I Failed...Oh Wait!

Today has been a day. No different than any other day...pushing, shoving, yelling, me yelling..part of our daily routine. However today, I threatened to go on vacation for a week without them and see how smoothly their days go when I'm not here. Not my finest hour. I was just beyond frustration. Repeating myself, over-using the phrase "stop that", was more than I could handle on just one cup of coffee.
Later, I just sat in the bathtub trying to convince myself to be happy enough to enjoy dinner with my parents, siblings and niece and nephews(which I did), and cried. I'm exhausted and tired of feeling like a grouchy mom. The boy-ness in this house drowns me. I love all the things that make my boys, boys. Most of the time. Except for today. And today I cried. I failed.
As usual, when I see my sister's family, I end up with one of her angels and she takes one of mine. Cousin sleepovers are all the rage, you know. Sam and my nephew pulled out our art box and began drawing. Sam is working on shadowing(how cute is my little artist!). I watched for awhile then laid on the floor and picked up my own paper and pencil. We giggled as Sam told his "big stories" and Sam even asked if I would sign my work of art for him, as he did the same for me.
Then it was late. Bedtime tuck-ins, kisses, hugs, smiles. Sam told his cousin in response to I don't even know what; "That is one thing about my mom, she's always funny!" Who knew I was funny? Sammy did. Not grouchy, mean or ridiculous, I'm funny. Thanks for reminding me Sam. I haven't seen 'that mom' through my guilt, I'm glad you do.

Anticipation

I experienced and continue to be blessed by the experience of Christmas, all year long. I understand why I celebrate Christmas and the miracle that this Miracle has given to me as a free gift, no returns. I am thankful for the birth and death of Jesus, for without it, I'd be wandering aimlessly in this world where any other answer to the questions, "who am I, what is my purpose?" would return void.
The remainder of this post will be very cliche, Christmas is coming banter, yet hopefully reflect the joy I find in giving to my boys.
I started in October encouraging my three boys to begin writing their Christmas wish lists. Of course, like most of the time, when I encourage them to itemize, organize or plan, they ignored my requests. So when Black Friday rolled around, I headed out at 12:00am with only the gift I wanted for Jerry on my list. As my sister and mom stood in line for the items they desired, I wandered through the store looking for ideas. I found a 2011 Guinness Book of World Records, perfect for my son Tanner, who like his father enjoys owning a wealth of useless facts. For Owen, my obsessive reader, a clip-on book light. For Sam, a pogo stick that he can enjoy at home and not envy the one he has enjoyed at our friends house for endless jumps. I continued to shop until 8am then headed home for a nap. Jerry and I headed back out to the stores that evening. As we brainstormed, we stumbled upon the perfect "big" gift for each boy. We came home and wrapped and wrapped and wrapped. We were so pleased with what we had found for the boys. After a couple on-line orders, our shopping was finished.
As the holiday was drawing closer, I had two thoughts: 1-our boys are so spoiled they have nothing to ask for or 2- they are so content with their lives they can't name anything they want. I will selfishly tell myself that it is the latter in order to boost my parenting philosophy ego.
They have finally begun to randomly make requests. So far we have already gotten all of them! (not that I'm getting anything else anyway) I am finding intense joy in knowing my children so well that I was able to fulfill wishes they didn't even know they had until now. I am finding myself anticipating our fun-filled morning as much as they do. Seeing the expressions on their faces, the wiggles in their posture, the joy in their hearts.......I anticipate.
I wasn't planning on making a spiritual reference but as I wrote the previous paragraph it just occurred to me how my perfect Father rejoices when He gives us the gift of dreams fulfilled. If my anticipation is this great, I can't even begin to imagine His. Waiting, to give us the gifts we desire and don't even know we desire, in His infinite wisdom and timing. I am gushing, knowing we are going to bring excitement to our children. I honestly believe Jesus is feeling the same way, only magnified. He knows my deepest desires, requests. He knows when and which ones He will fulfill. He anticipates too.
I saw this quote on a friends facebook page "You can give without loving but you can't love without giving." I. Love. This. I can give to anyone and not love them but my family possess such a large portion of my love I am instinctively inclined to give to them. My desire to give to them is not a way for me to receive love, it's an uncontrollable urge that flows from my love. It's not a choice, it's an effect. I anticipate the effect of the effect.

grown up

Not fifteen, a young woman
Your spirit is free, your heart sincere
wise and observant.

I remember a playful freshman
eyes fixed on boys
investing, reaching, not knowing if you were there.

I witnessed transformation
steady growth.
Dreamed for you
where He might lead you.

I pride in you like my child
daughter in spirit.
Maturing, a young lady
friend.

Wisdom so rare
in years so fresh
You are there
yet just beginning.

Admiration, awe
pride and Love.
For you my little girl
grown up.


Olivia, I'm so glad I've seen you grow, follow to lead and become this impressive young woman that you are. I see so much of me in you at the age of twenty, yet your doing it so much better. I am so proud of you my sweet girl. I will forever be thankful that God allowed us to be connected. I love you.

Is There a Flower Under There?

Ok, I haven't blogged in like, forever! I miss it so. Busyness of life has distracted me. However, being away has reminded me of how much I need this outlet. I have a mind that is always reeling, thinking, dreaming, wondering and pondering. My sweet hubby is just the opposite. He is very black and white and simplistic in his reasoning. Not simple-minded, just very cerebral in his train of thought. Sooo..sometimes my revelations are met with blank stares of attempts to understand. I am female and he is male, it's how we're hardwired. I love him for trying to understand my musings yet knowing me better than anyone else does.
On my mind the most? Friendships. The ones that matter. The ones that are more like family than friends. That disintegrate unexpectedly. The ones you remember sharing laughter and tenderness with, that have left a hole in your existence by in their absence.
Those friendships.
I recently heard a message on forgiveness. Genuine forgiveness, being granted to those who have wronged you, as a source of freedom. Freedom from getting stuck..releasing the inability to move forward because of the quicksand that is bitterness. Deep stuff, deep quicksand that I am climbing out of. It's a journey.
I'm at a place in that journey where I can give this wise counsel and also in the position to apply it. However in either scenario, it's not so easy to live it. It's difficult to tell someone else to "let it go" and even trickier to convince yourself to do the same. I have to remove the beam from my own eye before I can take tweezers to the splinter in the eyes of my friends. I have to remind myself daily that giving said forgiveness is not excusing hurtful actions. I am releasing the constriction that I have allowed the hurt to have over me.
Some may call me naive but I do still believe there is goodness in everyone. I also believe people can change. There may be times when they revert to their "old self" but so do I, especially when I'm angry. I am making this realization as a friend from long ago has sprouted into my established garden. I am unsuccessfully pulling the weeds of our past away from the potential blossom of renewed friendship. My tendency is to grab the weed killer and shoot. However, the delicate seedling would never survive. A bountiful garden is never achieved in one day, it takes work, persistence. It needs the right balance of light(love), water(grace) and fertilizer(humbleness, I compare this to fertilizer because sometimes it just tastes like shit!). I'm sorry for the expletive but poo or crap just do not give adequate emphasis to the distaste I have for admitting I may have fault as well.
Telling another that they also need to tend to their garden is equally challenging. I am looking for the gate in the fence. I don't want to jump over it, I'm vertically (confrontationally)challenged. I'm praying for the latch to be easily lifted and an equally effortless entrance. But just in case, I'm putting on my jumping shoes instead of my restrictive muddy boots. I love you that much my friend.

What's on your ipod?

iam having a totally, well not totally, unproductive evening. You see, as iexperience successes in my business, ireward myself with gifts. No, not often. It's my love language-receiving gifts-and I'm not someone who shops endlessly due to lack of time and money. Anyhow, ibuy something for myself intsead of cutting myself a monetary check. Sometimes it's something simple, like a hair cut(usually way overdue!), this month it was an ipod(oh yea and some time in Georgia). At the beginning stage of a business so many of the funds are reinvested into growth so a paycheck is irregular, at least for me, so when I have been overwhelmed with orders ilike to treat myself now and then.
Like isaid....the ipod. iwent with the nano so icould afford to put songs onto this fun little device. ihave spent a ridiculous amount of time(jerry too) on itunes saying "what's that one song...?", "Oh, this is a good one!" and "Wow babe, look at this playlist, we are definitely INTO our 30's"
ilove all types of music. Worship, rap, hip hop, country, oldies(like my mom's music), oldies(like my kids call my music)......really anything, but especially songs with great harmonies. So now that ihave a whopping 93 downloads ihave been analyzing my playlists(why should this be different than anything else?). Now before iproceed, understand this is only my perspective on music choice, so in advance iapologize if your offended. istrive to be non judgemental, not indecisive, just not a scorner of other people's choices. Hopefully sometimes a light and always a friend who can reciprocate a real relationship. itend to believe someone who only likes one type of music leans on the close minded end of the spectrum. If you love pop but hate every other style of music, you are missing out on the unique contributions other styles lend to the art of music(isay as iam listening to hillsong united followed by tone-loc...seriously!) How can you be more relational than Country? Understand the stuggles of poverty and inner-city life more than in the lyrics of Rap? Less stressed than while dancing to a peppy pointless Pop Song? More taken back to your courtship than the sound of you and your husband's Power Ballad?...More connected to the Spirit than in the heart of Worship? Sure you can prefer one over the other but what would happen if you opened yourself up to something different, appreciated it for what is, and then carried that concept into friendships and even into ministry? iknow that if we were less busy judging and more busy developing a level of acceptance, we could build genuine relationships exceedingly and reach those who are starving for the ultimate acceptance. Before isign off, please know iget that we all struggle with judgement, we're human, it's a sin flaw, idon't claim to be above it, ijust think that it is the obstacle to beautiful harmonies. So I ask.....What's on your ipod?
p.s. im sorry this was so long, if all of my parenthesis annoy you and for ending my post with a question 2 days in a row!

Metamorphosis

Little boys, at the beginning are like every other child. they need nurtured, loved, fed, rocked.....they need their mommy. However, before you know it these sweet little creatures begin to realize they are something special...warriors. When mommy comes into the room expecting morning kisses, she may get one....followed by "bang, bang!" That's right a gunshot. Who taught them that fingers could pose as weapons? To climb trees at heights that mommy won't attempt and contemplates calling the local fire department for rescue? When did these sweet little babies become incapable of passing their brothers in the hallway without tackling?

"Mommies don't wrestle" is a constant in my vocabulary. Boys are inherently just that....BOYS. Created to exhibit strength. Do everything "hard"...play hard, love hard, and hard willed. Determined to prove their manliness by peeing on trees and accumulating scars. Convincing the baby-sitter that "mommy lets us" fill up a barrel and drop our 4 yr old brother into it as long as he's wearing his life jacket. The list goes on. With all this will and determination it is sometimes easy to feel inadequate in molding them. I can see daily, what a great job Daddy is doing. Teaching them responsibility, discipline, work, shaping them into the men they will become and just giving them the rough play they crave. When will I see the grace and empathy that I diligently strive to instill? The answer? Today. My oldest son is now 9. Over the last couple of months there has been a maturity switch that has flipped in him. He willingly obeys, he's immediately remorseful of backtalk and actually offers helpfulness. Yesterday while playing outside with Daddy he came running toward the door in 100% boy style. Aggressively and quickly. I heard the stampede approaching but didn't think twice about it until it happened. From my helpless perspective, it was in slow motion. Two hands braced straight forward intending to push open a door, come straight through out-dated, single pane glass. Instantly I am in well disguised panic mode, crossing hundreds of shards of glass to draw him in and inspect. "Are you ok, are you cut?(over and over again) Two 1/2 inch scrapes, that's all. Fear and the bleeding cuts produced little tears. The downpour came after he looked at Daddy cleaning up the mess. "I'm so sorry I broke the door" he managed to say through his sobbing. We repeatedly and genuinely explained we didn't care about the door, our concern was him. But he felt so badly, we could only assure him of our forgiveness and let him cry it out in our arms. This morning as he kissed me before he walked out that same door..."I really am sorry that I broke the door, Mommy, I know your glad I'm ok, but I just want you to know I meant it when I said I was sorry. I don't want you or Daddy to have to work extra to pay for it."

I'm so proud of you Tanner..the child you are and the man you will be. I'm so thankful for your tender heart!~Love Mommy

The Hen Meeting

This morning was a continuance of a new tradition. About one month ago four friends and I with children of the same age began having Tuesday morning coffee talks. My husband would call it a "Hen Meeting" or this morning he referred to it as an episode of The View........but regardless of what you call it, it has been very encouraging to me. All of the ladies have a grounded relationship with Christ and we are striving together to raise our children on the same ground. This morning we talked a lot about having "the talk" continuously throughout our children's lives. It was so refreshing to hear the different perspectives that we are facing. Two of us have all boys, one has all girls and the other two have both. (Heather wasn't there today but we missed her!) I love hearing the concerns of a mom with girls and being able to integrate that into the conversations that Jerry and I have with our boys about sex. TESSA made a reference to a class she had participated in at her church which stated "Our parents never talked about sex or money, but they had both!" And that was so profound to me.....and so true!! Sex was never described as a beautiful, sacred event between a husband and wife.......it was only advised that I "don't do it." In our family we are going to break the cycle of secrecy and shame and communicate to our boys the joy, intimacy and boundaries of a sexual relationship. I pray faithfully that Jerry and I will equip our boys to make wise decisions when hormones are raging...and beyond.

Saying "I'm sorry".........Priceless

(Mommy has a sinus infection so every spill, noise and complaint is amplified)Tonight after wrestling practice, I gave my middle child Owen a bath and then his supper, Italian sausage. After a few bites, he was at the refrigerator getting "more cheese". I told him he didn't need any more and he retreated to the fridge with the package of shredded cheese..........opened... and upside down. My back was to him and he came to me very meekly and said "Mommy, look." There was cheese everywhere and I snapped! I yelled at him and told him I had been cleaning all day and to go get the broom so I could clean up "more messes I didn't make!" He didn't cry, he just went to his room and as soon as my hand touched the broom handle my irrational reaction hit me like a ton of bricks. I called him back out and told him "I'm sorry Owen, Mommy shouldn't have yelled like that, it's just cheese. Will you forgive me?" A glossy eyed nod and a kiss and he went back to his room, still tear free. I didn't feel like I had truly expressed my remorse so I immediately called him back out, sat on the kitchen floor with him and said "Owen, Mommy's mess up some times too, and I really am sorry. It was an accident and I know you didn't mean to spill the cheese. (His eyes began to swell) Did Mommy make you feel sad?" A nod and the tears began to roll. I felt terrible. I just held him and reinforced my apology with big hugs and kisses and honest conversation. He said "I forgive you Mommy, I love you too." Later, as I gave the recount of the events to Jerry, I said "I'm so glad I called him back out the second time to say I messed up because he would have taken all that with him into his room and it would have stayed there, bottled up.........like I had to do so many times as a kid."
I just hate so much that I made his heart hurt like that. I'm supposed to be his protector, not offender. But what a beautiful blessing he gave to me........forgiveness. What a reminder...asking a son for forgiveness and receiving it freely. Priceless.

Spirituality w/o Religion? Sure. But w/o a relationship? No way.

Ok, so Oprah is fat again. Her words not mine. I'm not judging her on her weight gain, believe me, I get that. However, because of her weight gain, she has launched "Live Your Best Life Week", filled with every food, exercise, financial and spiritual guidance you need to be the best! The buzz about it is everywhere, even our local news.
The one thing that everyone seems so interested in is this concept that she is putting out there that you can "be spiritual" without being religious. Courtesy of her Spiritual Guru, Michael Beckwith,the author of Spiritual Liberation and Rev. Ed Baker who says "It is about our being connected with one another and connected with the cosmos," What?!? What are the "cosmos" anyway. This new age love yourself and everything in the stars will align bologna is starting to wear very thin on me. If you ask me, people have no problem loving themselves and most of the time, weight gain is a result of gluttony(Proverbs 23:21-For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty(lack of Spirit,I believe) Phillipians 3:19..their God is their belly. Overindulgence. Not only with the foods we eat, but in our pursuit of money, status and beauty. We love ourselves so much that we think we deserve an overabundance of these things.

(I'm not bashing healthy diet and exercise. I fully believe you should take care of His temple. I've resolved to concentrate on that a little more, myself.)

BUT THE POINT IS...Your "Spiritual Journey" should involve THE Spirit. It is not something you can create with teaching yourself that you deserve good things and filling yourself with positive thoughts. If you really aren't loving yourself, it is most likely the result of having a dead spirit. We have a "Jesus-sized" home inside of us and until you admit that you are a sinner, he is unable to move in. God is love 1John 4:8. If His Spirit is living inside of you, He will heal your broken heart, give you forgiveness and the ability to forgive and love others. If you accept and embrace this relationship, then you will begin to see yourself as He sees you, created in His image, LOVED AND INDIVIDUALLY UNIQUE. However, Jesus is not deceitful. He does not give you empty promises of the perfect body, family, job or a life without challenge. In fact, just the opposite Mt 5:10. You will have struggles, you will get hurt and life will be tough. But instead of relying on your own strength, you rely on His. You have a perfect Father and Comforter. He uses struggle to perfect your character, make you more like Him.
There is great Joy that comes with being a Christ Follower. You may not be skinny on earth but you will be loved. For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ. Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself. (Ph. 3:20-21) The awesome "bod" comes later!

The Best Gift We Bought

A pottery wheel. My husband is an outdoors man. He has passed that passion onto my three boys. I'm glad they can shoot dinner, if that is ever necessary and understand eco-systems and conservation. However, in my boy-filled world I have an increasing desire and passion of my own to expose them to culture and creativity. I have a creative brain and my husband's brain is practical. Our boys do possess both qualities so I want to feed my inheritance in them. We stuck to board games, play guns and art activities for Christmas gifts this year and my fave is the pottery wheel. Today my oldest decided he wanted to create his first masterpiece, I was overjoyed. Not only was he learning and developing an art, I was able to teach him. Kneading, forming and shaping.

I am not an artist in the sculpting, painting sense, but today I felt like I was. I was getting my hands dirty, guiding his little hands on the silhouette of the formless clay. I didn't go into long explanation of our Father as the Potter and we, the clay, because I didn't have to. I walked away from the finished product with the profound realization that I only pictured it to him. One day he will read and learn of the Potter and have a visual of what it means for the Creator to soften, mold and perfect our image into a unique, interesting work of art. And as a bonus, he'll think of me.