active prayer life involves writing on God's wall, and reading what He writes on ours. We even have access to "online chatting" with Him anytime, anywhere. But, sometimes, we forget to log in--getting sidetracked by the speed of life. We go on about our day, missing the message He has for us. And, what nuggets we would find if we'd just open up our Bible to read those messages! I hardly go a day without checking in on Facebook....hmm. I can't always say the same about my Bible reading habits.

Like Facebook, God also sends us flair. Have you ever gotten a piece of flair on Facebook that just made your day? You know--you laughed out loud, or were happy someone thought of you? God does that! If we'd just look around, we'd see the pieces of flair that He sends us daily. Sometimes, it's a prime parking space when you are a new mom, dragging around a clumsy infant carrier. Or, maybe it's a well spoken and thoughtful word from a friend JUST when you need it. Perhaps, it's a plumber who comes immediately when your hot water heater is spraying water all over your laundry room during aforementioned Facebook-planned baby shower.

Here's another way Facebook is a little like God. Maybe you, too, have recently discovered even more about your Facebook friends through the 25-random-things-about-me game. God is like that! We may THINK we know Him. But, you see, there's an endless list of random things about Him that we can spend a lifetime striving to learn. I love how Ephesians 3:18 says that we need power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep the love of Christ is . And, like these fun lists, it's so rewarding to learn more about Him! It allows us to love him more, to serve him better, to be better equipped to invite others to be His friend (and follower), too.

The body of Christ also has similiarities to Facebook. Our family of faith should be like the "home page" on Facebook--where we can see the updates on each other's lives, knowing the status of our friends and what is going on with them. Church isn't a place to paste on a fake smile, covering up the pain or struggles with which we are really wrestling. When asked how we are, we should say, "Heather is boo today!" or "Heather is trying to figure out this parenting thing." Through our FAITHbook family, we can unite to create groups and tackle causes, drawing the attention of others, inviting them to join, too. We should tell our friends, and they can tell theirs, and so on, and so on.

Even the Facebook motto is a little like God. When you log onto Facebook, it says, "facebook helps you connect and share with the people in your life." This is true. There's something nice about having Facebook in common...a common forum--a common ground--that brings me together with people I may not connect with otherwise. God is like that! He helps us connect with those already in our lives--to share with them more effectively. He is the foundation for a successful marriage, the owner's manual for our kids, and the answer for confusing relational issues. And, for those more on the "fringe" of my life...facebook gives us a common ground. God, too, is the common ground--all the world over. No matter where you go, in any country or city, you can connect with perfect strangers because of God.

You know the most amazing thing about Facebook that makes me think of God? Someday, I'll look into his FACE and find that my name is in the BOOK of life! That makes me want to change my status...."Heather is eternally grateful, covered by grace."

Some things just make me really happy. You know--sweet hugs from my kids, an unexpected handwritten note in the mail, a morning cup of coffee from my Keurig, a surprise date with my husband.....and the TV show "Jon and Kate Plus 8." I just love how real they are, and...who can resist those PRECIOUS children? I was also endeared by the index cards on Kate's cabinets with Scriptures written all over them. You gotta love a show that your whole family can enjoy AND that makes you feel that even your hardest day is relatively easy.

So, for my fellow Jon and Kate fans, you might have also caught the Valentine episode where Kate planned a full day of fun to celebrate love, love, love. I think the little kids were 2?! For once, that episode left me feeling completely inadequate. I mean, instead of the usual "misery loves company" feeling, I had a major "loser mom" moment. Kate--mother to 8 children--planned and perfectly executed an entire day to make her kids feel special, complete with adorable matching Valentine shirts for all, heart shaped pancakes, and a scavenger hunt. I, on the other hand, with my tiny brood of 3, had barely managed to grab some Valentine candy at the Target dollar spot.

Nearly 2 years later--I'm still haunted. Thus, I've made a decision...THIS shall be the year that makes all other Valentine Days pale in comparison. THIS will be the year my children will refer to when they say--"remember when Mom started making Valentine special?" THIS will be the benchmark, the beginning, the defining moment....a new tradition at my little casa.

Thought I'd share my ideas, in case you, too, are haunted by Kate's amazing efforts. My first order of business....where, pray tell, did Mrs. Gosslin score those darling Valentine chairbacks? You know, the precious little MONOGRAMMED holders she placed on each chair to hold a love note and a goodie?! I found these at Pottery Barn:
Maybe it's just me...but these creep me out. They are NOT the adorable, red-with-hearts version as seen on TV. So, my first order of business--to either find some obscure website source, hidden after hours of futile online searching--or to create them myself. I've actually been thinking of making something to match my kitchen that I can have monogrammed. Then, I can make them all occasion chairbacks by attaching a heart with Velcro for Valentine's, a cross or egg for Easter's, maybe a smiley face for just-need-me-some-love days. (Help a girl in need if you have some advice here).

Of course, the reason for the season is L-O-V-E, and the most important demonstration of love is that God so loved us that he gave his only begotten Son. So creating a teaching moment for my children would be a great Valentine tradition. As I thought through us, I had the idea to create a Valentine specific reward chart that we can start a couple of weeks before Valentine's--sort of a Love Advent-type countdown. The chart will have a list of the characteristics of love as listed from 1 Corinthians 13. I'll laminate it and assign a sticker color per child. As I catch them showing patience or kindness--or even NOT being rude--I'll give them a sticker. On Valentine's Day, they can cash in their stickers for some fabulous reward.

I also plan to make those Gosslin-ish heart shaped pancakes as well as other heart-shaped food--such as sandwiches for lunch, and maybe a heart shaped meatloaf for dinner? (Or would that be too "my bloody Valentine"?) I think we'll melt some crayons in heart-shaped muffin tins that my youngest kids can give to their classmates. And, I was thinking it would be fun to create a "love poster" for each family member. On Valentine's Day, we can take turns writing what we love about each person on their poster. Lastly--because I shouldn't waste time reinventing the wheel--I think we'll have a scavenger hunt for the kids to find a treasure chest of tokens of our love--just like Jon and Kate.

As I get older, I'm realizing more and more how simple things really can be. The world will know we are His by our LOVE, and LOVE covers a multitude of sins. Valentine's Day is the perfect time to show my kids the LOVE of our Father. In the words of the great James Taylor....I'll shower the people I Iove with love, and show them the way I feel. Perhaps, we might end the day snuggled together on the couch, watching the Valentine episode of Jon and Kate....

Generally, I see this blog as an outpouring of spiritual musings and insights I have gained through life's journey. Today, I take a more light hearted approach. Just for fun--and inspired by the game "25 Random Things about Me" on Facebook, I decided to share with you--the one reader (AKA my husband) and anyone else who accidentally comes across my blog--25 Random Rules about Life.

1. As a general rule of thumb, children ALWAYS get sick at 5:01 p.m. on Fridays. Expect it--be prepared for it. That is why the CVS Minute Clinic is my best friend.
2. 5 hours alone with a grumpy child is an eternity. 5 hours alone while your children are in Mother's Day Out passes in the blink of an eye.
3. It's usually not so effective to yell, "QUIT BEING SO IMPATIENT!" to your children.
4. After an exhausting day of mothering and your husband's exhausting day at work--watching "American Idol" together while brain dead on the couch DOES indeed count as quality time.
5. Yes, grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up tomato soup DOES indeed count as a home cooked meal.
6. Never underestimate the power of a comfortable pair of PJ's to soothe a rough day away. Put them on AS SOON as you enter your house.
7. Many important life lessons can be gleaned from the High School Musical trilogy--we ARE all in this together, we gotta go OUR own way, and we sometimes do need FABULOUS.
8. Speaking of FABULOUS--a great pair of jeans, sassy boots, velour sweatsuits, and bling t-shirts.
9. We need to be more understanding of regional differences. My smoothing-her-hair down Canadian cousin CAN really be good friends with a back-combing-big-Texas-hair girl.
10. Time Outs are not just for children.
11. Just like a good movie, life requires a good soundtrack. Play your favorite music loudly and proudly. $15 is a small price to pay for a little joy in your life!
12. Dave Ramsey has it right--who needs to keep up with the Joneses? They are probably knee deep in a debt and a paycheck away from bankruptcy.
13. Discernment is an important skill in choosing joy. As my BFF says about something that just isn't true--"THAT is a lie from the pit of hell. REJECT IT!"
14. Speaking of lies from the pit of hell, I reject my Wii fit age.
15. If you can't find me at home, you may try looking at Hobby Lobby. Or Target.....
16. If you aren't going to see the same people 2 days in a row, you may wear that same favorite outfit 2 days in a row. BUT, not if it's 110 degrees outside--you can't mask sweat stink, even with Dolce and Gabbana's Light Blue perfume.
17. Skirtini swimsuits have changed my life. No shaving and maximum cover-up for a mom of three kids.
18. LIfe is too short to referee every fight between your children. They'll usually figure it out for themselves eventually. If not, step in before the blood gushes.
19. Give your children choices--as long as both options are what you want them to pick. For instance, "do you want to go have quiet rest time in your room or lie in your bed for a nap?"
20. Keep a Digorno pizza in the freezer for THOSE kind of days....
21. The true sign of a good friend is someone who will babysit swap with you--they love on your kids AND allow you and your man to keep the fire burning.
22. The word "anniversary" is Greek for "a weekend getaway." You better cling to the meaning of that word.
23. Family doesn't just mean people you are related to. In fact, the best family members are often those you choose along the way.
24. If your best friend isn't the man you sleep next to, you might need to develop that friendship.
25. Good fences make good neighbors. Setting boundaries is an important life skill--for yourself and for your kids. No is a powerful word. You should invest yourself in two things--(1) that which God has undoubtedly called you to and (2) those things that build you up.