Wisdom Teeth

It has been over a week since my last blog. The reason? Wisdom tooth extraction. For those of you considering this rite of passage...I would recommend a detour. I have brought 2 children into this world via c-section surgery and that recovery seems to pale in comparison to the joy of tooth extraction recovery.

I was so nervous the day I went in. I just love that butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach. Who ever thought to term it "butterflies" because it really feels more like daggers shifting around in your belly. I had recruited a friend to drive me so that my husband could be with the kids. My children both cried when I told them what I was doing that day. There is nothing like reassuring your children that you will be fine when you don't really even know if that is true! So, my friend got me to the oral surgeon's office just in time. I had to view a webcast of what to expect during the surgery the day before. Now after watching this, I should have known what I was in for. I think I was fooled by the calm, serene nature of the narrator's voice. She went over what to do before, during and after surgery. I found it humorous that it was optional whether or not to hear about the possible side effects of the surgery. The narrator would nonchalantly say, "Would you like to hear more about this? If not, press continue." I took that as, "This side effect is highly unlikely. Don't be a hypochondriac, simply continue on." Anyway, after the webcast I had a false sense of security even though I had "butterflies."

After signing in and sitting down, my friend just stared at me. It was like she knew what was to come and yet she couldn't bring herself to tell me. "You'll be fine," she said. I picked up a magazine and tried to read. I read the same sentence about 12 times about some great fly fishing spot. Why is it that dentist and doctor's offices subscribe to the top 10 obscure magazines on the market. Fly fishing, Golf Digest(which really isn't that obscure, but what housewife of preschoolers wants to read about the guy who designed Augusta golf course??), Canine Monthly and The Collector's Companion. I am not sure about how magazines like that are suppose to be entertaining or even relaxing while you wait for Dr. so and so. After waiting for a few minutes I was called up to the reception desk. "We will need to collect your copay now." I often wonder why I can't wait until after the service rendered to decide if it was worth my copay or not. Wouldn't that be great if we could say, "Well, I really don't feel like I got my money's worth. Instead of paying you $1500 to take out 4 teeth, I think that I would like you to pay me for my time in your office." After all, if it wasn't for me, my dentist wouldn't have a job. I forked over the cash, yeah right. I mean, I handed over the Visa, signed and sat down again. No turning back now.

The nurse came out and gave my friend a pamphlet of "post-surgical care" and a little bag with gauze and a new toothbrush in it. She took me back into a room with 1 chair and a lot of diagnostic equipment. I think I even saw a defibrillator. Why in the world would they need that? I put my purse on the window sill and took off my glasses. I felt my way to the seat and was told to "make myself comfortable." Are you joking me? I had no sooner sat down when the nurse had an oxygen tube put under my nose. Wait a minute. I haven't even had a chance to make myself comfortable. Maybe the oxygen is part of that idea. After all, I was feeling short of breath. The nurse proceeded to put metal clips on my wrists. She claimed they were to monitor my heart but I really think she was strapping me to the chair so I wasn't tempted to give the surgeon a swift uppercut in the middle of surgery. The surgeon came in and asked, "How are you today?" How am I suppose to answer that? "I am fantastic, sir. I am so blessed to be tied in a chair with extra oxygen blowing up my nose." I simply mumbled a "fine" and tried to continue "making myself comfortable." Before I knew it, the surgeon said you'll feel a little pinch as he inserted a needle into my vein. No time to talk really. I tried to tell him that I was concerned about my post-operative ability to chew as my wisdom teeth were the only teeth in my mouth that met top and bottom. (Yes, my bite is quite obscure. I have baffled dentists in 4 different states and Canada). Anyway, he said "you'll be fine" as he continued administering an anti-inflammatory to prevent "chipmunk cheeks." He then said, "this next medicine will relax you. Just close your eyes. It will take about 4 or 5 minutes to work."

Guess what? After 4 to 5 minutes and 5 shots of novocaine later, I wasn't quite feeling that relaxed. I was expecting to be completely out for the surgery. The surgeon opened my mouth and I wondered if he knew that I was still awake. I tried to shift in my chair and move my feet so he knew that I didn't quite make it to la la land. Despite my efforts he said to me, "You're going to feel a little bit of pressure." Wait a minute. I paid for the "feel absolutely nothing" extraction. Why even give me a sedative if I am still going to feel "pressure" as he called it. The nurse then proceeded to put one hand on my forehead and one on my chin. I felt the surgeon move from one tooth to the next all while having my head contorted into positions I thought only chiropractors knew.

Before I knew it the surgeon stood up and said, "okay, that's it." He left and the nurse told me to follow her. Now, I wasn't sure if they remembered that not only did I just receive sedatives and extra oxygen, but I wear glasses! I couldn't see anything. I politely asked the nurse for my glasses and she gave them to me and then said, "Don't forget your purse." Oh, of course. I was thinking about my personal belonging right now. Good grief. I made it to the recovery couch. The nurse got my friend who came in and sat next to me. She didn't say anything she just patted my leg. I told the nurse that I felt like I was going to vomit. She told me to lay down and then gave me some puffs of oxygen. Okay, that felt better. I tried to sit up. The nurse gave me some grape juice. I had to remove the pack of gauze and try to focus on the taste of the juice and less on the taste of blood. She asked me how I was feeling. I told her, "better." She responded, "well, you look really pale. You better lay down again." The surgeon reappeared and asked me how I was feeling. As he did he put the oxygen mask over my face and gave me some squirts. Obviously he knew I wasn't feeling fantastic.

After about 10 minutes on the recovery couch I decided to try to get home. Half way down the stairs I had to sit because I was going to vomit. I was given a barf bag "just in case" before I left. My friend hurried to her car and reclined the seat. I made it in the car and closed my eyes. She got me home and my husband greeted me in the driveway. He helped me to bed and then went to pick up my prescriptions - pain killer and antibiotics. I was told to take the pain medicine before the numbness wore off. I was also told to eat something. My husband fed me some soup and I took some pain medicine. Guess how long that stayed down? The next 8 hours were filled with me literally crawling from my bed to the toilet. I don't remember this being mentioned in the webcast I viewed. "You must eat" I was told. Well, I would really like to, but nothing wants to stay down!!

Ugh. Needless to say, I was in bed all week. The vomiting subsided, the bleeding slowed down and pachyderm breath developed. I can't use mouthwash for a week and brushing my teeth with the delicate toothbrush is more like using my finger to spread toothpaste on my teeth. Now that food stays down, I have put my food processor to good use. I have 4 holes in my mouth that want to collect food. Gross. I have to rinse with salt water several times a day to clean out the pockets. Gross. The taste in my mouth is, well, gross. I can't chew solid food because my jaw is sore and my teeth don't meet. I have cried many tears and told my husband that I am going to die of starvation because I can't eat anything. I might be blending everything for the rest of my life.

But you know what? God has been speaking to my heart. It is easy to read through a scripture like Romans 5:3 and say no problem. Romans 5:3 in the Amplified Bible says, "Moreover[let us also be full of joy now!] Let us exult and triumph in our troubles and rejoice in our sufferings knowing that pressure and affliction and hardship produce patient and unswerving endurance." It goes on to say, " And endurance (fortitude) develops maturity of character (approved faith and tried integrity). And character [of this sort] produces [the habit of] joyful and confident hope of eternal salvation. Such hope never disappoints or deludes or shames us, for God's love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit Who has been given to us." Yes! I am in the middle of a big trial. I can rejoice because the God of hope is right by my side. Did this extraction catch Him off guard? Is He baffled by my teeth? No and NO! He is the very God who created me. He knit me together in my mother's womb and He is excited to reveal His glory THROUGH MY CIRCUMSTANCES. Bring it on! Of course, I want immediate results from my prayers. But I can't help but feel that God has me right where He wants me. He wants me to trust Him with the process. Will I continue to believe that He is able through all of the pain and picking food from my sockets?? My circumstances have drawn me to God. He alone can work in them. He is the answer. He is my help. Most importantly, He is my hope. He is the reason I get out of bed with with bad breath. He knows and He can do more than I can ask for, if I will trust Him. Sometimes it is easier than others to keep this perspective, but the dividends of faith in action are staggering. God loves to reveal His power through willing vessels. Show your power through me, Lord. Thank you that you are the God of hope. Oh, yeah. Bless that surgeon that put me in this place of having to depend on you too.

Monkey Boy

It has been a particularly challenging day. It is only noon and I think I need another triple shot latte. My kids run around like they have had a six pack of lattes and I can barely put one foot in front of the other.

I had a few extra dollars so I told the kids that I would take them to pick out a small toy they both wanted. My daughter asked me 18 times if it was time to go before I had even gotten in the shower. I asked my kids if they could keep it together while I was in the shower. Of course they answered, "yes mommy" so sweetly that I am duped every time. You would think that I would have learned after 5 years that sibling preschoolers can't be left for 5 minutes peacefully.

I always look forward to my morning shower. Correction. I always look forward to my shower that usually happens before 6 p.m. Okay, you got me. I always look forward to the days that I actually get to shower. I found some shave gel that doubles as aromatherapy. Of course I purchased the citrus energizing scent. Maybe it was just the bottle that I got, but I never feel energized after my shower and now that I think about it I don't really even recognize a citrus scent. My shower is usually interrupted by screaming or crying when my hair is full of shampoo. I rip back the curtain and yell, "What is going on?" The answer always comes as I have leaned back into the shower to rinse out the soap that is now stinging my eyes. One of my kids ends up coming into the bathroom to tattle on the other. The shower curtain gets held back while I am caught up on the goings on and then I end up trying to wash my face and shave my legs (with the serenity shave gel) at high speeds so I can solve the problem. My bedroom carpet is almost always wet because I have to walk right from the shower to the kid's room to bring peace. I often wonder if my kids really take me seriously with hair dripping, nicks on my legs bleeding and a towel on. Maybe my scary appearance is what convinces them to get along. Who knows.

After I have gotten ready, 3 rounds of argument intervention later, we get into the car. My son has stinky diapers and my daughter has helped him put his shoes on. This means they are on the wrong feet and I have to convince my son that I need to take his shoes off and put them on the right feet. It probably isn't worth the fight. After clean pants, hands washed and herding them into the garage we are ready to go.

Yeah. We made it into the car and to the store. We made our purchase without a hitch. I wouldn't let them open the toys in the car because that would ruin 30 minutes of uninterrupted time for me when we got home. I don't know if it was worth the headache of hearing, "Can we open them now" a hundred times on the way home. Nevertheless we made it there. My son again had stinky pants so I sent him and my daughter into the house while I grabbed some things from the car. By the time I made it in, my daughter was gagging on the stairs and my son was standing in the hallway with hands covered in...should I tell you?? I remember a scene from the movie Madagascar where one monkey said to the other, "If you have any poo, fling it now." So my son thought he was monkey. This is the most disgusting, shocking, appetite ruining thing that I have ever had to deal with as a mom. How do you go about cleaning that up??

Many sprays of lysol and a bottle of anti-bacterial soap later, we have become clean again. 2 Corinthians 7:1 in the NLT says, "Because we have these promises, dear friends, let us cleanse ourselves from everything that can defile our body or spirit. And let us work toward complete holiness because we fear God." I am so sure that I have appeared to God the way my son appeared to me. He was completely shocked with himself and frozen in time because he did not know what to do with the mess he had made. What my son did is definitely gross, but my sin has a similar stench. I long for complete holiness. My deepest desire is maturity in Christ. Seeing my son in his mess today reminded me of how much I want to avoid those things that have become habitual sins in my life. I don't want my heavenly daddy to see me like that. Help me Lord, to "work toward complete holiness." Sometimes I am paralyzed and don't know how to move forward, but you Oh God, can gently restore me and remind me of the yucky consequences of disobedience the next time I am tempted to dabble in the dirty.

Quiet Please

There have been several times in my life when I wish that I could turn back time to take something back that I said or did for that matter. It is obvious that we can't change the past, but we can definitely learn from it. We can't take back our words but we can learn to control our tongue and be quick to apologize.

I am so amazed at how much our kids truly learn from us. They are so perceptive even when we think that we can pull one over on them. I was reminiscing recently about things that my daughter has said. I can remember a time when we were peacefully driving down the road listening to worship songs when all of a sudden a car sped by. It shocked me and I said, "That car needs to slow down or they are going to end up causing an accident." My daughter immediately said, "Maybe they are late for church too mom." How does my 5 year old know that I speed on Sundays?

My kids learn not only from me, but from everything around them. I overheard my daughter playing with her dinosaurs and one was saying to the other, "Don't I look great! I have lost 53 pounds and it was so simple." Where did she hear that?! My daughter is not only extremely perceptive but she has an impeccable memory! It is difficult enough with a daughter that is too smart for my own good but one that can remember details? Lord help me. She was just telling me about how she remembers spending the night at a friend's house a year ago and how her friend's mom "picked out all the little seeds from her bread." That is another funny thing in our house. Why is it that kids won't eat a piece of hot dog if it has a little green speck on it. Or what about chips that have little colored spices on them.?My daughter has microscopic eyesight that can detect the littlest discoloration or change in texture on any piece of food! Sorry, I digress. Anyway, because of my daughter's perception and memory she has challenged me on more than one occasion.

Our weather here in Chicagoland is, well, less than desirable at least to me. The winters are long and extremely cold. We are not talking put on a coat and head outside, it is more like plan on leaving 20 minutes earlier than normal because you have to plan on putting more fabric on every square inch of exposed skin. Then when you arrive at your destination you have to take all of it off and refix the hair and make-up. I can't tell you how many times I bundled my kids up and then began to bundle myself when my daughter would say, I'm sure you can guess, "Mom, I have to go tinkle winkle!" At least she was cute when she said it. I usually close my eyes in disbelief and begin taking off my gloves, scarf, boots and then her gloves, hat and you can forget the idea of leaving her coat on. It is always "too puffy" or in the way. I am not sure how coats can affect our ability to tinkle, but my 5 year old is convinced that they do.

One of the classic episodes of this routine was a while back on what other day?? Sunday of course. The holy day. The Sabbath Day. The day when all hell breaks loose in every household with preschoolers. After church one day, I had picked up my kids from their classes and rebundled them. This is much more difficult than before church because now the kids are tired and hungry. I got my son and husband headed towards the car and then headed out the door with my daughter. We got to the car and I strapped her in while the wind was beating on my face and my daughter looked at me with her angelic face and said, "mommy, I have to go pee pee." Yep. One thing that I resist telling my 5 year old is, "Can you hold it for a bit?" After all, we spend so much time convincing them that they need to pee in the potty and they need to go now, only to come back a few years later to tell them, "You're going to have to wait." I don't normally carry around changes of clothes for my kids so I decided we had better go back into the church to avoid having a potty accident. I pulled my daughter out of her carseat and held her hand while we rushed to the door. We got into the bathroom and I took off my gloves, her gloves, her hat because it was too itchy and then her coat of course. We got in the only available stall and you know the drill with the toiletpaper. My daughter then proceeded to tell me that she didn't feel like she had to go anymore. "Ugh!" I pulled her off the toilet in a quick manner and pulled up her tights. We washed hands. We both got our coats, hats and gloves on and then started to walk back through the hall to the door. I grumbled something to my daughter about not lying to me about having to go potty. I then began to lecture her about going potty and how it is important to go when we feel like we have to go. Why did I decide to give that lecture? I am not really sure. Because you know what happened? As we got out the first set of doors my daughter says, "Mommy, I really do have to go potty." I would like to tell you that I responded in a sweet and gentle way, "No problem honey. We will just go back into the bathroom and carefully take off our coats, hats, scarves and whatever else makes you uncomfortable and we will try again. I am glad you decided you needed to go sweetheart." I think the scenario was more of a brisk scooping up of my daughter while I firmly spoke to her face, "Why do you do this? We have gone in and out of this building about 5 times already. You make me so frustrated." The removing of clothes was more of a ripping of sorts. The ginger placement of my daughter on the toilet had turned into a quick plop down without taking time to line the seat with toilet paper. I crossed my arms and stared at her in disbelief. She looked me square in the eyes and said, "I am not going to do anything, mom, until you learn to let go of your anger." At that moment I wanted to give myself a swirley in the toilet bowl. Here I am in a 2 by 2 stall with my 5 year old preaching a powerful sermon to her 'pastor's wife' mother.

God will speak to us anyway he needs to. He has used donkey's, bushes and in my case daughters. After I got over the initial shock of my daughter's words I was able to apologize and even laugh with her. Thank you Lord that you know just what we need and when we need it. In the book of James chapter 1 verse 19 in the NLT it says, "Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters [and wives and mothers]: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry." I am not sure that this scripture needs much interpreting. The "you must" part gets me every time. I have struggled with applying this scripture almost on a daily basis. My life is more of a "slow to listen, quick to speak and fuming before long" kind of scenario. I am so thankful that God doesn't leave us the way we are. He wants us to grow. He longs for me to rely on His strength to live out James 1:19. I know that I need more help than most, but God is faithful and His help is always available if I can unfurrow my brow and shut my mouth long enough to hear His voice. And if I don't hear Him the first time, there is always my daughter who is an extremely willing vessel.

The Public Restroom

Just typing that title made me cringe. I try to make my older daughter go to the bathroom before we leave the house. Sometimes I forget or sometimes my daughter says, "My pee pees are not ready to come out." Well what can you say to that?! Sometimes after I have made sure to take her to the bathroom before we go, she will decide that she has to go "really, really bad" when I have a cart full of groceries. Ugh.

My experience yesterday was pretty typical. My husband was out of town and I had taken my kids to the DMV to get my Illinois driver's license. There is another topic of interest to me...the DMV! Anyway, my kids were so well behaved for over an hour while we were in the jam packed place that I told them I would take them to a pizza place.

The pizza place is one where you pay on your way in. After trying to pay while my son was half way across the restaurant and my daughter was opening and closing the soda cooler, I got them in line for the buffet. If I really stop and think about the buffet it grosses me out so let's not go there. I grabbed one tray while my son tried to grab twelve others. I managed to pick him up and balance him on my hip while I scooted the tray along the line. My daughter started conversation with the people in front of us as she often does. She was going on and on about our "dogs" which we don't have but she seems to think otherwise. I had to get her to stop talking long enough to pay attention to what sort of pizza she wanted. By this time, my son was kicking his feet into my hip and wriggling in a way that demanded I let go of him. How do they learn to do that stuff?! I put him down, grabbed a few slices of macaroni and cheese pizza (disgusting) and found a table. I got the kids situated and told them to stay seated on their bottoms. That lasted for about 30 seconds while I tried to get drinks. Of course, the whole time I was away from the table I tried to discipline them silently with facial expressions from across the restaurant. I made it back to the table to sit down and enjoy my salad only to find that both of my kids had dug the croutons out of it while I was getting the drinks. Most of the lettuce was strewn on the table.

We said grace and began to eat. I smiled as it was such great family fun...for about 20 seconds until my son's pizza got ranch dressing on it and he had to cry. I headed back to get him a new piece and of course they were out of the macaroni and cheese kind. I went back to the table with a slice of plain cheese and convinced my son it was just as good. He then whined about wanting it in pieces so I tore it apart. I took a few more bites of my salad and went to take a bite of my cheesy bread when my daughter said, "Hey, I want some of that. Can we split it?" "You can have it," I told her. I had already been back and forth from the buffet about 8 times. I was starting to get some smirks from people seated nearby. My son began to nibble on his pizza when my daughter proclaimed, "I have to go to the bathroom really bad!"

Now, this pizza place is on top of it when it comes to clearing tables. They don't have those signs that you can display saying, "be right back." So, we had to take a chance that our table would be cleared by the time we made it back from the restroom. That would mean we would have to start all over again, at which point I would opt for pizza at home. Anyway, we rushed to the bathroom as I lectured my kids about germs in public bathrooms on the way. I told my 3 year old son not to touch anything. We went in the largest stall, where I could at least move around and give my daughter the privacy she demands while going potty. I kept the kids aside while I laid out toilet paper on the toilet seat. (It never fails that as I set my daughter on the seat all of the toilet paper falls into the toilet or on the floor). While I am setting my daughter on the toilet my son decided to open and close and look in the sanitary napkin disposal box on the wall. Gross. I scooped him up and then got my daughter down from the toilet. She decided that she wanted to flush the toilet with her hands. Gross. My son had done that wriggling maneuver again so I set him down. He proceeded to the door of the stall and rubbed his face along the side to see if he could find a peep hole. I grabbed both their hands and went to the sink. I realized that if I didn't hold my son then he would touch every square inch of the restroom from ceiling to floor in about 2 minutes flat. So, I washed my daughter's hands holding my son on my hip and then gave my daughter paper towel and told her not to touch anything. I washed my hands and my son's hands and dried them both. I used the papertowl to wipe my sweat and it was back to our table. Yipee. By the way, both kids touched the door handle and about 18 other dirty things on the way back to our table.

I had lost any appetite that I once had for lukewarm pizza. I coaxed my son into eating a few more bites and we were ready to go home or at least I was. The whole bathroom thing exhausted me so much that I was ready for bed! Of course, you know the drill, the kids are starving by the time we walk in the front door. Go figure. We burned so many calories in the restroom that it was like we had not eaten any dinner. We washed hands again when we got home and got ready for bed.

Having clean hands is a priority in our house. When we arrive home from being out the first order of business is washing hands. David talks about having clean hands in Psalm 24. In verses 3-4 from the NKJV it says, "Who may ascend into the hill of the LORD? Or who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, Who has not lifted up his soul to an idol, Nor sworn deceitfully." David was talking about the fact that only Jesus in His righteousness can stand blameless before God. Jesus alone can give us clean hands and pure hearts. He gives us the only goodness in us and helps us to remain in truth. My prayer today is that my hands AND my heart would be clean. I want to give God my undivided attention and offer to Him the sacrifice of praise that He deserves. Germs and dirt don't scare Him or even gross Him out because He has conquered every last germ on this earth. Praise God that this life is not the end! Clean me up God, not just my hands!

Now a word about "not lift[ing] our souls to an idol." So many things can become idols in our lives, not just other gods. If something controls your thinking or exhibits power over you, it has become a god. (Take it from me, worrying about germs can become a sort of god!!) We can even make ourselves idols. I have realized in conversations the last couple days that we as women put too much emphasis on how we look. Our bodies can become our gods. My prayer is that God would so purify my heart that I see myself as God sees me and I would put more stock in my eternal value and less in those things that will pass away. I want to be more concerned about how I am looking spiritually than physically. If we truly want clean hands and pure hearts as women and moms we need to make sure that we are getting into God's word daily and praying daily. Even if we only find 10 minutes to do it, we are not going to make it or impact our kids or our world for Christ if we don't. We can't live without our "daily bread." We need strength to effectively deal with restrooms and tantrums. I love what Psalm 24:5 says in the NLT about those who have clean hands and pure hearts, "They will receive the Lord's blessing and have a right relationship with God their savior." I want right relationship with God and I want His blessing on my life. That only comes from taking our eyes off of ourselves and our bodies and putting them on Christ and His sufficiency! I want to be a vessel that God can use to impact my family and my neighbors! Let it be so, God, let it be so! Offer your hands and your hearts to God today, allow Him to renew your mind and bless your life as you walk step by (in my case stumbling) step with Him!

Holding Hands

One of my favorite things to do with my kids is hold hands. Usually it is when we are crossing the parking lot. I give my kids the choice either to hold my hand and walk or I have to carry them. More often than not their choice is to hold my hand. Sometimes I even catch my son and daughter holding hands even when I have not asked them to, nothing warms my heart more. I always ask my daughter if I can hold her hand as I walk her into school in the morning. She willingly says yes and we take that time to pray together. I look forward to those moments every morning.

I not only enjoy holding my kids' hands but I enjoy watching them hold their little friends' hands. There is just something so sweet about it. Humor me for a moment...The other day my daughter had her first soccer game. It was not only her first game but her induction into the competitive sports world. She went out on the field to practice kicking her ball. I watched her for a few minutes and talked with some of the other parents. All of a sudden I could not find her on the field. I panicked a bit as I looked around. I turned behind me and my daughter was kicking her ball with another team at another field. I called to her to come back and explained where our field began and ended and told her to stay in that spot. She smiled and said "okay mom." She had not a clue what soccer was about but she loved every minute. The coach, who is the best soccer coach a child or parent could ask for, gathered all the kids (boys and girls) together in the center of the field to pray and to give them a pep talk. As I watched, my daughter grabbed the hand of the little boy next to her. Ryan is a sweet boy who is a year older than she is. When I told my daughter about her first soccer game and how much fun it would be she would respond over and over, "and Ryan is going to be there."

After the coach finished praying, my daughter and Ryan were still holding hands walking around. I called to my daughter that they needed to concentrate on the game. They both just laughed and smiled at me like I was speaking a foreign language. The coach caught on and put Ryan in the goal box. My daughter was going to go with him until I told her that there could only be one goalie. She was clearly disappointed. The whole reason she was excited to be on the field was Ryan. She ended up being fine. She even scored a goal in her first game! She cheered when she was on the sidelines, especially for Ryan!

Holding hands is truly one of the sweetest things in the world. I can hold my husband's hand, I can hold a friend's hand, I can hold my kids' hands. We hold hands to be close, we hold hands to lead, we hold hands as reassurance that we are close by. One of the most awesome things about our God is that he enjoys holding hands as well. Psalm 73:23-24 says, "Yet I still belong to you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny." Asaph, the writer, spoke about his foolish perspective as a preface to this verse. He proclaims that regardless of what is going on around us, regardless of who is seemingly prospering, "You hold MY right hand." God wants to hold our hands. He desires that intimacy. He wants to lead us willingly through the parking lots of our lives into wide open spaces (no boundary lines like soccer!) He wants us to enjoy friendship with him. Holding his hand is an act of surrender. He has the clearer perspective, He has a path through the wilderness and He has love that He longs to lavish onto us. Like my daughter looked forward to Ryan at the soccer game, I want that same anticipation for God in each moment of my daily walk, "God is going to be there!" Reach out today and grab His capable hand. The best part too is that we don't have to let go of His hand and no sweaty palms here!

Time to Go!!

Getting out the door is something that I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. In fact, I remember that my mom, my sister and I would still be primping in the mirror when my dad would be in the car with the engine running...never a good sign. My husband does the same thing, "We'll be in the car." Oh great, that just means I will have lots of room to run around like a chicken with my head cut off. Have you ever seen that happen? I never have had the pleasure of watching that actual event, but I am sure that my runnings around come very close to the real thing.

I don't know what it is, but it seems like no matter what time I get up I am always pressed for time. Where are the kids shoes? Anyone seen my keys? Have we brushed the kids teeth? Did you grab an extra diaper? Where are the kids? Did I put on deodorant? My neighbors probably get a kick out of watching me get in and out of the car about 7 times every time I go to leave. I heard at church yesterday about a mom who always prepared for the following day the night before. Now that is a great idea. Maybe it's just me, but I can barely find my way to bed after cleaning the kitchen for the 12th time. The number of brain cells that I have left at the end of the day is definitely in the single digits.

Sundays have to be the worst days for getting out of the house. Yesterday, I ironed my husband's shirt got him out the door, busyed my kids so that I could get in the shower and proceeded to ready myself for church. I have tried getting my kids dressed after my shower with wet hair and a robe on. I usually hear things like, "Eww, your hair is slimy mom." "Gross, your lotion is all over my face, wash it off, wash it off!!" I try to dress my kids before I get ready because that task usually ends up in me sweating. So, after I have dressed my kids and dealt with the complaints about uncomfortable shirts and shoes that are too small and even inhibit my daughter from walking normally, I continue with my wardrobe. I think yesterday I tried on several pairs of pants, emptied my sock drawer looking for a pair of decent pantyhose, (decent is a pair that only has a hole in the toe. How is that that hole grows into a run that goes from toe to waist by the time you arrive at church??) and ironed my own shirt only to find that the design from the metal in the ironing board was permanently impressed in the fabric. Ugh.

I had called my sister to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. When she returned my call my son was screaming and my daughter was wining. My son ended up crying so hard that he threw up on the bottom stair. My daughter asked me about 18 questions about why her brother was throwing up and I still couldn't find my shoes. I rushed to get the kids in the car only to find that the car seats were in the living room as the kids were playing movie theater the night before and had to have their car seats as "special theater seating." So, with my son still screaming and me still sweating I got the car seats and kids in the car. I ran in to get my phone and my purse and didn't have time to grab my bible. I started the car and realized that it was pouring down rain. I ran inside, again, and got the kids coats. No coat for me, of course because I couldn't find one to match my outfit.

We made it to church and my son decided that he didn't want to take off his coat. I had to hog tie him in line at the 3 year old classroom to get his coat off while all the rest of the parents watched. I had to peel him off of me and literally shove him into the arms of the worker all while sweating. Again my daughter wanted to know exactly why her brother wanted his coat on and why he didn't want to go into his class. I hurried her to her class across the hall while she proceeded to cry only because she saw her brother crying. I would push her into her class and she would come back out and cry. After this went on 3 or 4 times, all while I am sweating, I firmly told her to go into her class and play with her friends and then I turned around and walked out. Now it was my turn to cry.

I couldn't find a decent pair of nylons so I had to wear a pair of trouser socks under my boots with my skirt. Just the way the socks were feeling around my calves made me cry. My blazer was tight around my shoulders and when I raised my arms the sleeves were about 3 inches too short. My hair had not cooperated with me so it ended up in a pony tail that made me look like I was 15. Did I mention that I have naturally curly hair that goes haywire in the rain? I peeked into the mirror on my way down the hall only to notice that my cover up wasn't really covering up anything. It just sort of dried on my face while the redness of my blemishes shined right on through. Good grief. I made it into the service only to have a sweet pastor lean over to me a say, "Happy Mother's Day." That was a faucet for the tears for sure.

Ever have one of those days? A better question is have you ever not had one of those days? There are times when I look in the mirror and think, "What happened to me??" I can't remember the last time that I wasn't sweating through the halls at church or had a great hair day which didn't require the use of at least 2 hair bands. I read an encouraging word today in 1 Peter 3:4 (NLT), "You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God." The first part of that verse speaks of "fancy hairstyles and "expensive jewelry" (what's that??) and how we shouldn't be concerned with those things. How much time do I take getting ready each day? Am I spending quality time putting on that "gentle and quiet spirit?" We have to clothe ourselves with those things. They don't just jump onto us each morning. The scripture goes on to say that "this is how the holy women of old made themselves beautiful." Wow. There's a beauty secret that Victoria probably didn't know. It is not about our hairstyles or our perfectly pressed clothes. Our beauty comes from within and that internal beauty that God supplies is "unfading!" Hallelujah! Motherhood is challenging and it takes a toll on our outward appearances sometimes, but take heart, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit make us more attractive than 2 hours of uninterrupted time in front of our mirrors. By the way, Happy Mother's Day to you moms out there!

Don't Ask Me Again

When you have kids, it seems like they are born with questions. From "Can I please have another cookie?" to "Will you play with me?" Then there is the infamous "Why?" It always makes me laugh when my kids ask why. Because most of the time I have no clue. I end up coming up with some creative explanation which I usually hear my child repeating to someone else at a later time. I can remember a response that my sister gave to her daughter when she persisted in the "Why?" scenario. My sister gently responded, "Let's save some whys for tomorrow." Well said.

I have reiterated to my daughter that it is good to ask questions because that is how we learn. Sometimes I wish I hadn't told her that but nevertheless it is the truth. Let's just say that my daughter wants to learn about a lot of things! However, I have told my daughter that when mommy says no, "Why?" is not something she should ask. Sometimes, "Because mommy said so" is explanation enough. Even though it seems like this response works to end the conversation, my daughter does not give up on some issues.

The question that I hear on a daily basis is, "Can we get a dog?" I have tried every available negative answer for this one. From "it's too expensive" to "we don't have room." My daughter consistently tells me that she will walk the dog, comb the dogs hair, pull thorns from her paws, take her to the vet when she is sick and she will even let the dog sleep in her room. My daughter is very mature for a 5 year old. However, the answer is still "no." The funny thing, though, is my daughter has not given up asking us for a dog. Each day she asks us with the same intensity as the day before. I ask her if she remembers what I told her yesterday. She says "yes...But." My daughter is relentless. You know what has happened now? We are actually praying about getting a dog. So my husband and I have gone from "absolutely not" to "okay we will pray about it."

Persistence is a wonderful thing, especially in prayer. I have talked with many people who are praying about very serious issues on a daily basis. They are not giving up, even when the answer does not come right away. These people have encouraged me. In Luke 11:8 (NLT) it says, "if you keep knocking long enough, he will get up and give you whatever you need because of your shameless persistence." Jesus was telling a story about going to a friend's house to borrow bread at a late night hour. There is something to be said about this "shameless persistence." Am I going to the Lord in shameless persistence about my needs? Have I given up because the answer doesn't appear to be on the horizon? Persistence is more than just asking until we get what we desire. Persistence is simply taking God at is word and trusting that as we keep coming to Him, He is going to work in our hearts as well as our circumstances. If you are praying for healing, don't give up. If you are praying for the waters to part, don't give up. There are miracles to come both in our hearts and our lives as we seek Him fervently. My daughter isn't going to give up asking for a dog. Over time, maybe she will realize that even though she thought she wanted a dog, it is a fish that she really needs. (ha ha)

Potty Training

Ugh. That is the only word for it. There are so many times that I wish I could push a button on my son to have him potty trained. I have tried everything. My daughter was a snap. My mother-in-law came over, thanks again mom, so that I could devote all of my time to my daughter. I told her what we were doing and she just got it. Don't get me wrong, it was work, none of this party for the potty stuff. But after a good 24 hours of working on it, she just got it. "Okay, that wasn't so bad," I thought, "What is all the big deal about?"

Advice for all of you newer moms, don't ever think that you have it all figured out because God will bless you with another child that doesn't do anything similar to your first! My goodness boys are different than girls. My daughter is thoughtful, creative and enjoys developing make-believe worlds. My son on the other hand, was just running in a circle from our kitchen to the living room to the dining room seeing how many times it took for his pants to fall down as they were too big. He would laugh, pull them up and do it all over again. He is my child that gets into everything from chapstick to toilet paper, chocolate to cd cases. He can destroy things that I thought were indestructible. He jumps off of everything, climbs on anything he can and always has to pick up sticks, rocks, worms you name it. He truly is a very boyish boy!

Trying to get this boy to potty train is insane. There is no other word for it. I have put him in underwear. I even bought new pull ups that get cold when he pees in them. "Don't pee on Buzz Lightyear or he will make you freezy," I told him. Do you know what he said after he peed in them for the first time about 2 minutes after I put them on? "Mom, I peed in my underpants. No importa." So I can teach my 3 year old Spanish but I can't teach him to pee in a potty. Go figure.

"No importa" or "it doesn't matter" is a great phrase to hold onto. My son is over 3 and isn't potty trained, "no importa." My mothering style isn't like those other moms from my child's preschool, "no importa." I don't look like I belong on the cover of a magazine, "no importa." Now the thing that is "importa" is rejoicing in the days that God has given to us. "This is the day which the Lord has brought about; we will rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 118:24 Amplified Bible). I want to be glad each day. I made it through yesterday and I look forward to tomorrow, but I want to be GLAD in today. God is with us in the little things as well as the big. I pray about potty training my son. Someone actually laughed that I prayed about that. But guess what, we serve a big God who wants to help us through whatever we face including those little things that your kids deem as "no importa!"

Find joy and even laugh when you feel like you want to run in circles, scream and shout as my grandmother used to say. One of the best things I have found to dispel my anger and frustration with my kids is to laugh right out loud. REJOICE. Sometimes I even have to give myself a pep talk. In fact, my daughter has asked me before, "who are you talking to mom?" Mommy is just giving herself an encouraging word my dear. King David had to do it too. So take a moment today and just REJOICE. Go ahead and laugh. Make sure that things that aren't important aren't making you lose your joy! After all, this too shall pass. My son will wear underwear, even if it takes him until he is 5!

On Exercise

I enjoy exercise, especially running. My family was always active and my parents encouraged me to participate in sports. I am so thankful for a foundation in fitness. However, two children later, my running days have come to an end. Every time I try to jog I regret it the next day.

I can remember the start of my running was in college. My sister was a senior when I was a freshman. We would meet at a light pole at some ridiculous early morning hour and then take a nice morning jog which usually ended by the bagel shop where we quickly replaced any calories that we burned. I enjoyed the company more than I enjoyed the exercise actually. I can remember lots of times when my sister had to call to wake me up because I over-slept. If I wasn't racing from my dorm because I was late, I was racing to escape the crazy raccoons. Those were the days.

After my sister graduated I continued to run. I would run for an hour a day. I ran in a couple of races and was really in the best shape of my life. Boulder, Colorado, where I lived was by far the best place on earth to be a runner. I could run in the mountains or through fields with cows. I could run on streets or on miles of bike trails. I saw the sun rise many mornings on my jog. What a way to start a day!

I can't remember the last time I was outside when the sun rose. The last cow I saw was in my son's farm animal book. Yes, times have changed. My exercise routine now is pilates with my son sitting on my belly and my daughter trying to grab my feet! Many people say, "you chase after your kids all day, you get plenty of exercise." My scale tells me otherwise.

After over ten years of exercise, I am tired. I enjoy fitness but in my experience, our bodies can become our gods. My motivation for exercise has always been to stay thin. When we are more concerned about our exterior than our spirits, our priorities have become jaded. Paul tells us in 1 Timothy 4:8 (NLT) "Physical training is good, but training for godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come." My first priority needs to be spiritual fitness. Don't get me wrong, exercise is important and I still enjoy working out. But I think Paul gives us a wake up call here. When we exercise our spiritual bodies we will not only reap benefits now but in the life to come. We need to take care of the physical bodies that God has given us, but as I have found, you can make yourself miserable trying to live up to this world's standards.

Get some exercise. It does relieve stress and in moderation, it feels good. More importantly, I would challenge you to workout your Spirit through bible reading and prayer. I try to abide by the rule that I can't exercise physically if I haven't exercised spiritually. Both make you feel great but only spiritual exercise keeps your core burning longer than 4 hours!

Expectorant

Have you ever had that feeling that an elephant is sitting on your chest? It never fails when I get sick that my chest is the place my congestion settles. Every breath is arduous and sleeping? Forget it. Ugh! Nighttime is the worst time when you are sick. I dread going to bed with a cold. It seems like no matter how comfortable my bed has been in the past it always feels like rocks on those nights. My pillows, which I prefer to be cold to the touch when I get in bed, seem hot and sweaty and overstuffed. Once I make it to bed it takes 85 contortions and several leg kicks to make laying down tolerable. That blessed moment that I finally fall to sleep is always a long time coming. Of course after all the tossing and turning and trips out of bed and back for kleenex, I'd much rather stay awake all night. Which, really is what I do anyway. If I do enjoy the pleasure of falling asleep I inevitably wake up and roll over to look at the clock...a whole half hour has gone by. One down, 13 more to go. Good grief.

Like any other product, I am always in search of a good cold medicine. Especially one that will help me sleep without making me feel like I left half my body in bed when I rise. Now, most nighttime products have alcohol in them so I try to avoid those. I love good old Robitussin. It comes in all sorts of different types, but the kind I most often use is the DM. I have never understood this, but it is both an expectorant and a cough suppressant. I think that the expectorant is supposed to get that stuff out that makes you feel like an elephant is on your chest. The cough suppressant, well, suppresses your cough. So if you are getting the stuff out of your chest but not coughing...How does that work?? Weird. I use it though and it seems to do both things quite well.

Do you ever feel like you have an elephant sitting on your chest in your spiritual life? I think that we all go through seasons where we feel like we are hauling around a big weight. Or what about the times when we feel just ho-hum spiritually? As always, the bible has an answer for these aliments, a Robitussin of sorts. Colosians 3:16 in the NLT says, "Let the message about Christ, in all its richness, fill your lives. Teach and counsel each other with all the wisdom he gives. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to God with thankful hearts." Thankfulness is a spiritual expectorant. When we are thankful, worshipping is an easy thing and praise starts to 'loosen' in our hearts. When we lose sight of all that we have to be thankful for we become restless, like when we're sick. Mole hills become mountains and blessing are taken for granted.

Even when it seems like we don't have anything to be thankful for, it is imperative to take stock of how much we really do have. Things like breath, health, homes, familieis, fresh water and food are all things to be thankful to God for. When we do our part and start calling out our thanks to God for even the little things, He opens us up and allows the most beautiful praise to come forth and furthermore He pours His abundant love in to the deepest parts of us. Now that is good medicine!

Sparkle

I love to clean. I have always been neat and tidy...I can hear my mom laughing right out loud because that is entirely untrue. I was quite a little piggy as a child! Seriously though, when I went away to college it was like the short circuit in my brain that hated to clean, somehow fixed itself. I became organized and sort of a neat freak. I say sort of because there are definitely times when that same circuit in my brain somehow comes loose and I have to rewire. In fact, that happened the other day. We had a long season of the flu in my home and as a mother, during times of illness it is all I can do to keep the kitchen clean enough for us to eat from! My husband, out of a heart of compassion asked, "Do you want me to call a maid?" Now, I know that he was being sweet, but something inside me sparked when he asked if I wanted someone else to clean my house. I think my desire to keep a tidy home returned because I am the one always telling people about great cleaning products and it would have been awkward to have someone else cleaning my house with products that I probably didn't approve of!

So, off I went to tackle my mess. As I did, it occurred to me that I clean my kitchen table at least twelve times a day and it somehow never stays clean. Now that I think about it, it seems like I clean most areas of the house over and over and over again. Every time I get one area completely clean, the area I just moved from is a mess again. In fact, it never fails, when I have just mopped the kitchen floor and I go on to do something else, someone ALWAYS drops something out of the refrigerator or their toast jam side down. Why is that?!

Out of my frustration with trying to KEEP things clean I have become a sucker for new cleaning products. I enjoy going to Target to wander down the cleaning isle. My husband usually makes sure before he comes with me to the store, that I am just doing a "quick trip." In other words, "You aren't going to wander aimlessly down the cleaning or make-up isle to read the backs of every bottle again, are you?" Bless his heart, I don't think he'll ever understand that part of me! I am always on the lookout for products that not only clean but help keep surfaces clean and products that make cleaning quick. By the way, there is a certain line of cleaning products that have teflon in them to help repel dirt...Don't waste your money.

I have found the miracle cleaning product that no home should live without. What is this gem of the cleaning world? The wonderful, remarkable microfiber towel. Now, several companies make these and I can tell you that 3M makes my favorite one! The towels come 2 to a package and the seam around them is different colors. The way they work is you wet one and leave one dry...so my pink is always wet and my blue is always dry. You DON'T need any cleaning product with these and they work on a number of surfaces including counters, sinks, mirrors, floors, you name it! All you do is wet one and clean the area and then use the dry one to shine to a sparkle! They are phenomenal. (I just like to type that word!) They work especially well on faucets because you won't have any waterspots! I just love them. Oh, did I mention that they are cheap? Just a couple dollars will get you 1 pack. Of course, I think that I have about 5 sets. They make cleaning a snap and they save me money on expensive cleaners...I can hear my husband shouting hallelujah! Remember if you do buy them to wash them separately and never use softener on them or you'll end up with more of a smear than a sparkle.

I really do love to work hard in my home. It is wonderful when my husband comes home to hear him say, "the house looks great, honey." The bible also tells us to work hard at something. "Work hard to show the results of your salvation" (Phil 2:12 NLT). In this passage of scripture, Paul goes on to tell the Phillipians to "obey God with deep reverence and fear. For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him" (vs. 13 NLT) I don't know about you, but I need power. The next bit of this scripture is really, really tough. "Do everything without complaining and arguing" (vs 14). Well then, it seems like I work at this one as much as I clean the table in my house. Have you ever tried to go through a day, or sometimes 5 minutes without complaining about anything?? Wow! Paul continues, "Live CLEAN, (yea!) innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people" (vs 14 NLT). Cleaning goes beyond our homes. We are to keep our lives clean so that we too will sparkle to the world of unbelievers.

How is your house looking today? Do you need some microfiber towels?? How clean is your life right now? Is your sparkle more of a smear? Don't worry. Our God has something for that, it's called grace. No matter how messy our lives get, He is ready and waiting with His sanitizer and disinfectant. None of us on our own can keep our lives sparkling clean. You know that mess in your life that you keep trying to tidy up yourself? Give it to Him. That sin that is so awful you can't even look at it? Confess it to Him. God wants us to be clean and He alone gives us the power to live out clean lives. The cleaning power He has for us cost Jesus His life but it doesn't cost us anything but our willingness to surrender and keep surrendering! So hand over the products that you've been trying to use to make your life neat and tidy. Even microfiber can't clean our life messes, only Jesus can do that.

Foot Trouble

Recently, my daughter was playing on her brother's trike that is a bit too small for her. Let's just say that her knees are about above the handle bars while she is pedalling. It doesn't seem to bother her but it makes me hurt just watching her. Anyway, because the bike is too small it has a tendency to topple over. So as expected, it toppled a bit while she was riding it on our driveway. She tried to stop the toppling process which, as a parent watching, always seems to happen in slow motion. Just as you see it happen in slow motion your actions to run to prevent the mishap also seem to happen in slow motion. I think that it is one of the worst feelings as a parent to watch your child start to fall and then not be able to get there in time. I think the other thing that is equally as awful is watching the injury take place. For whatever reason, those images sear themselves on the forefront of your mind.

Thankfully, my daughter seemed okay when we got to her. She cried a little and then continued to play. A bit later, she complained that she could not walk because her foot hurt. I told her to relax, which I often do, because she has a tendency to be a bit dramatic (a flair that she inherited from her daddy...He once told his parents that he could not do his morning paper route because he was having chest pains). Anyway, my daughter continued to complain and would not put her weight on her foot. So off to the ER we went thinking the worst. The ER was empty, praise God, but for some reason unknown to man we waited about 25 minutes. Which to my chagrin was just enough time to watch a little girl come in with her mother, eat her fast food and then commence to throwing up. We were taken back to a room where we waited another 10 minutes...Why is that? By the time the doctor made it into the room, you will never guess what happened! Emma said, "I am healed, my foot feels much better." For those of you who are parents you might relate to the temporary miraculous thing that takes place in a doctor's office. You bring your child in for a certain and emergent thing and almost instantly in the doctor's office when the doctor comes in the cough is gone, the fever goes down and in my daughter's case the foot can move until of course you head home. Good grief.

The doctor put an ace bandage on Emma's foot and it was all better. We went home and put ice on it and she was up running around the next day. As parents, sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh, which my husband and I did and will do until we get the bill for the unnecessary hour and a half ER visit. We keep reminding ourselves that peace of mind is priceless, at least we found out that her foot was not broken.

One of my very favorite scriptures in the bible about feet is found in Habakkuk 3:19. My favorite translation is from the amplified bible which says,"The Lord God is my Strength, my personal bravery, and my invincible army; He makes my feet like hinds' feet and will make me to walk [not to stand still in terror, but to walk] and make [spiritual] progress upon my high places [of trouble, suffering, or responsibility]! First of all, I love verses that end with an explanation point! I just want to say, "Oh yeah!" when I read that verse. Go ahead, read it again slowly and then say, "Oh yeah!" That verse is so powerful!

I felt paralyzed when I watched my daughter fall from her trike. I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. Sometimes in our lives we feel that same way in a trial or tough situation. But God tells us that he is our 'personal bravery'! He makes us brave! He fights our fight. He helps us put one foot in front of the other and helps us keep walking up the mountain. The other great thing is that God not only gives us what we need to keep going he makes us grow through the process. He moves us on and takes us through. He doesn't leave us the same as when we entered the trail! Go ahead and say, "OH YEAH!"

If you are in the middle of a trial or you just feel plain stuck, put on your hiking gear and read and receive Habakkuk 3:19, use it like the ace bandage the doctor gave to my daughter in the ER and your feet too will be healed.

Sneaky

My daughter will probably end up in some sort of spy job when she is older. She has the ability to sneak down the stairs and tip toe across the room to right beside me without me knowing. It is only when I get that feeling that someone is watching me that I turn to see her. I try not to get upset with her but I end up so scared every time she does it that I find it difficult not to. She thinks that sneaking up on me is a very funny thing.

It is neat, however, to see that my daughter has begun to really think about the sneaky thing. She was playing with her dinosaurs the other day and I stopped to listen to what she was saying. One of the dinosaurs knew Jesus but none of the rest of them did. So the one who did know Jesus was teaching the others about how to ask Him into their hearts so they would be "safe from sin." I told her daddy of course about this incident and he asked her some questions like, "What is a sin?" Without batting an eye she responded, "being sneaky."

My husband and I just looked at each other and smiled. "Well said," I responded. Although there are some sins that arise from being sneaky, sin itself is sneaky. Remember the story of Cain and Abel. Cain was angry that God did not accept his sacrifice. God said to Cain, 'Why are you so angry...Why do you look so dejected? You will be accepted if you do what is right. But if you refuse to do what is right, then watch out! Sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master" (Genesis 4:6-9 NLT).

How do we "subdue" sin? We must be alert at all times. I have learned how to periodically look behind me to make sure that my daughter is not about to frighten me. Even more so, I need to be prepared for the temptations that knock on my door. When I am ready for battle, the enemy is powerless over me. You know what my daughter does when she sees I am ready for her to sneak up to me? She runs.

Sweeter than Honey

Every morning I get up and make my coffee. Now those of you who know me, know that I love coffee and not just any coffee will do. It has to be the one with the little green mermaid on it. For those of you who aren't coffee savvy the company's name comes from the book, Moby Dick, and the name of the first mate in that book is...drumroll please...Starbuck. So, the only kind of coffee in my book is Starbucks. My parents share my love of this brand and in fact call any other kind of coffee 'a warm beverage.' Anyway, I don't just make the old drip coffee, I make vanilla lattes.

Well, my love for vanilla lattes has recently evolved. I found that there was a little something missing. The solution? Starbuck's caramel sauce. If you have never tried this decadent treat you are truly missing out. This stuff is not just regular caramel. It can't even be compared with the dribble you get from the grocer's ice cream topping isle. No, this stuff is liquid gold. When I squeeze this caramel from the bottle it takes time for it to make its way into my coffee. After all, good things come to those who wait, right? Wow, once this stuff hits the perfect cap of foam on my vanilla latte, I can hardly put the caramel down before I am sipping it off my coffee. Now the reason I tell you this is that Starbuck's has this sauce on clearance right now. They are discontinuing it so it is half-off! Today is the day to revolutionize your sweet treat repertoire. Well, maybe I shouldn't have told you...If you live in the Chicago area I have probably already purchased any that is available. You'll have to enjoy it at my house.

Now as fantastic as this caramel sauce is there is still something sweeter and more satisfying. Sorry vanilla latte with caramel, you take a back seat. Psalm 119:103 says, "How sweet are Your words to my taste, sweeter than honey [or caramel sauce] to my mouth." The bracketed comment of course is my translation. God's word is supposed to be a sweet and satisfying meal.
Am I indulging in God's word and making it as precious to me as my morning coffee? Do I relish every word that God has inspired? I don't ever want to feel like reading my bible is an arduous task or something that I do because I am suppose to. My desire is to bolt out of bed not just because I have caramel to look forward to, but because God has an incredible banquet awaiting me. His words endure forever and won't ever be discontinued!

Have You Seen My...

What a question! It is one that I hear daily in my home. "Have you seen my cup?" "Have you seen my bear?" "Have you seen that book that has the little chick in it?" Somehow as mothers and wives we become the keepers and 'looker-afters' of everything. It is a full time job.

Well, let me be honest. My husband would chime in and say, "Sara Jane, you ask me where your keys are at least once a day." Yes, I find myself looking for all kinds of things during the day that I misplaced. Ever read that Shel Silverstein poem about a boy looking for his head and he ends up sitting on it to think about where he might have left it?? Boy can I relate to that feeling!

We all spend at least a little bit of time during our week looking for something. I am one of those people that can't rest until I find the lost item. I can't seem to relax until the mystery is solved. Many times I just find myself running around in circles checking and rechecking each spot until I am dizzy, tired and honestly quite irritable.

I was thinking about this feeling yesterday and I came across a scripture that struck me, "But as for me, I watch in hope for the LORD, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me." Micah 7:7. You may be saying, "What does that have to do with losing things?" Well, the feeling I have in crisis or struggle is often time the same feeling I have when I can't find something that is lost. You see, I am very good at working to figure things out on my own. I will run around in circles saying to myself, "What am I going to do about this?" Martha, Martha, Martha. This thinking of mine puts me in a position where my eyes are focused downward. God impressed on my heart that I can't watch for Him to move or even recognize when He has if I have my eyes focused on the circumstances. We are to "watch in hope for the Lord" and "wait for God [our] Savior." When we pray about our situation and even go so far as to stop dwelling on it and start dwelling with the One who is able, what a testimony we will have of His faithfulness. Not to mention the peace we receive by trusting God to handle things!

My kids never really get involved in the search for missing items. Most of the time they just watch and wait with anticipation because they believe that I am capable. They simply trust that I will find their lost toy, cup, etc. just like I promised I would. I just wonder if my actions suggest to onlookers that I believe that my God is capable to handle every thing that I face. Do I simply watch Him and wait with anticipation and believe in His promises to me? Perhaps as I make this a habit I will forfeit the dizzy, tired and irritable feelings?!

"Have you seen my...God move mountains?" He can.

Hair Dye

I still remember the first time that I got my hair colored...If you can call it that. Sorry mom, but I think the first "highlight" wasn't one of the 'highlights' of my life. I distinctly recall a boy named Justin asking me how it felt to go from a brunette to a blonde overnight. Let's just say that the highlight was more like dumping a plate of spaghetti on my head. I'm not sure that my mom and I really thought the color process through. I have a very fair complexion and extremely dark hair which most people thought was black in seventh grade. So, when I decided that I wanted highlights I didn't think about perhaps doing a lighter brown. Nope, we did blonde as blonde could be. If I had a picture I would add it here. It was horrible!

Well, my hair coloring days didn't end there. In fact, I think once you start coloring you are locked in. You can't just color and then say, "I'll never do that again." You see, there are these horrible things called 'roots' which keep growing out on the crown of your head. If you don't recolor when they start to rear their ugly heads, then everyone knows that your Mocha Brown number 27 isn't the color that you were born with. So thus begins the cycle of color, recolor. Maybe my sister and I are an anomaly, but we think it is kind of fun. You go to the store, sometimes the beauty supply store if you are feeling like you can color like a professional, and you can pick any color from platinum blonde to silvery pink, almond to jet black. I have never tried anything crazy, other than the spaghetti highlight episode. Nevertheless, I always get excited to pick out my color and take it home. I step into the bathroom, shake the color and developer together, apply, wait, (hold your breath from the smell) and voila. I exit the bathroom a new woman....Well not really. But it still makes me feel pampered. As my hairstylist says, "color gives you a little somthin, somthin." Whatever that means.

I am so very thankful that despite my transformation from blonde to light brown to jet black, God's word says in Matthew 10:30 that He has the very hairs on my head numbered. I try to make it difficult for Him by frequently changing the color of those hairs, but that doesn't stop Him! In fact He alone knows how many grey hairs I have plucked from my head! (Another great reason to color your hair!!) Anyway, God's word talks about our value in this passage. Our God knows the intimate details of our lives and He goes further than just knowing, He delights in the details. He cares so fervently for us and tells us that because of this, we never need be afraid.

I don't know what you are facing today. Maybe you just woke up in a slump or maybe you are dealing with a really tough situation. Take heart in knowing that God knows your name, your original hair color and how many of those hairs there are on your head. He has great rewards for those who continue to persevere under great pressure and during long trials. Another one of my favorite scriptures talks about God having our names tattooed on the palms of His hands. He never forgets. His love never fails. If only hair color never did.

Just Bananas

My latest great find is from Trader Joe's (one of my very favorite stores!) They have dried bananas that are called "Nothing But Banana,...Flattened." The ingredient list supports this claim as the only thing written there is "bananas." They are naturally sweet and really quite good once you get over the look and the initial smell. After you manage to get it into your mouth they taste like...Well, bananas. (Excellent alternative to candy in my book). If I can get my husband to eat them, then they are truly safe!~

Wouldn't it be nice if our life story could read something like those bananas, "Nothing but genuine kindness and love...Period." I'm the first to admit that I have all sorts of additives in my ingredient list that need to be removed. Sometimes I wish that I could reach inside and rid my ingredient list of those nasty things that have affected my relationships...Like pride, selfishness, insecurity and the list goes on.

My prayer is that God would give me a clean heart as Psalm 51:10 says. He alone can pare down my list of unnecessary extras that make me a source of "empty calories." As I yield to Him on a daily basis and walk by the Spirit of God than I know that I can proclaim, "By your grace God I am nothing but...Goodness." After all the only "good" in us is Jesus.