The Glad Game

I love the movie Pollyanna.  I think it is one of those really good movies that you can let your kids watch and not worry one bit about it.  I know that the cheese factor is high but I'm a sucker for cheese.  The more cheese the better if you ask me.  And, these days, since I can't eat cheese due to the Little Man's tummy the movie kind of cheese seems to curb my craving.

One of the reasons I love this movie so much is because Pollyanna and I seem to have a similar approach to life.  Rather than wallowing in circumstances Pollyanna chooses to, "play the glad game," and find something to be glad about.

This week was one where I had to make myself choose to be a Pollyanna.  I just had to find something to be glad about.  It was a week I will never forget but my hope is that rather than remember the trauma I will remember the God encounter and be glad.

On Wednesday, around 12:50pm in a Target parking lot, with my two sweet babies a man approached me with a gun while I was buckling The Bug in her seat.  He pointed it at me and told me to give him my ring.  I gave him my silver ring first.  He didn't like that one.  He asked if I had a purse.  I lied.  I threw my wedding ring at him and he ran and got in a get away car.

It was scary.  I called 911 and practically parked in Target.  I was right in the front.  I wanted to make a huge scene in case he wasn't happy with what he found and came back.  The police came.  I gave a report.  They dusted my car for finger prints. 

As I pulled out of the parking lot after everything was over, I cried out to God.  I was mad.  Who thinks they have the right to pull a gun out anyway near my children.  It was an injustice and that fires up my soul.  I cried out to God and first prayed for justice.  I want the man to know what he did was wrong.  Second, I asked God to draw near this young man.  I want to see his face again...in heaven one day.  I played through in my mind what a person must have gone through as a child, a teenager,  and young adult to do what he did.  I told my mom, "You shouldn't feel sorry for me.  He's the one you should feel sorry for."

I came home and took a shower...a long one.  I replayed the horrific experience moment by moment in my head.  I cried a lot.  It was the sobbing cry that comes from that deep gut-wrenching place...the one you save for when you are by yourself and in the most desperate of places. 

I told God that I didn't want to live in fear.  I want to be able to take my kids places and not think everyone is going to attack us.  I begged him to show me where His angels were during the whole experience.  Jesus where were you?

Now for those of you that don't share my faith, this next part may sound crazy.  Even if you do share my faith you may still think I'm crazy.  That's fine.  You can call me crazy and I don't take any offense.

I closed my eyes and saw a picture of my car and I saw angels.  Well, if I'm honest I saw lots of wings that were kind of see-through and iridescent and gold all at the same time.  They were covering my children.  They were all around my car.  I saw Jesus standing right behind me...really big...much bigger than me and the car.

It was this moment in the shower that I knew I had something to be glad about.  I went through the rest of the day trying really hard to focus on the miracle that took place rather than the horrendous experience...No one was harmed, my kids were okay and all he took were my rings. 

As if this wasn't enough for one week, the next day was the day that The Fly had his last procedure to determine if there was any cancer in his bladder.  A while ago some test results came back that led us through a slew of tests and procedures to rule out cancer.  The poor guy had to go through the worst one this last Thursday.  That morning when I got out of bed I knew I had two choices.  Wallow or be glad.  I decided to choose glad.  I began to focus again on the miracles every time an image of the day before would enter my head...which let me tell you was often.  And again, I prayed.  I prayed for peace for my husband and I prayed that no matter the outcome we would be able to find something to be glad about.

He called me around lunch time and gave me the great news.  No cancer!  The procedure was torture but he was glad...no cancer.  


Later that day I spoke to dear friend who prayed for me and also helped me see the miracles in the circumstances that surrounded me. I realized that I had so much to be glad about after I got off the phone with her...from the test results to God's protection over my babies and me. 

With all this said, I'm not naive.  I know that Pollyanna gets a bad wrap sometimes.  I know the reality of what happened to me more than anyone.  I see the gun in fleeting thoughts all day long.  I see this young man's face and hear his voice constantly through my stream of consciousness.  I don't like it.  When I go outside I am leery of men.  I don't like that.  I keep saying I want to be normal again.  (Not that I was very normal before...but you know what I mean.)

I know that getting past this ordeal will take time but in that time I am choosing glad. 

We took the kids to Disneyland last night to celebrate the miracles of our week.  We chose glad.  And every time The Fly put his hand on the small of my back I knew he was choosing glad too.  He was glad we were safe.  He was glad there was no cancer.  We were glad that we got to ride the Ariel ride we our Bug and Little Man.  We were glad we got to share corn dogs.  We were glad as we held hands on the ride home and the Little Man slept as the Bug serenaded us with the ABC song.

Bad  things happen.  There are lots of people out there that are hurting enough to do desperate and mean things.  Like I told my mom, don't feel sorry for us.  We are the blessed ones.  We were protected by the creator of the universe.  Instead, pray for the guy if you are the praying type.  I'm praying.  Who knows what will happen?  What was meant to harm can always be used for good because my God is greater.

Genesis 50:20
"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."

 

 

Like a Good Neighbor

Cul-de-sacs are awesome.  My cul-de-sac is full of awesome.  This summer has shown me, even more, just how blessed I am to live where I live. 

First, let's just focus on the parabola of fun.  That's what I like to call our u-shaped street.  We have the privilege of living on a street, and in a neighborhood, as a matter of fact, with a zillion kiddos.   They are everywhere.  If you don't watch where you are walking you are likely to trip over one.  The Bug likes to refer to every kid in the neighborhood as "her friends."  When we hear kids playing outside she looks up at me with shining, smiling eyes and says, "Mommy!!! My friends!" even if she has never met them.  I have a feeling as she gets older they will all be "her friends."  She seems to be little bit of social butterfly.

The Bug and "HER FRIENDS" jumping off walls...don't judge, you jumped off walls as a kid too.

The best thing about our neighborhood though is not just the kiddos but the kiddos that live on our street have awesome parents that have become "my friends!"  It's true.  If I need to borrow an egg, or even drop my children off somewhere, I have at least four options right out my front door. 

This last weekend sealed the deal for me. 

We and two other families that live on our "Parabola of Fun"  decided to take a trip to Laughlin, NV.  Two of us have boats so we set out for a wet, and fun-filled adventure.

The Fly and The Little Man at Breakfast.  Holding the baby keeps you skinny...it's harder to eat.

This is how a two year old stays entertained in a restaurant.  Towers.

The whole lot of us.  Adults totally outnumbered.

The Fly and one of our neighbors also one of my great friends!  That's the Little Man and his buddy in their arms.

Zoie's best buddy and her daddy.

Where Little Man napped.  He was continuously misted and put to sleep by the lapping water...until the lapping water woke him up.

The Bug on vacation.  She said, "I relaxin'"

Fly and Little Man going for a swim.  Don't you love his hat?  The ring isn't too bad either.

 This weekend was full of water, boats, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, happy kids, crying kids and load of memories.  This weekend I remembered to stop and look at my kids and take in the moments. 

I will never forget the Little Man smiling as I held him sitting in the beach chair under the easy-up as he splashed his little feet in the baby size waves.

I will never forget The Bug having a few  "accidents" and when The Fly asked her why she was not using the potty she simply replied, "Because I'm on vacation."  (As aggravating as this was I still couldn't help but laugh at that!)

I will never forget stopping at in 'n out in Barstow on the way to Laughlin and taking over the back corner with our excited and loud children.

I will never forget The Fly and the look on his face as he was wake boarding on seriously smooth water...he could see his reflection and he was so happy:).

I especially won't forget the conversations and good company of wonderful people I get to call my neighbors.

As I was rocking my Little Man tonight, waiting to get him to calm down so I could finish typing, I realized that this weekend marked the 4 year anniversary of us moving into our home.  I smiled.  What a great way to celebrate.  I didn't know what blessings awaited me in this neighborhood, in this cul-de-sac. 

If you are my neighbor and by some chance you read this please know that I am thankful for you.  I am thankful that I can come and borrow an egg.  I am thankful that you care about my kids.  I am thankful that in this season of life we can all grow together and learn from each other. 

I look forward to many more trick-or-treat nights, many more Christmas lights, many more birthday parties, many more haphazard play dates, and many more summer nights in our front yards. 

A huge lesson I've learned in my almost 30 years is that community is important.  Life is far better when you do life WITH people...I'm so happy to do life with the people who live on my street.

Tonight I want to thank God for my home, but more importantly, for the people who live next door, across the street, across the other street, and a few doors down.  The things of this world will fade someday.  My house may not always be standing or we may find ourselves in another place in another season but I will always be thankful for those people I get to call my neighbors.

Good friends jump off walls together.

She's Laughing Again

Laughter is said to be the best medicine.  This was definitely true for a good friend of mine.  Lynne had a laugh that was incredibly contagious.  There were multiple pitches and versions of this laugh and if I close my eyes and picture her giant grin I can still hear those laughs...each one...different for each different kind of funny she was experiencing.

This last Saturday I had the privilege of celebrating that laugh with hundreds of others at a celebration service of Lynne's life.  6 days prior Lynne had slipped from this world to meet her Creator after a courageous battle with cancer.  It was last year around labor day that Lynne and her family received the news that Lynne had Stage 4 breast cancer.  At that time no one would have guessed that she would be given almost an entire year to be loved on by friends and family as she fought.

These days it is not uncommon for cancer to touch all of our lives in some way, whether it be through a loved one fighting the battle or even ourselves.  It can be scary, ugly, unrelenting, and utterly debilitating as it ravages through a person's body.  However, I have seen this disease which is meant to harm be used by God for good many times before and on Saturday I was reminded once again how great our God is to do this through Lynne and her own fight.

As people poured into the church, we were greeted by multiple posters of Lynne's grinning face.  There were pictures from childhood through the awkward junior high years and through high school, college and adult life.  As I looked at the progression I could see the smile that God gave her as a sweet baby grow with her as the years passed through the pictures.  I was reminded of the laugh that gave volume to that grin, the laugh that I believe gave her the strength to get by everyday.

The service began with worship through music.  It was led by the same team that came to Marcia and Jim's house, (where Lynne and her daughter Perrin lived), every Sunday at 3pm.  They came rain or shine to bring church to Lynne since she couldn't make it to church in her condition.  It was through there introduction to the service that I began to feel my heart smile as I thought about how when the Body of Christ, the people of the Church...when they get it right, there is nothing like it...it's the most powerful example of love in this world.

From the moment the music began I knew that this funeral would not be like some other funerals I've attended, in fact, I can't even use the word funeral because of the Spirit of Joy that filled the building. Through the words of an uncle and then of Jim, Lynne's father, and through a video message from one of Lynne's best friends, it was clear to me that God had plans to bless all of us there in the midst of celebrating the life of Lynne. 

As we sat there soaking in the loving words and being reminded of Lynne's laughter I felt my heart fill up.  I realized that I was witnessing the Church, the whole community of believers, do death well.  Last, Frank Pastore, came up and gave some closing words...words that were simple, humble, loving and thought-provoking.  He told us that had he come to a funeral like this during his first 27 years of life he would leave thinking, "Oh those poor people, they created all these beliefs just to help themselves deal with the situation and cope..."  But, after thinking that thought, that so many of us have thought before...even if we grew up in a church-going or religious family...he said that thought would always be followed by a question, a question that would haunt him..."But what if it's true?"

What if it's true?  What if there really is a God who created this world and created you and created me with a plan and a purpose?  What if this God sent His son Jesus to earth to live, and teach and love, and then to die and take our place...to die for us so that we could spend eternity in Heaven with Him?  What if it is true when Jesus said, I am going to prepare a place for you?  What if it is true when He says I am The Way, The Truth, and The Life, no one comes to the Father except through me?

I would be lying if I said that I never asked these questions myself.  Growing up in the Catholic Church I learned many things about my Creator.  However, it wasn't until my adult years that I understood what it was really like to have a living relationship with Him...one where I could cry out to Him and know that He heard me...one where I could sing my praises to Him and know he was smiling.  Don't get me wrong, I am SO thankful for my Catholic upbringing...God has used it in so many ways to grow and mature my faith.  I am no longer a practicing Catholic, I attend a Protestant church these days, but I will forever be grateful for the foundation my parents laid for me by making church a priority as a young child.  But, back to the questions...like I said, it wasn't until my adult years that I really began to believe that those things really could be true.

Sitting in that service on Saturday reminded me not only of the beauty of Lynne's life but also of my own journey and how God uses pain and suffering and the things we don't understand, like death, to draw His people near to Him.  As Pastore finished he left everyone with that question...sure, this all could be a great, big coping mechanism, but what if it's not...what if it's true?

I don't know where you find yourself today in the whole God-believing, Jesus-loving picture.  Unfortunately, there are many people who call themselves Christians who have made choices that hurt people. Those hurts have turned people away from anything that remotely resembles Christianity.  For that, I am so sorry...so sorry, that my heart aches in this very moment as I type.  It also angers me...it angers me in the way you get angry when you see a child or small animal neglected...the anger that stems from injustice...because that's really what has happened.  Unfortunately, Christianity has been branded as religion that is exclusive and only accepts certain kinds of people.

This could not be further from the truth.  If I were brave enough to write a list of the junk in my life and the bad choices I have made since the moment I could make bad choices you would see that I am not be fit for any group of people.  You may not believe it, but it's true.  I was a big ol' mess...trust me.  But then something happened in my life.  I was at rock bottom.  The place where you don't even know where up is because the darkness has closed in on every side.  Then through a good friend, my best friend, I was shown the love of Jesus and slowly, the darkness began to dissipate.  I began to heal by leaning on the love and the promises I found in the Bible and through prayer.  My life changed.  I became a new person in many ways...so many ways that some people were shocked and even genuinely weirded out by my new lifestyle.

The truth was that once I learned that there was a God that loved me no matter what I did, and that nothing could change the love he had for me, even my very worst, deepest, darkest, really ugly secrets, I finally felt like I could live.  It was through this process that I was able to feel conviction for my wrong doings and ask for forgiveness or extend forgiveness as the circumstances of my past and present came to mind.  This process led me to experience a freedom I had never felt before.  It was a freedom that ushered in a new joy and love for life.

On Saturday, celebrating Lynne, I was reminded of all of this.  I was reminded that one day, I asked myself, "What if it is true?"  and then started to truly live for the very first time.  That question was the beginning of the last 12 years of my life.  Things would be so different and so unsettled had I not truly dug down deep into what that question really implied.  I am better for it.  I live for it everyday...unashamedly.

I was also reminded that it was her belief, her faith, that gave Lynne the courage to fight and the courage to face death.  It was this belief and hope that gave Marcia, Lynne's mother, the supernatural ability to care for Lynne.  It was this belief and this hope that gave all the people attending the service that day a deep joy that replaced any despair, knowing Lynne was alive...more alive than she had ever been before...completely restored, completely healed, completely whole in the company of Jesus.

I  do miss Lynne's laugh.  We didn't get to hear it very much in the last year but if what I believe to be true, really is true, then I know she is laughing now.  I also know that one day I will get to hear it again.  That thought gives me hope.  This hope is what gets me through my worst days on this earth.  It's the hope that reminds me this earth is not my home.  It's the hope that reminds me I am not forgotten.  It's the hope that fills me when there is nothing I can do to control the circumstances around me.  Without this hope I would not be living life with joy and that would be awful.

If you read this blog today and you are toying with the question, "What if it's true?"  I challenge you to let it sit.  Let it permeate your thoughts.  Give God the chance to show you.  He showed me and my life will never be same...and I couldn't be more grateful.



However, as it is written: “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived” — the things God has prepared for those who love him—
1Corinthians 2:9

Thank you Lynne for loving Jesus with your whole heart.  You touched people through your life and even through your death.  I'm so glad you are laughing again. 

6 years and Counting

August 21, 2005...best day ever.

6 years ago we were wrapping up tiny details, welcoming family and friends from out of town, and eating A LOT of good food. I found myself looking for any opportunity to wear white. I was slightly obsessed with feeling bridal as any bride has the right to be. Looking back at that season of life makes me feel all warm inside...the same way I feel when I first smell Christmas coming...yes, for those of you that didn't know, you CAN smell Christmas coming.  (I will post about that later!)

Here's a little picture walk down memory lane.

The Engagement...March 11, 2005 It was our 4 year dating anniversary. Earlier that week I was really mad because I didn't think Fly was ever going to pop the question.  I remember complaining to my friends and sister that entire week, saying things like, if he doesn't want to marry me, then FINE! I'm DONE waiting!!  It's a good thing I have good friends and it is just like Fly to push to the last second:)...but looking back, the timing was perfect.  I wouldn't want it any different.

Surprise! He invited 150 of our closest friends and family to a surprise Engagement Party. He is up on a balcony serenading me.

Seriously could not stop crying...I was so surprised.

Just wanted to reiterate the fact that I was a blubbering mess. Here we were watching a slideshow of pics of us together. (That's my mama holding my hand...She is a lovely lady!)

Me and my daddy...He's the best daddy in the whole world.

Tim with the band. He sang our Jams to me.

On our first "date" we had cup o' noodles and green tea. He saved the green tea box...for four years.

The ring!

I said yes...Well, I actually said "Heck ya!" (Some of our students were there so I had to say 'heck')

Me and my sister...she cried almost as much as I did...Us Dugan's can be slightly emotional.

The Schrader's and the Dugans (this was before in-laws were in the picture...literally:))

My bridesmaids gave me this the night before our wedding. If you look close you can see that the D is backwards. That is why it is my favorite.

This is the "I'm getting married tomorrow!" face

Love this pic in the elevator...especially my sis Lyndsey's face...pretty much captured the day.

Boys doing what boys like to do.

We got married at the Hyatt in Huntington Beach.  I came across the bridge and around and up the aisle.  I wanted to get as much mileage out of my dress as possible.

You may kiss the bride!

The wedding party...they were quite the party.

Some reception shots...

All the single ladies

Our very own choreographed surprise number...It was like NSYNC was actually there.

He was nice...He knew what was good for him.

His tux was rented so I didn't have to be as nice.

Daddy/Daughter Dance...Lyndsey sang "Come to Me" by Celine Dion...sweet moment...

Watching the sun dip into the waves...it was breathtaking...I love this man.

Over the last 6 years we have done different things to celebrate on our anniversary.  This year may not have been as "romantic" as some of our past celebrations but it was perfect in a "I love doing real life with you" sort of way.  We did go to a yummy dinner on Friday night and I got an AWESOME present that I was not expecting but my favorite part of our weekend was on Sunday.  The Bug was with her Grandparents and The Fly and I (and the Little Man...since he would starve without me), sat together by the pool.  We talked.  We talked about things that were going on in our lives.  We talked about things that we were excited about.  We talked about things that frustrate us.  We talked about our beautiful children.  We talked about us.  

I went to bed that night thanking God for the man laying next to me.   I am so thankful for my "Fly"  and for how he shows his love for me by his actions daily.  He is a wonderful father and a husband who truly loves me more than he loves himself.  

When I reflect on what I have learned most about during these 6 years of marriage this is what comes to mind:

Marriage is hard.   It's not just hard for the obvious reasons, but it is hard because we are called to love the other person the way Christ loves His Church...in a way that is completely selfless.  Us completely imperfect humans struggle with this daily.  However, there are those moments, those moments when heaven meets earth. For me this happens when he stays up with the baby so I can go to sleep even when he has to leave the house at 5am and work all day, or, when he washes my car every Saturday without complaint.  It happens when he always lets me pick the place to eat out and eats there even if it's Mexican food...AGAIN.  It happens when he comes home from work and sees how ragged I am and takes the next round of diaper changes, potty trips, bath times and sink full of dishes.  When I was crazy busy working at the church it happened all the time in filling every need that I could not get others to do...like clean up...the poor guy...always on clean up duty:).

I love my man.  I hope that I too show him love in selfless ways.  We are both not even close to perfect but I have learned when I spend my time remembering his rights instead of his wrongs...I am a better person...it's easier for me to find the beauty in our big beautiful mess.

I love you Fly.  You are my lobster.  (Don't worry...it's one of those inside jokes...)

Lessons from a Singing 2 Year Old

As a former church employee weekends have never been that exciting for me in regards to "time off."  Don't get me wrong, weekends were fun and exciting in a different way.  Being with my junior high students or having the privilege of being part of weekend services was great.  But I find myself in a different season of life right now...a season where weekends are simple and scrumptious.

On the weekends there is at least one extra pair of hands to play with the kiddos, usually The Fly's, but we also get to see friends and family, and I often find my arms a little lighter as other people love on our little ones.

On the weekends I eat.  I eat whatever I want...well, now due to Little Man's gas issues I eat anything I want that does not contain dairy...which unfortunately narrows my choices drastically.  Nevertheless, I give myself the green light to indulge.  (The dairy issue may end up being a blessing for both of us...the lack of dairy means I might lose the rest of the baby weight a little faster...because let me tell you, I love me some dairy!)

On the weekends we play.  We do things that we wouldn't normally do in the middle of the week.  This weekend we decided at the last minute to take the fam to the Quakes game on Friday night.   The Quakes are the minor league baseball team in our area.  Our great friend Justin happens to be the on field host, "Crazy J."  So when we go to a game we always get the royal treatment.

Quakes Stadium, Rancho Cucamonga

At this particular game The Bug was in performance mode.  Earlier that day I took her and Little Man to the day care center at the The Claremont Club so I could workout.  When I picked her up she was singing a mash-up of Twinkle, Twinkle and ABC's.  I am assuming she learned both songs and developed the mash-up on her own.   Anyhow, it happened to become the theme song of the day.  At the game that night Justin let her hold on to his microphone while he did some other things.  She stood in our section and serenaded the entire group of us for about 15 minutes.

The group that got the serenade (The mic was off...but she didn't care)

An action shot...too cute!

Can I say adorable?  I'm her mom, so yes, I will say it...I was beaming with pride and trying hard not to plan her performance future... (I deal with closet stage-mom syndrome *wink*) and let her just be a two year old who just wanted to sing in the moment...not caring what anyone thought.  She sang her little heart out and everyone was smiling.  How could you not?  No inhibitions.  She had a new song and she wanted to sing it so she did.

The day before this I had the opportunity to join some wonderful people for a time of prayer.  It was so refreshing.  As the evening ended the verse Psalm 96:1 popped into my head.  I didn't know what it said so I planned on looking it up when I got home.  However, when you have a 10 week old and a 2 year old plans get thwarted easily.  Finally a couple days later I remembered to take some time to look it up and this is what it said,


Sing to the LORD a new song;
   sing to the LORD, all the earth. 


How appropriate! Don't you think?  I did some deeper digging and found that the Hebrew word used for sing in this verse refers to the the kind of song that is sung with the human voice.  As I let that rest and sink down deep I couldn't help but picture The Bug and hear her enthusiastic chorus.

If you look at the entire Psalm you see that the Psalmist is telling the reader, or, the singer, if you will, to use their voice to proclaim the wonders of the Lord.  He says give glory to God because He deserves it.  He made the heavens and the earth.  He says the sea, the field, and even the trees will rejoice.

I don't know about you but I LOVE to sing.  But, so often I am caught up in the busyness of the day that I forget to or my anxiety is getting the better of me and I just don't want to sing.  Sometimes the pains of life are even so great that singing does not seem appealing...especially when people I love are hurting or sick or just plain crabby.

After doing a little research I found some info that I had a feeling was the case.  Did you know that singing releases endorphines?  There are multiple studies on how the act of singing can make you feel better or happier. 

This is what I love about God.  His commands are never just mindless instruction to follow.  Whatever he commands of us always makes us better.  When we read in His word to Sing...sing a New Song...Praise His Name with our voices...it's not just because He wants to hear it but also because He knows that Singing, singing about how good He is will encourage us. 

It will physically release endorphines and increase brain activity.  The breathing that goes along with singing will increase the oxygen flow to our brain and we will physically feel better.  Not only that, but depending on what you are singing you will also feel better mentally and spiritually.

I encourage you to take a lesson from The Bug this week.  Just sing.  Sing songs that make you happy.  Sing songs that express how you feel.  Sing really loud in the car.  Who cares if your voice causes glass to break or dogs to bark...just sing...no inhibitions.  I guarantee you that you will smile and just that can make any day better.

Some songs I love right now...click and have a listen...
Blessings by Laura Story

Our God by Chris Tomlin

Mean by Taylor Swift

Put Your Records On by Corrine Bailey Rae

Of course, Don't Stop Believin' by Journey even before Glee re-did it.  Thanks to my Uncle Doug I knew Journey as a young pup!

And, my all time favorite feel good song to sing at the top of my lungs...

Taylor the Latte Boy by Kristin Chenoweth
(Kristin, if by some miracle you ever read this...you are my favorite!)

What is your favorite feel good song?  Sing it today...better yet, sing it and do a little dance...that will definitely make you smile...or at least if someone else sees you they might smile:).

Leaving you with one last smile:)

Outfits worth a picture or two

I absolutely love baby clothes!  I love dressing my children, however, I get so sad when the pieces that I absolutely love become too small.

I always tell myself, "Self, you need to take more pictures of the kiddos in those clothes!"  So this time I listened to myself.  

My parents became world travelers and brought this home from France...I love it!  And, The Bug loves her "boomers" (bloomers!)

The Bug also has developed her own fashion sense.  She loves to wear two different shoes...I let her...I think it's funny.

You can't see the onesie very well but the smile melts me...so I thought I would share.

It was a little snug as I stuffed him into it but fitted t's are in right now.

If you ask people who know me well, they will tell you that I remember outfits.  Most of my memories are categorized in my brain by what I wore...seriously.  I can still see first day of school outfits.  I remember the first time The Fly and I went to Disneyland together, we were both wearing jeans and navy blue sweatshirts...and I had an awesome hair day!

Therefore, when I dress my kids it's more than wanting them to be so cute.  It helps me take a mental picture of the day, the moment.  Later, I find myself smiling as I fold their little clothes and thanking God, thanking God for this time that is flying by so fast.  This is the time when my kids are little enough to let me dress them and pick out their clothes without a fight:).  I thank God for little buttons on the bottom of onesies that mean my kids are still small enough to be in diapers.  I thank God for feetie pajamas and dresses that come with bloomers.  It all reminds me that even when I'm not sleeping and I haven't taken a shower in four days it's all worth it.  The baby cuddles and the toddler "I Luv Loo's"  are so worth it.

Being a mom of little ones has shown me the power in thanksgiving.  In the moments I want to pull my hair out I have been trying to remember to find something to be thankful for and my attitude changes.

Today, as it has taken me about 2 hours to write this short post.  I have had to be thankful for diaper changes, feedings that are out of routine, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and swaddling blankets...oh yeah, and my one cup of coffee that takes me so long to drink I have to reheat it 10 times...so, I guess I'm thankful for microwaves too!

I hope that you too can find things to be thankful for in the crazy-making times of life in whatever season you find yourself.  It really is powerful enough to change your day for the better.

I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.
Psalm 69:30

A lesson from Amy...

I am so tired!!!

I don't know the last time I have been this tired...I'm pretty sure that this tired beats out all other "tireds" I've experienced.

Little man is not, I repeat, "NOT,"sleeping!  He is waking up every hour with what I like to call "old man gas."  I hope to not offend any old men reading my blog, (by the way, I would find that interesting), however, it is the very best way to describe what is going on deep in the bowels of my 9 week old.

So, as I am standing in Little Man's room last night, rocking him in my arms, tears are falling down my face at a rapid rate.  I find myself pleading with God for sleep...pleading like it was a matter of life and death...really, in my mind, it is exactly that because after 5 days of this battle I do feel like "death."

As I am standing there these words flood my mind, "A mother's cry in the dead of night...better than a hallelujah sometimes..."  As a child born in the early 80's I grew up listening to Amy Grant.  In 5th grade I participated in the school talent show with some friends where we beautifully choreographed a phenomenal dance routine to "Every Heartbeat."  Since then Amy's music has been kind of like a beacon that brings back good memories of my childhood.  Recently, Amy released a new Christian Album.  One of the songs is called, "Better than a Hallelujah".  I love, love, love it.  Amy did it again in my humble and slightly biased opinion.  The song talks about how sometimes God likes to hear us in our most honest, most vulnerable places.

I don't know about you but this can be hard for me.  As a person who searches for the silver lining when the drive thru gets my order wrong it is hard for me to be honest in my moments of desperation or despair.  Sometimes, I believe that if I give into my desperate feelings I am lacking in faith.  You see, I am a "Hallelujah" kind of girl.  I will shout it for parking spots, (which believe it or not can be a controversial topic.)  The point is, I tend to operate in the optimist camp.  I like it there.  It's sunny and smiley.  The problem, though, is that if I let the desperate feelings have their way I feel uncomfortable, agitated, and unsettled...I feel vulnerable, like I don't have it all together and that is a hard thing for me to admit.

But last night, and the few nights before, lead me to a place of deep desperation.  It was a place where I felt like a 5 year old screaming for my mommy or daddy to help me because there is no humanly possible way I could handle the situation on my own.

 In the midst of this desperation that I am still feeling today since sleep did not happen again last night, I am relearning that sometimes a breaking down is exactly what we all need to draw nearer to God.  It's funny...I've been praying this for other people that I love, not for myself.  Yet, here I am...Tired, Broken and leaning solely on the Holy Spirit to get me through the rest of the day without someone having to call CPS on me.

I tell so many other people when they find themselves in these situations that God must be preparing them for the next season.  It's a little harder to to believe your own words.  But, this is where I find myself today.

In the silly matter of sleep I have been broken...desperately seeking my God to save me, to rescue me and give me relief and refuge.  And in the quiet hush of my house at 3am I hear God saying to me, it's time to cry out...tell me how you are feeling...tell me what you need...stop leaning on your own understanding...acknowledge my ways...I will make the paths straight...I am the strength in your weakness even right now...trust me...

Maybe you also find yourself in a desperate place today...for you it could be something far more serious than sleep deprivation and you are trying to manage your feelings, emotions, and needs but you too are on the brink of a breakdown that could win you the Academy Award...or at least a daytime Emmy.  If you find yourself in this place I encourage you to maybe listen to Amy's song or at least feel the freedom to cry out to God in the most honest and vulnerable way you can.  I believe you will be better for it afterward.



 Better Than A Hallelujah lyrics
Songwriters: Hart, Sarah; Hartford, Chapin;

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes


Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Click here to hear the song and see the video!

Liitle Man...sleeping!!! (during the day...but I will take what I can get!)