My children are microderm abrasion for my soul. They seem to often times bring out in me things I didn't know were hidden deep inside. A friend told me yesterday, "Just wait until they become teenagers!" I think I will just wait! There's enough bad coming out now, perhaps by the time they are teenagers my soul's "skin" will be as porcelain.
However, spa treatments, over time, purify and make the skin radiant. So, I can only conclude that God gives us children as a blessing...and with a specific purpose.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Fumble #4
Trying to cut my daughter's bangs. I convinced my husband that I was capable. I own barber scissors and a special comb for gathering hair to clip. I remember my mom cut my bangs when I was a kid and I don't remember it being any big deal. She used to gather them, twist them tight and then snip the bottom across. I did the same thing to my daughter's bangs while she complained about having to sit still. My husband stood behind with the trash basket in place. Again, another thing for my daughter to complain about, "What's that smell? Oh gross, what is that?" These questions came again and again. My husband raised his eyebrows and asked me more than once if I knew what I was doing. Okay. In female that means, "I don't trust you. You can't do this." This makes it even more challenging for me because I love to prove people wrong! My mom always said that I would make a great lawyer. Anyway. I snipped the bangs and I could only ever get about 3/4 of the way through the clip before the scissors closed all the way. Ugh. That last 1/4 was impossible to get even with the first bit. I cut. I cut a little more. I combed her bangs down again and again.
"There," I cried, "I did it." My husband concurred. It looks good. I sent my daughter off to bed pretty proud of myself. I can't sew so it made me proud that I could at least clip a bit of hair. This morning my daughter woke up and I braided her hair. (I did not give her a choice today...in case you read yesterday's saga). She looked adorable. She ran around the kitchen pretending to be a horse (not uncommon) and then I looked at her bangs. "Holy cow" was all I could say. There were long, short, long, short, long, short pieces. Her bangs looked crazy. As I got her into the car with her dad I told her to whisk them of to the side if the long pieces got in her eyes (this helped camouflage the fact that her mom CANNOT cut hair). Of course she was still busy neighing like a horse a did not hear a word I said.
After school I brought her home. I looked at her bangs again and combed them down. She would get frustrated and whisk them back into a mess with her hand. I would comb them down again and she would repeat. Finally, I enlisted daddy's help and he simply said, "Please take her to Great Clips." Enough said.
"There," I cried, "I did it." My husband concurred. It looks good. I sent my daughter off to bed pretty proud of myself. I can't sew so it made me proud that I could at least clip a bit of hair. This morning my daughter woke up and I braided her hair. (I did not give her a choice today...in case you read yesterday's saga). She looked adorable. She ran around the kitchen pretending to be a horse (not uncommon) and then I looked at her bangs. "Holy cow" was all I could say. There were long, short, long, short, long, short pieces. Her bangs looked crazy. As I got her into the car with her dad I told her to whisk them of to the side if the long pieces got in her eyes (this helped camouflage the fact that her mom CANNOT cut hair). Of course she was still busy neighing like a horse a did not hear a word I said.
After school I brought her home. I looked at her bangs again and combed them down. She would get frustrated and whisk them back into a mess with her hand. I would comb them down again and she would repeat. Finally, I enlisted daddy's help and he simply said, "Please take her to Great Clips." Enough said.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Fumble #3
Who know where these fumbles are going...but it is fun to spread the news of my imperfections, especially since my blog is called Sara Jane Says and really what I know is very little. (I am an extremely good pretender though!)
Onwards. Fumble #3 is Blaming my lack of having it together on my kids. Ouch. This morning I woke up to my husband asking me if I was going to get up. In female that sounds a lot like "You are being lazy. Get out of bed." Not how I anticipated this day starting. Now, I confess, I asked him to help me get up earlier. Big mistake, ladies. Huge. If you are anything like me, morning is a very fragile time. I remember growing up that my family never talked to me in the morning until after I had eaten my cereal. Enough said. I got up and read my bible. After that, I looked at the clock and turned it into high-gear (i.e. crazy mom on the loose mode). I made my daughter's sandwich and then heard her yelling "Mommy!!! Mommy!!!" I muttered to my husband, "Why can't she get out of bed and come down stairs when she is awake? Why must she scream?"
She made it down stairs with her sweet daddy's help. I promptly kissed her, set her in her chair and handed her a doughnut in one swift manner. I added her vitamins to her plate to compensate for the quick, non-nutritional, powdery mess that we called breakfast this morning. Moments later my son sneaked up on me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him with a kiss and set him up with the same quality breakfast that his sister had. I supplied them with a wet washcloth to clean their hands from all of the powder. I quickly ran upstairs to hop in the shower.
By the time I made it out of the shower my husband was running out the door. He was running late and so was I. Then it hit me. Ugh. I was suppose to get my daughter an empty pringles can for a project and I did not. So high gear turned into "you-better-watch-out-here-she-comes" mode. I got dressed, threw on makeup and my kids appeared before me arguing. Not uncommon these days. I told them to quit arguing and go get on the clothes that I had pulled out for them. I continued getting ready and then checked on the progress of dressing. My daughter had on her pants and no shirt and was cuddled in bed. My son still had on his pajamas. I told them (with a more stern tone) "Please get dressed." I dried my hair and called them into the bathroom to brush teeth. I had to wait for my son because his "toes were too cold to brush his teeth." He needed socks. I told him the socks were in the hamper in my room. Did I confess that I am horrible with laundry?? He found some socks and of course has to put them on just so. I resisted the urge to grab the socks and stick them on. My daughter finished her teeth brushing. I asked her how she wanted her hair, "Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "I want sports braids where you can't see the holder." I retorted, "We don't have time for that and I don't even know what it is." She said, "I will go get my book and show you." I responded, "We don't have time. Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "Sports braids." UGH!!! Finally I said, "You are getting a pony tail. I don't have time for this." I sent her downstairs.
I got her brother's teeth brushed and sent him downstairs only to hear the two of them arguing over who got to sit on what step. I threw some socks down to my daughter and asked her to put them on and asked my son to put on his shoes. I brushed my teeth and headed down to put on my shoes. My daughter had on no socks and my son was back upstairs. The wheels were coming off the wagon. "I told you to put on your socks!! Where is your brother??" My son came downstairs with a huge pile of books under his arm. To my amazement he made it down the stairs without dropping them. My daughter began to cry, "I can't do this!!" My six year old had not even tried to put on her socks but insisted that she was unable. I remember muttering something about her 4 year old brother being able to do it. Then I said, "No pringles can." My daughter began to cry and said, "Fine. Then I am not going to school." I replied, "Okay." Not the best response, I know. Remember, this is a fumble.
I convinced my daughter to get in the car and then she said something along the lines of "Fine then!" and crossed her arms. I replied with, "You are grounded." Without skipping a beat she asked, "From what?" I replied, "From anything fun." My son looked at me and asked, "From like toys and books and stuff?" I was not prepared to answer so many questions about a punishment that I thought would simply just spark a little bit of respect from my daughter. My plan backfired. We were on our way to school with me asking my daughter why she talks back to me yet she behaves beautifully at school? I did pull into CVS to buy some pringles and as we pulled into the spot my daughter just said a quiet, "Thank you mommy."
That quiet answer melted my heart. I knew she was sorry. We bought the pringles and on the way out to the car I got down at eye level with my daughter and said, "I love you. Let's have a good morning." I set the tone for my home. I realized that it was not my daughter's fault that I had not gotten the pringles can the night before. She had told me right after school yesterday that she needed it. It was not her fault that I did not get up earlier. It was not her fault that I neglected to pray. Ouch. Fumble. If I had been responsible, I might have dealt with my daughter's whining and complaining in a better manner. Don't get me wrong, it is not okay for her to whine. Then again, it is not okay for me either.
Onwards. Fumble #3 is Blaming my lack of having it together on my kids. Ouch. This morning I woke up to my husband asking me if I was going to get up. In female that sounds a lot like "You are being lazy. Get out of bed." Not how I anticipated this day starting. Now, I confess, I asked him to help me get up earlier. Big mistake, ladies. Huge. If you are anything like me, morning is a very fragile time. I remember growing up that my family never talked to me in the morning until after I had eaten my cereal. Enough said. I got up and read my bible. After that, I looked at the clock and turned it into high-gear (i.e. crazy mom on the loose mode). I made my daughter's sandwich and then heard her yelling "Mommy!!! Mommy!!!" I muttered to my husband, "Why can't she get out of bed and come down stairs when she is awake? Why must she scream?"
She made it down stairs with her sweet daddy's help. I promptly kissed her, set her in her chair and handed her a doughnut in one swift manner. I added her vitamins to her plate to compensate for the quick, non-nutritional, powdery mess that we called breakfast this morning. Moments later my son sneaked up on me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him with a kiss and set him up with the same quality breakfast that his sister had. I supplied them with a wet washcloth to clean their hands from all of the powder. I quickly ran upstairs to hop in the shower.
By the time I made it out of the shower my husband was running out the door. He was running late and so was I. Then it hit me. Ugh. I was suppose to get my daughter an empty pringles can for a project and I did not. So high gear turned into "you-better-watch-out-here-she-comes" mode. I got dressed, threw on makeup and my kids appeared before me arguing. Not uncommon these days. I told them to quit arguing and go get on the clothes that I had pulled out for them. I continued getting ready and then checked on the progress of dressing. My daughter had on her pants and no shirt and was cuddled in bed. My son still had on his pajamas. I told them (with a more stern tone) "Please get dressed." I dried my hair and called them into the bathroom to brush teeth. I had to wait for my son because his "toes were too cold to brush his teeth." He needed socks. I told him the socks were in the hamper in my room. Did I confess that I am horrible with laundry?? He found some socks and of course has to put them on just so. I resisted the urge to grab the socks and stick them on. My daughter finished her teeth brushing. I asked her how she wanted her hair, "Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "I want sports braids where you can't see the holder." I retorted, "We don't have time for that and I don't even know what it is." She said, "I will go get my book and show you." I responded, "We don't have time. Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "Sports braids." UGH!!! Finally I said, "You are getting a pony tail. I don't have time for this." I sent her downstairs.
I got her brother's teeth brushed and sent him downstairs only to hear the two of them arguing over who got to sit on what step. I threw some socks down to my daughter and asked her to put them on and asked my son to put on his shoes. I brushed my teeth and headed down to put on my shoes. My daughter had on no socks and my son was back upstairs. The wheels were coming off the wagon. "I told you to put on your socks!! Where is your brother??" My son came downstairs with a huge pile of books under his arm. To my amazement he made it down the stairs without dropping them. My daughter began to cry, "I can't do this!!" My six year old had not even tried to put on her socks but insisted that she was unable. I remember muttering something about her 4 year old brother being able to do it. Then I said, "No pringles can." My daughter began to cry and said, "Fine. Then I am not going to school." I replied, "Okay." Not the best response, I know. Remember, this is a fumble.
I convinced my daughter to get in the car and then she said something along the lines of "Fine then!" and crossed her arms. I replied with, "You are grounded." Without skipping a beat she asked, "From what?" I replied, "From anything fun." My son looked at me and asked, "From like toys and books and stuff?" I was not prepared to answer so many questions about a punishment that I thought would simply just spark a little bit of respect from my daughter. My plan backfired. We were on our way to school with me asking my daughter why she talks back to me yet she behaves beautifully at school? I did pull into CVS to buy some pringles and as we pulled into the spot my daughter just said a quiet, "Thank you mommy."
That quiet answer melted my heart. I knew she was sorry. We bought the pringles and on the way out to the car I got down at eye level with my daughter and said, "I love you. Let's have a good morning." I set the tone for my home. I realized that it was not my daughter's fault that I had not gotten the pringles can the night before. She had told me right after school yesterday that she needed it. It was not her fault that I did not get up earlier. It was not her fault that I neglected to pray. Ouch. Fumble. If I had been responsible, I might have dealt with my daughter's whining and complaining in a better manner. Don't get me wrong, it is not okay for her to whine. Then again, it is not okay for me either.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Fumble #2
Hoping everyone will approve of the mothering choices I make. Simply, the only opinion I need to worry about is my heavenly daddy's. My daughter at age 6 is already concerned about what others around her think. I am overwhelmed by this. Now, she should care what mamma thinks, but it is funny, mamma can tell her what she thinks about her poor behavior and my daughter, again at age 6, has the amazing ability to completely tune me out! She needs to learn to listen to mom and I need to learn to listen more closely to God. I need to model this so well to my precious, tender daughter too. What this world thinks of us does not matter and won't matter when I am standing before the King!! I am only accountable to Him....well and my husband. But no one else!
Speaking of my husband, a bit off the subject but noteworthy nonetheless...we took a family trip today to Trader Joe's. Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I love this store. Healthy food at reasonable prices and reasonable coffee for free when you shop. How could you go wrong?? Tonight was particularly fun because they were playing some great 80s music. Again, those of you who know me, know that it is bad to be in a public place with my husband when 80s music is playing. Why? Because he turns into a complete lunatic. He lip syncs and throws his hands in the air like he is at a rock concert; an 80s rock concert! My kids absolutely love this behavior and in fact encourage it. So tonight, I turn around in a very crowded Trader Joe's to see my husband dancing, yes Dad Cook, you read it right...dancing in the aisle with my 4 year old son head banging and my daughter dancing and giggling like only she can. Then my husband yells, "Come on. Everybody now." I looked up and behold, a complete stranger had joined in the dancing. Good grief. What to do but join in. We really are a bunch of fools. But I would not have it any other way.
Speaking of my husband, a bit off the subject but noteworthy nonetheless...we took a family trip today to Trader Joe's. Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I love this store. Healthy food at reasonable prices and reasonable coffee for free when you shop. How could you go wrong?? Tonight was particularly fun because they were playing some great 80s music. Again, those of you who know me, know that it is bad to be in a public place with my husband when 80s music is playing. Why? Because he turns into a complete lunatic. He lip syncs and throws his hands in the air like he is at a rock concert; an 80s rock concert! My kids absolutely love this behavior and in fact encourage it. So tonight, I turn around in a very crowded Trader Joe's to see my husband dancing, yes Dad Cook, you read it right...dancing in the aisle with my 4 year old son head banging and my daughter dancing and giggling like only she can. Then my husband yells, "Come on. Everybody now." I looked up and behold, a complete stranger had joined in the dancing. Good grief. What to do but join in. We really are a bunch of fools. But I would not have it any other way.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Fumble #1
#1: Saying yes when I should say no. (Please don't say I told you so.) I have tried to be super mom and there ain't nothin' super about my underclothes anymore! Let me explain. I used to have Superwoman underoos when I was a kid. The underwear and camisole turned me super human. At least they made me look super human and that boosted my ego. My $18 push up bra and 5 pack of Hanes briefs just don't seem to have the same effect. Besides the obvious 25 plus years and having 2 kids, my "underoos" these days don't make me feel so super. Neither does missing God.
I pray and I ask the Lord to direct my steps. Yet sometimes I feel like following a pillar of fire would be easier than discerning a yes, no or wait from a still, small voice. I constantly question was that me or was that God? Was that from Him or was that idea from the chocolate I ate before bed last night. I get it right sometimes. I get it wrong a lot. I get frustrated trying to figure it all out a lot. I seek and ask for wisdom and sometimes its as though I get more confused. I can't really figure this out and probably never will. What I do know today is that yesterday I thought it was a yes. I said yes. Today, I feel as no would have been a better choice because the yes was really not best. Confused?? Me too.
I'm a mom, a pastor's wife and a girl who fumbles and bumbles through this life just trying to hear from God and do my best without the help of my underoos. Sometimes my best is pathetic at most. Today, I have decided that what it seems like or what it looks like to me really doesn't matter. I am on a journey towards God to figure out how to get into His Presence and "park it," as my mom would say, for good. I long to find that hemmed in place where I can encounter Jesus face to face. A relationship where there are no questions of what was said because it will be understood.
God help me. That's all I can pray here. Sometimes I say yes thinking that is right. Sometimes I say no with a regret. As I continue on in my walk, help me to hear you. Teach me what it is to do this thing together. Show me how to walk in your truth. Guide me each moment by the power of your Holy Spirit. Remove the wax from my spiritual ears and help me develop listening skills. Thank you Lord that you don't give up. You don't give me up. I fail so often and yet you remain. I am not deserving of your grace and yet you hold it out so tenderly. Thank you precious Father. Let us begin again. In your most Holy name, Amen.
I pray and I ask the Lord to direct my steps. Yet sometimes I feel like following a pillar of fire would be easier than discerning a yes, no or wait from a still, small voice. I constantly question was that me or was that God? Was that from Him or was that idea from the chocolate I ate before bed last night. I get it right sometimes. I get it wrong a lot. I get frustrated trying to figure it all out a lot. I seek and ask for wisdom and sometimes its as though I get more confused. I can't really figure this out and probably never will. What I do know today is that yesterday I thought it was a yes. I said yes. Today, I feel as no would have been a better choice because the yes was really not best. Confused?? Me too.
I'm a mom, a pastor's wife and a girl who fumbles and bumbles through this life just trying to hear from God and do my best without the help of my underoos. Sometimes my best is pathetic at most. Today, I have decided that what it seems like or what it looks like to me really doesn't matter. I am on a journey towards God to figure out how to get into His Presence and "park it," as my mom would say, for good. I long to find that hemmed in place where I can encounter Jesus face to face. A relationship where there are no questions of what was said because it will be understood.
God help me. That's all I can pray here. Sometimes I say yes thinking that is right. Sometimes I say no with a regret. As I continue on in my walk, help me to hear you. Teach me what it is to do this thing together. Show me how to walk in your truth. Guide me each moment by the power of your Holy Spirit. Remove the wax from my spiritual ears and help me develop listening skills. Thank you Lord that you don't give up. You don't give me up. I fail so often and yet you remain. I am not deserving of your grace and yet you hold it out so tenderly. Thank you precious Father. Let us begin again. In your most Holy name, Amen.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Somebody needs it
I just want to send out a blanket encouragement...I know that someone needs it. Simply: DON'T GIVE UP. You are going to make it. Keep your shoulders squared up with the Holy God who dances over you with joy. He will never fail you. He knows what He is doing. All He asks is that you cooperate. Don't try to get out of the tight grip that He has on you. What He is doing in you is worth the wait. Be still, calm, quieted to the depths of who you are and know that HE is God! The mountains seem high at the base but when you see the geography from above it is no match for the creator of the world. Step by step in His presence you will make it. Celebrate for you have already been given the victory. Live like it. Enjoy the process. You are a darling of the Most Glorious King!
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