Sunday, October 19, 2014

Rocking the Hall of Fame {Day 19}

I've been a little frustrated the last few days. Okay, the last few months. Frustrated that I'm not living to my full potential. Frustrated that I'm missing out. It's been a common theme. In high school I was the girl that every one liked, and no one remembered to invite to the party. I had friends in all different circles, and on Monday morning it would be the same thing- "Why weren't you at...". It was frustrating. And I feel like I'm in the same place now, only in the writing world. I seem to always just miss things. Just miss a link up. Just miss a conference. Just miss a Twitter party or a lit review. Just miss the friendships-lagging out on the sidelines. Jumping in at the last minute.

And my writing? Well it's not where I want it either. Not where I thought it could be. I don't have a lot of followers. I don't have many likes or comments on my work. I wasn't picked for the blog jobs or the speaker spots. And the books? Not getting the notice I had hoped for. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I expected to be famous, but I look around at all the other writers I see and I feel like I did back in high school-on the outside looking in. This morning I was thinking about my post for today and the only title I could think of was "When all seems lost." But I had nothing beyond that. So in a sigh I set aside the computer and started another search for potential churches. If you've visited here before, you'll know that since the move we've been looking for a place to call our worship home. I hate it. Church shopping sucks.

But there's one we've looked at and mulled over and on a whim we decided to give it a shot. Boy am I glad we did. Holy Hannah, it was GOOD. I'm not talking just a sermon that gives you the warm fuzzies, I'm talking a pastor who is real and down to earth and asks for forgiveness for a misstep he took. No really, like he got in front of the congregation, said something he did that was wrong, and asked for forgiveness. Brave? Uh huh. Even more so-humble. When I took the kids to children's church, the girl showing me the ropes was seriously about the sweetest thing I've ever met. She had a light inside her that didn't dim. And as I rocked the babe in the cry room, listening to the sermon from this man who had repented and asked forgiveness of his people, I cried. Messy tears-kids. Because he reminded me that this whole thing-it's not about me.

He called us mammas who stand in the trenches of dirty diapers and climbing toddlers rock-stars in the Hall of Fame of Heaven. He called us who go to work each day and live our life in Jesus names, blessed. He reinforced that each one of us-no matter our job or title or the amount in our bank account-we're each just as worthy to Christ, because he calls us his own. At one point he pulled up this quote from A. W. Tozer:

"God does not think of you because you are worthy. He thinks of you because he is God and you are a fixture in his mind." 

Boom. 

Photo by Bob Hall
That, that right there? That's where it's at. Let me bring that on home for you. Those of you who are parents-what is constantly on your mind? Your kids, right? I tell my students all the time to be where their feet are, but no matter where I'm standing, my kids are always there, nestled in the back-a permanent fixture. Now, I've got four and that's a lot of space occupied. Can you imagine what that is to God? Me neither. But what a thought-of all the people in and of this world, you, yes YOU occupy a fixture in God's mind. He has a permanent place shaped like you right there in his mind for you. 

And by living in him, wrapped in his grace, you are called beloved. And you are worth it. Living as an example to your kids or coworkers or your neighbor across he street. You are worth it. 

Individually we all suck. We're humans wrapped up in this world of ours just begging to be noticed. But in Him, we're wrapped up tight in grace. Are we still going to screw up? Yep. Will we still feel like we're on the outskirts looking in, just waiting to be noticed? Some days we might. But when it all comes down to it-the invites don't matter. The conferences that I miss, yeah I wish I could have been there to build that community. But in the end, I've got my picture in the Hall of Fame, y'all. I'm livin' the dream, rockin' the job and the mom gig like nobody's business. Because I'm learning not to do it for me, but for Him. 

How about you? Are you sitting on the outside looking in? Or are you choosing to rock the Hall of Fame? 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Reminder {Day 18}

My reminder for today. Which was a good day. Even if my writing isn't what I want it to be. 







Linking up with my friend Lisha-looking for grace and getting grounded. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

When You Grieve for Lives Never Lived {Day 16}

Dear sister and friend,

You know who you are. The woman in the back of the grocery store who is afraid to go down the isle because there's a baby in the check-out line. You've walked that isle before. The one with the pregnancy tests and tampons, so simply side by side but so much a world apart. You've been invited to the baby showers the afternoon that test came back negative. You've taken your temperature and you've watched for a rise in degrees that didn't exist. You feel like you're on this winding staircase that just keeps going, but the lighthouse is far from reach.  You've peed on more sticks than you can count, but have never had one with those two little lines.

Marcy Nell Photography 
Never.

Not once.

You know what it's like to sit back as your friends and family announce pregnancy after pregnancy while you wait for your miracle to happen. And you grieve with them for any child lost. You cannot imagine their pain, just as you can only imagine the hope that they once felt at that positive pregnancy test. And there are days like yesterday, where there is grieving for the dream lost and you feel and recognize that pain, even though you're a tad jealous of it. You have no candle to light or no balloon
to release, because there's nothing to miss in nothingness.

Not because you wish that on anyone. No. Never. You would never hope for someone to miscarry or hold their precious child for too short a time. No. But your heart aches none the less for the mere reason that there is less. Because you know that even with the unfathomable pain they feel, you know that there was once joy there too. You know that they felt the thrill of telling some one they love about this new chapter. You know that they held this secret to themselves, the most primal and most sacred secret of life.

And you might feel a little guilty about it. Guilty that your upset for not losing something. For not going through that unimaginable heartache. And guilt in the reminder that your body has failed you in every possible way when it comes to motherhood.

But you have a heartache all your own. You wonder how you can feel like you've lost so much, when there is nothing tangible there to mark your loss. And maybe that's it-that the gaping hole is so big, but there's no evidence of it. There's not test to hold and say But once there was...There's no hope in knowing that though you never held that precious life in your arms, you will hold them in your heart until you meet them one day in heaven. Because there's no one to meet. No part of you waiting patiently for you to join them.

There is an emptiness.

They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And you know this to be true. Because you've lost so much, and never had that little one to love. Not even for a moment.

Sweet sister, I know your pain. And I want you to know you're not alone. That you are among friends here. That it's okay to feel the way you do. It's okay to grieve. Even though some may tell you that you have nothing to grieve for. You do.

I'm sending you hugs and love, my friend. And most of all, I'm sending you hope.
~M


Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Forever Home {Day 15}

Their sweet faces fill up the screen and their giggles filtered through the speakers of my small computer like music from above. There are five of them. Four boys and one girl. Each with their big brown eyes and a love for each other that stretches beyond the history they have together. And this history? Well it's not a pretty one. It's full of pain and heartache. Abandonment. Neglect. The five of them ripped apart and forced to other families where life never really feels like home because they're not together.

The laughter resounds as the video pans out and shows them playing games and riding on rides. They smile in unison at the questions asked until they get to one-the one. The question about living apart, and that's when the resolve crumbles. That's when the reality of the burdens these little shoulders carry sinks in. Tears stream from the nine year old that has the heavy heart of a much older man. I can only imagine the responsibility he has taken on. the charge of trying to keep his little family together. The nights spent awake, wondering where they are and if they are safe. These are worries to big to bear for a child-ye
t in his eyes it is apparent that this is exactly what he has done. All others have failed, so it must be up to him.

My heart broke as I watched this story. A story that brings back the memories of our earlier life as we fought to become parents. We chose to fill our home with kiddos who needed it most-those in foster care. It wasn't easy, and some days it still isn't. Our kiddos have been through things that no child should. They have lasting effects of the lives they lived in the 'before'. There are things we will never be able to fix, and as a parent that is the most frustrating thing of all. But there are things we can do.

PFLAG.org
We can provide a loving home. We can give warm food and full bellies. We can insure that they are clothed and have a home to live in. We can help them keep relationships that otherwise might not have been.

But there are so many more. So many little hearts and spirits that are waiting for their forever home. And my mamma's heart wants to take them all. To open up a big 'ole house out in the country where there is room to run and play and grow. Bedrooms with cozy beds and lots of blankets to help warm the memories of nights when their were none. Fields of grass to play outside on, with balls and bats and catching gloves. A kitchen full of food, to fill the bellies that were empty for so long. And the ability to take not just one, but siblings as well. Families were meant to stay together.

It makes me want to get re-licensed. But I know that right now I can't. Right now my responsibility is to the kiddos who fill the bedrooms in this house. But my hope is that some one who reads this may have an open door and an open heart. The ability to provide a home and a family for kiddos in need. Is that person you? Have you thought about opening your heart to children in care? If so, please take the step to get licensed as a foster or foster-adoptive parent. You might be the only person who can make a difference in a child's life. And just maybe, you can offer some one a forever home.

To watch the video I reference, click here.

Interested? Here are some links to kiddos so desperately waiting for a home:
North West Adoption Exchange
AdoptUsKids

About becoming a foster parent:
Dave Thomas Foundation

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Pie for Lunch! {Day 14}

Fall is here which means it's time for all things pumpkin. Pumpkin pancakes. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin crepes. Pumpkin lattes (oh how I miss Black Bird Cafe in Port Angeles! Starbucks has NOTHING on them!). Pretty much if I make it, I add pumpkin. We buy the puree by the Costco size. Which makes eating right a bit difficult. Pumpkin goes really well with cream cheese, after all.
It's a constant battle, this whole being healthy thing. Like, I know it's a lifestyle change, one I've done before and am working on again, but still-it's HARD. But things like painted on jeans (see yesterday's post) just hammer down more conviction to get a changing. (that and the chex mix I consumed last night)

Like I said, I'm taking this one day, one meal, one work out at a time. And today has been a good day.  The babe and I went for a run and I've fed my body well. I've kept my coffee black and had a smoothie for breakfast. Seriously yummy. Full of berries and goodness. And today I'm having pie for lunch. Well, sort of. I found a pumpkin smoothie that I thought I'd give a shot and it's not to shabby! I'll share the recipe with you as best as I can. For those that know me, this is a challenge. I don't really believe in measuring. At any rate, throw some stuff together and enjoy!

Pumpkin Smoothie

1/2 c pumpkin puree
1 Bannana
1/4 tsp pumpkin spice 
2-3TBS maple syrup
1 TBS vanilla
1 TBS ground flax
1 TBS chia seeds
1 cup milk
ice

Enjoy!
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Monday, October 13, 2014

Painted on Jeans

I took a little break from #Write31Days this weekend. I had students over at the state hospital Thursday-Saturday, and my parents came over and watched the beasties so that the hubbs could come join me Friday night. The amazing thing is, they had planned to come over and stay with the kids on Saturday night so that we could go to a concert. This means that we had two, that's right I said TWO dated nights!!!

I cannot tell you the last time we had a date night. No really. We were trying to remember the last movie we went to and came up blank. No idea. But this weekend, we had double! It was like finding an Oasis in the desert. I cannot express how important it is to have date nights, and this weekend was long over do. And we had a blast.

The first night we went to the most horrid Chinese food we'd ever eaten. For real. My cashew chicken tasted like chicken noodle soup that needed seasoning. But it didn't matter because for the first time in ages, no one was needing their food cut or cooled off. There was no constant chatter beside and between us. It was so quiet! Then we went and saw Dracula. Because nothing says romantic date movie like a blood sucking monster! It was actually pretty good. And the popcorn was stellar and isn't that really what matters when you go to the show?

Saturday night we went to the Dierks Bentley concert. Oh. My. Goodness. I had forgotten how fun concerts were!!! The opening band, Eric Paslay, was awesome and once Dierks got on stage the whole place came alive! There was only one problem-I was wearing jeans.

Why is this a problem, you ask? Well because I'm a little chubby right now, remember? I pulled on a pair of jeans I haven't worn in AGES. And by pulled on, I mean I did the bend-and-squat routine to stretch them out about a thousand times. To get them up my thighs. Then came the button and zipper. Sucking it in as much as I could, I stretched and pulled and thought about using a hanger to leverage the zipper and then my husband walked in and let me tell you there is nothing sexy about doing the dance to the denim gods when you can't get your jeans on. Fortunately all I got was a lifted brow and quizzical look before he left the room. Then it was back to the acrobatics. But success!! I got the stupid things on. Now my only worry was having to pee at some point during the evening. Thoughts of being in some random stall with my pants unbuttoned and no sign of closure became my new worst fear.

And I couldn't breath. Or feel my knees. I'm pretty sure the circulation was gone. I told my hubby, as I tried to catapult myself into the truck (there was no bending, and that thing is high!) that if at any time during the night I passed out, just to unbutton my jeans. It would allow for blood flow to resume it's normal course through my body. I made it through dinner, surprisingly unhungry-oh wait, no room for more-and then to the concert, where we sat in the most uncomfortable seats on earth. All I could think was please let the music start so I can stand up and not feel like I'm being sliced in two by the waistband of my pants. 

Finally the band picked up and we were on our feet and had a great time. By the time we made it home, I couldn't wait to put on my fat pants. Bot Bot met us at the door and looking me up and down asked "Are those new jeans?" Ha! Nope, you just don't recognize them this tight.

But you know what? It doesn't matter. my jeans were a little bit (or a lotta-bit) tight-but I had the best time with my man. And he doesn't care if my pants hug a little tight in all the wrong places, he still thinks I'm beautiful. And you know what, so do I.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Five Minute Friday: Care {Day 8}

It's Friday! Well, almost. :) Which means it's time to party it up over on Kate's page. You know the drill: One word. Five Minutes. No take-backs.

Prompt: Care

Go.


I saw this picture on Facebook today.
Photo: I watched this whole thing go down in an airport and felt like sharing it with you. 

This young military man, Michael (full name was on his backpack) was standing here about to board a plane and a random man walked up and said thank you for your service. Then asked if he could pray for his safety. I started crying of course just watching this nice end to a crappy day unfold on my 16 hour cross country flight,  but Americans never cease to amaze me. Beautiful.

I would love for this picture to find it's way to the man pictured here in uniform to show how many people are praying for you and wishing you good thoughts and safe travels.


Here is the description that went with it:

"I watched this whole thing go down in an airport and felt like sharing it with you. 

This young military man, Michael (full name was on his backpack) was standing here about to board a plane and a random man walked up and said thank you for your service. Then asked if he could pray for his safety. I started crying of course just watching this nice end to a crappy day unfold on my 16 hour cross country flight, but Americans never cease to amaze me. Beautiful.

I would love for this picture to find it's way to the man pictured here in uniform to show how many people are praying for you and wishing you good thoughts and safe travels." 

This was the post on musician named Sunny Sweeney's page. I saw it because it was shared by a friend of mine whose son is in the armed forces. The picture stuck with me all day. Through work and into this evening. It struck with me because my first thought was whether or not I could be that brave. 

I have no problem telling service men and women thank you for their service. I do it often because I am eternally grateful for all they have done. I have no problem praying for them or liking the Facebook posts and status updates. Its easy. It's committal in a non-committal way. Do I pray for them when I say I will? I do, yes. But this picture, this picture was different. And I started to wonder if I would be brave enough to do what this man did. To not only thank the soldier for his service, but to lay hands and pray for him. Would I care enough about putting aside my own insecurities and pulling on the confidence of a woman covered in Christ. 

I care so much in so many different ways. As a nurse I care for my patients. I care for their health and well-being. I care for their spirit and their body. I lay hands and I pray across tables. As  mom I care for my children and as a wife I care for my husband. I tend these relationships and try to nurture them to grow. But do I care enough to let go of my own insecurities, my own self-awareness to pray for a person like this? Out in the open, in front of everyone? Once upon a time, the answer would be no. But now, I'm hoping the answer will be yes. 

How about you? Would you be willing to set aside your fears and pray for a solider in public?