A Walk through the kindergarten

Yep. Today was the big day. The first day of "real" school for my 5 year old. No more play clothes and no more sleeping in...for either one of us.

The day started for me about well, midnight. My daughter screamed out in her sleep as she was about to be consumed by a giant squid. "No, honey, there is no giant squid. Go back to sleep." I told her. She rolled over and went back to sleep. Three hours later she cried out again. This time it was a swarm of mosquitoes. "No, honey, there are no mosquitoes. Go back to sleep." This time her slumber lasted a half hour. This time Daddy had gone missing and we could not find him. "Honey, daddy is very asleep in our bed. He is fine. Now go back to sleep. You need to be well rested for your first day of school!" She went back to sleep after a bit more reassuring.

My slumber ended there. My alarm went off about a half hour later. I laid in bed and prayed for my daughter. I didn't know if she was anxious or just excited or maybe it was the brownie she had at 7:00p.m. before bed. Whatever it was, I was frustrated that she didn't get a good night's sleep the day before school. Regardless, I woke her about 7:00a.m. and we started our day together.

I made her and me breakfast and we talked all about her first day. Parents were able to stay for an hour to get their child situated. Thank goodness. She needed me for at least that long. (NOT!) I had ironed her uniform the night before and had already made her lunch. Her brother woke about 20 minutes before departure time. We all ate. We all brushed teeth and we all yawned as we got in the car. We hit bad traffic right away. Of course. Then daddy almost got in a wreck in front of us as we were taking 2 cars. Thank you Lord that you helped me to get out of bed and cover this day in prayer before it began!! My son cried most of the way to the school as I had not allowed him to climb into his carseat by himself. I tried to nicely explain that we have started a new "schedule" and it did not include him doing things slowly by himself. (It sounds horrible just typing that. I have adjusted the schedule tomorrow to accommodate traffic and brothers and their carseats. So that puts me waking about 4:30 a.m.)

As we arrived at the school daddy was busy snapping pictures. I think we could actually make a cartoon if we put the pictures in a pile. He snapped like every 2 seconds. I think he was a little excited and proud of his little girl! My son did not want to keep up and found several thing to play with that simply would not fit in the schedule. I tell you what, If I want to make it anywhere on time he just must be carried!

My daughter's classroom was organized chaos. All of the parents were busy labeling their child's school supplies. We were to put pencils, markers and crayons in their pencil box that the teacher labeled with their names. The rest of the supplies were piled or placed at various stations around the room. The whole time that I was working with my daughter a little boy named Samuel who sits at her table, had his mom talking at him (not to him, at him) a million miles an hour in Korean. It did not seem to bother my daughter. She was just excited to open and close her pencil box. Tears filled my eyes as we emptied all of our Target bags. All of my preparing was done. All of my coaching like, "Eat your lunch. Bring home your lunch bag. Don't talk in class. Make sure to wash your hands after you go potty" was over. I had done all that I could do and now I had to, gulp, leave.

It was time for the parents to bid adieu to their little ones. My daughter had already said goodbye to me several times before the teacher was ready to dismiss the parents. "Just a second. Mommy can stay one more minute." She was ready, I didn't have a choice. My son had been ready to leave the second we got to the school. "I want to go home," was all that I heard besides all of the Korean that I could not understand. My head was spinning. My mind was racing and I had to leave my precious gem in classroom with 12 little boys and 5 other girls. I cried a bit on the way to the car until my son looked at me and said, "It is just me and you and daddy." I think he was just as excited about my daughter going to school as she was.

It has been eerie in my house today. It was so quiet I had to turn on the tv. My daughter is definitely the life of my every day party. My son and I enjoyed a quiet lunch and played together just the two of us. I got a lot done around my house. Boy, what a change.

I don't have a scripture today, just a principle. The only way that I was able to relax today is knowing that I had prayed and committed my daughter to the Lord today. He was in control. He is watching her. He is sustaining her. I felt more burdened than ever before to pray for my kids. I can't waste any time. Prayer for our families is so important, and not just when they are getting ready to start school. I need to be praying for my children daily. Every day! The same should be true for my spouse! I was just overwhelmed with the responsibility that I have as a mom and a wife to keep my family covered in prayer.

I had some warriors praying for me today as I took a big step into a new season. Thanks for your prayers! Prayer works. I want to see a worn spot on my carpet from my consistent prayer life! Help me Lord. Help me to maintain consistency in my prayers. Not because I have to, but because I desperately need to!

Quiet Time

Ahhh. This morning my husband blessed me with a wonderful gift. He decided to take the kids to a movie. It had been stormy all night and the rain had continued into the morning. After several days of excessive heat warnings and cabin fever, the kids were excited. I think I was actually more excited. What would I do with 2 hours of quiet time in my own house?

After getting the kids in the car and kissing their cheeks, I headed inside. I picked up a few dishes and kind of wandered around. What should I do? It was weird. I did not know what to do with myself. I could clean but I felt like that would be a complete waste of good time! :) I did decide that making my bed was okay, while I decided to figure out what I would do. After I made my bed I sat down and just listened to a CD I had put a few moments before. I had listened to this particular CD several times before. For some reason, though, I just soaked it in. I closed my eyes and really focused. Wow. I actually was able to process something. I wasn't interrupted by a fight (which is common in my home these days) or a "Mom, I need help." I just completely immersed myself in the music and peace. What a blessing peace is.

If you are anything like me, music helps keep you sane. However, my children have realized that there are CDs made especially for kids. Every time we get in the car I hear, "We want to listen to our songs." My car used to be sort of my hideaway during a difficult day. Not any more with songs like, "The Crashing Dinosaurs" or "Birthday Party at Your Place" or "Let's See if We Can Scream One More Time" or "Eat spaghetti Eddie" or "The Song With Only 5 Words that Lasts 5 Minutes." Yes, I made up all of those titles but I am quite sure someone could come up with music and lyrics that my kids would love and I would despise. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for Kid's Praise Music that teaches my kids how to worship. However, the problem that these CDs cause is that my kids fight over who gets to be the "rock star." If my son is singing he quickly pauses and screams "No! I'm singing" at his sister before joining the song again at the chorus. My daughter then just sings louder so she can't hear her brother singing. Ugh. I'd be better off rolling down the windows and letting the sound of traffic in!

Yes, 30 minutes of my music with no interruptions was fantastic. Listening to worship music is one of my sacred pathways. If you have not read the book, "Sacred Pathways" I highly recommend it. It talks about the ways each of us as individuals relate to God and best hear him. I would have to say that usually the Megaphone and Flashing Billboard get my attention, but sometimes like today it is the peace that reassures me that I have a savior who loves me. Thanks God for peace. Thank you that you not only give us your peace, You are the gift of Peace. Help me to grab hold of the peace you offer so when my world seems to clang with the issues of life, I would easily hear your still small voice.

Vacation

Ah. Vacation. We just recently returned from a fabulous vacation to Kansas. Some of you might be thinking that fabulous and Kansas don't belong in the same sentence but my sister and her husband found a great little spot that is pretty close to paradise. They live in a suburban-like neighborhood but have rolling hills (yes, in Kansas) just a quick jog away. Okay, yes I started jogging again. I went with my brother-in-law up these rolling hills on our vacation and I had to intercede for myself the whole way! But I loved it!

Vacation is so necessary. It is the returning home that I don't care for. On the way to Kansas the fun little game of, "Are we there yet?" is exciting and cute. On the way home it is more of the, "Don't ask me again, I said!" sort of feeling. The laundry and housecleaning, cooking and errands all seem to overwhelm when the garage door goes up after returning home from vacation. Back to the daily grind. Literally for me because I drink my lattes every morning!

The thing that I always find difficult on vacation is bible reading and prayer. Who wants to set an alarm to get up early on vacation? With all of the fun activities I know that my quiet time goes to the back burner. "I'm on vacation, God. I'll be back next Wednesday and I will meet with you then." Just typing that out was painful. I'm not thinking that God is really down with that, do you? I wonder if my return trip would have been filled with more patience and less frustration if I didn't cross out God on my vacation? (I have been thinking that I should write a book entitled, "God on Vacation" filled with short devotions that would fit in to our busy vacation schedules. If I write it, you have to buy it!)

When I sat down to do my devotions today it was difficult. It was like trying to ride a bike that has sat dusty in the garage all winter. It takes a lot more effort, a little more elbow grease and a lot more concentration than during the summer when you ride practically all day. (We just got our kids new bikes and watching them learn to ride is whole different blog! Pray for us!) What did I miss those couple days away from God. What might He have wanted to tell me that could have impacted my life even today? Maybe you think that I am making a mountain out of a molehill but I have lived the consequences of days spent apart from God. One day turns into three and before you know it priorities become completely mixed up. I know God knows my heart and my intentions but I seem to remember that good intentions don't really lead anywhere that I want to go.

All of this to say that I am SO VERY THANKFUL that God is faithful even when I am not. He never takes vacation Hallelujah and He is quick to forgive and restore. He spoke to me today, something that I am sure He has been trying to tell me for a week now. You see, I have been doing a bible study entitled, Believing God, and as part of that Bible study I was suppose to fast something. I was also suppose to wear a blue bracelet to remind me of that commitment. Guess what? My bracelet is waded up on my bathroom counter and my commitment to be positive for 30 days did not make it through 9 hours in the car with my kids on vacation. Now as I am starting over I read today that I was suppose to journal "God Stops" or ways that I am seeing God's presence in my day. I can't expect to see Him when I ain't lookin'! (Sorry about the grammar there but it just seemed to get my point across better!)

Anyway, today I found myself overwhelmed, underfed spiritually, alone and just plain in the mully grubs. I talked with my husband about it, complained to God and wasn't the greatest mom to my kids. I took my kids to library and had forgotten my library card. The kids were crying and I was trying to talk on my cell phone. I couldn't hear and they didn't care. I got off the phone and out of my car and just wanted throw in the towel. Just then, as my son walked ahead of me and my daughter behind she said, "Hey mom, I just want you to know that I am here. I know that you can't see me right now because I am behind you, but I want you to know that I am here." Even though my daughter said those words to me, I knew that God was speaking them right along with her. I know that God goes before us, but his word also says that he follows behind. Just like my daughter was doing. I couldn't see God or hear Him but He wanted me to know that He was the I AM. The God who is constantly and presently being.

Thank you Lord that you never leave us. Thank you that you never take a long weekend or a day off. Help me, Lord as I try to reprioritize after leaving you by the highway while I traveled on down the road. Thank you that you speak to us and reveal yourself to us as long as we can STOP long enough to see you. Continue to speak, continue to show your self to me. Help me where I am weak and weary. Help me to trust in your strength and not my own!

Thinkin' on Truth not Troubles

It is amazing to me how our minds work. God is pretty amazing. Quite breathtakingly, overwhelmingly, can't put -it into the right words, outright shock your socks off AMAZING! I have been doing a bible study by Beth Moore entitled Believing God which I highly recommend. She asks the tough question about what kind of God are we believing? So, therefore, I have been challenged not to minimize God as not simply amazing because really that doesn't even begin to describe the greatness of our God...and isn't that a wonderful thing?! Anyway, God's creative, ELOHIM powers that created our brains is well mind-boggling. Have you ever been sitting in church and had a thought come over you that is well straight from the pit of hell? How is it that things just seem to pop into our minds?

My mind struggle in addition to "taking every thought captive" (2 Cor. 10:5) is to "think on things that are true" (Phil. 4:8) Of course, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in my daughter's struggle as well. The other day after putting my daughter to bed, she called me back into her room. Usually this is some sort of ploy to avoid sleep, so I super-patient mom usually barge into her room filled with impatience. My daughter and I had been looking through her scrapbook from when she was a child. She saw the pictures of her early on in the hospital. She asked me why she had to be in the hospital. As I began to tell her the story and reflect on the goodness of God I began to cry. For those of you who don't know, my daughter had a blood infection that has a mortality rate of 50%. Furthermore, the 50% that survive have a very high percent chance of severe brain damage. My daughter not only survived, but I think God somehow enlarged and enhanced her brain in the process! Isn't it just like our God to far exceed and surpass our expectations or hopes! GOD is so good.

So after talking about this with my daughter, we cried and hugged and rejoiced together. What a gift to praise God with your child! There have been many times when I needed a prayer partner and my daughter volunteers. She has a very tender heart and spirit. So back to the bedtime scene. My daughter said to me, "You got that in my mind." My daughter was restless and could not sleep because she was dwelling on something in her mind. Her thoughts were keeping her awake. She was anxious. I told her, after praying, that once we pray about something we need to stop thinking about it. I once heard one of my favorite bible teachers call this problem of dwelling on troubles, "stinkin thinkin." I explained this to my daughter and of course we both laughed. "No more stinkin thinkin." I have heard her say that out loud to her dad. Hooray! She is getting the idea.

I love Philipipans 4:8 in the NLT, "Fix your thoughts on what is true..." My mom used to tell me when I was unruly and running around when I was not suppose to, to "get over here and park it." That is sort of what Paul says in this verse, "Stop letting your mind run around. Get it parked on what is true." Just this morning I had a chance to exercise this. I was feeling overwhelmed with my schedule and I had to make a call to a friend to reschedule a coffee date. I agonized over it because I allowed my mind to think on this think called the "what-ifs." What if she doesn't understand. What if she thinks I am wishy washy? What if she is offended? By the time I picked up the phone to call her I was so stressed out that I could hardly function to do anything else productive. I was stinkin thinkin. For all I know my friend didn't mind and was actually thankful for a little bit of freedom in her schedule too! Good grief.

I am thankful for my daughter's ability to be transparent. I am thankful that she shares her struggle with me. (I am not thankful that we share the same struggle though!) My prayer today is that I would be an example for my daughter. That I would park my thoughts on truth. A promise follows that command in Phillipians, "Then the God of peace will be with you." (vs 9) I want the God of peace to be with me. I want the God of peace to give my daughter rest during the night. It is that simple and it is that hard. Remind yourself as I do daily, (moment-ly...good word eh?) to park it on what is true and quit that thinkin that does nothing but stink to high heaven. I want to be the aroma of Christ, glorifying him with all of my being including my thouhts!

Just Another Ordinary Day

What a Wednesday. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, my children were cooperating. My husband and I had stayed up late the night before setting up a new discipline system. We were watching less tv, we frolicked in the sun. Okay, okay. You get the idea.

Wednesday nights are fun because we have church. My kids love their classes and we get to eat at the church cafeteria. I guess when you are 3 and 5 cereal and chicken rings are something to get excited about! Anyway, we had enjoyed (if you can call it that) our meal and we were off to play for a few minutes before church started. There is a little area where the kids can play on foam animals. If we have extra time the kids beg me to go and play there. I was feeling generous and the kids were so well behaved that I let them play for awhile. (If any of you know me, you know that I despise foam play yards. I believe in my heart of hearts that they are cess pools of germs...) There was another little girl in the play area as well. We got to talking about all kinds of mom stuff while we sat watching our kids. Of course the potty training issue came up. I said with a smile, "Oh we have crossed that threshold. My son is doing great. He has had a few a accidents, but no big deal." I even made it into a spiritual thing, "I just prayed about it and God helped us through." She replied, "That is great. I can't get my daughter to cross the finish line in that area. She kind of has good days and days that she doesn't want anything to do with it." I smiled a compassionate smile and said, "It will come." I could gag at myself right now as you will see later. (Embarrassingly, I was actually thinking in my mind, "Yes, the Lord moved on our behalf and I, Mom of the Year, have it all figured out. I will pray for you my friend, that God will help you too potty train your wee little one.")

A few minutes later I took my son to his classroom while my husband took my daughter to hers. My husband had taken my son pee before class so I figured we were set for the next hour. I was so proud of my son and so proud of myself as a mother. "I have done it. Lord, thank you that you gave me the ability to guide my son through the potty training ways of life." I smiled at the workers and asked, "Will you ask if he has to go potty once during the hour?" The worker replied, "No, but if he is doing the potty dance we will ask him." Fair enough, I thought. I commented as I left the classroom, "He will be fine. He is doing great with the potty." Ugh. Famous last words. A friend of mine overheard me and commented, "Your son is doing great with the potty? That is so wonderful!!" I replied with a look of glee, "He is doing awesome. He is potty trained. Nothing to it. It was such a breeze!" Again, I feel like I want to gag right now...

I headed into the sanctuary and began singing my praises to God. Everything was so perfect. I just had that feeling of satisfaction. I looked to my left and the short man with glasses from my son's class was standing next to me as I sang. He leaned over and seemed afraid to talk. I just raised my eyebrows and asked, "Did my son have an accident?" The man just shook his head yes as if he was the one who failed and even seemed relieved that he was not the one to have to say those words. I made the long walk from the sanctuary back to my son's class. The whole awkward walk was filled with encouragement from this man. "I remember that my son was almost 4 before we had him trained. We had tried everything." I again said, "Normally my son does really well. We always seem to have those little (I emphasized the word little) accidents when we aren't at home though." Now remember, I was thinking that I was super mom today. I could not quite figure out why this kind mind seemed so sympathetic and compassionate over pee. Hadn't he ever heard the phrase about not crying over spilled milk?? I thought to myself, "Come on sir, have you not had to clean up a little pee in your day?"

I arrived at the classroom and saw the other worker who had the same look of sadness. "Where is he?" I asked. The female teacher simply pointed to her left. As I walked into the bathroom the direction she pointed I heard her say, "I hope you brought a complete change of clothes and lots of wipes." Now that caught me off guard. I thought to myself, "What is wrong with these people? Is this their first Wednesday around 3 year olds?!" The bathroom had little curtains that pull closed instead of doors. I pulled back the little fishy curtain only to find my son sitting on the potty with (there is no other words to describe, I am sorry in advance) soft, messy poop from his ankles up his legs, on the potty, up his back and on his shirt. My cherubic son looked and me and immediately said, "I had a acc'adent." I was in shock. This was not just an "acc'adent" this was complete humiliation! I could not believe first of all that my son would sit still in this mess on the potty behind the fishy curtain for the 5-7 minutes it took for the teachers to come and find me and for me to return. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I had no wipes so I began grabbing paper towels. You know the kind. The sand paper towels that come out of the dispenser pre-cut. You simply pull and one brown sheet of what seems like construction paper is ready for you to use! What in the world is this stuff anyway. It doesn't want to be wet if you wet it and it doesn't want to dry anything if you try and wipe anything up. Nonetheless, I grabbed a few and began to wet some and keep others dry. I began wiping the toilet, my son's legs and his back all at the same time. I finally decided that I must remove my son's shoes and try to get the underwear off. (It was his favorite pair of Mr. Incredible underwear, sorry Mr. Incredible, but I don't know how to help you out of this mess...) I got the underwear off and I remembered that my husband had shared with me something that his mom did with his poopy underwear when he was potty training. He had told me that she held it in the toilet while she flushed it and sort of moved the underwear up and down in the swish of water to clean it so it could be safely placed in the washing machine. So my barefoot, underwear free, poo poo painted son turned and watched as I held the underwear with my left had and flushed the potty with my right hand. I quickly shook the underwear in the swishing water to wash it clean when the suction power of the flush whisked the underwear out of my hand and down the drain. My son's eyes got as big as quarters and he let out a cry, "Mommy you flushed my underpants." I couldn't believe it. What had I done wrong? I didn't know that I should have had a two-handed grip on the underwear after the flush to keep them from being sucked away. My husband didn't tell me that part!

I comforted my son the best I could without soiling myself. Just then another little boy pulled back the curtain with a curious look on his face. I quickly grabbed the curtain and said, "We've had an accident. We need some privacy." The teacher came in and scooted the boy away as if to say, "There is nothing to see here. Please keep moving." Little did she know. My poor son was now completely traumatized. I pulled some pull ups from my purse and got them on my son to simply contain his messy bottom. I really didn't know what else to do. I thought about the hose right outside for a split second. But then thought that it might be embarrassing for my son to have his mother hosing him off outside the church classroom window for all his peers to see. I am not sure how it happened but he had poop all the way up to his neck on the inside of his shirt. I never thought to pack extra shirts for my son. I put on his extra pair of shorts that I had so confidently remembered to grab on the way out of the house "just in case." I sent him to the sink to wash his hands. In my mind I wished I could have put his whole body in the sink. I was still in complete shock.

Just then the female teacher came in with some Clorox wipes. She asked me if I needed a bag to put the soiled clothes in. I just said sheepishly, "Uh, no that's okay. I think I have got it pretty well cleaned up." What I really wanted to say is that I, super mom had simply just flushed the whole mess down the toilet. No need for an old plastic bag. She brought me a bag anyway. Maybe I could just put my son in the bag. I just looked at her and said, "I thought that my son just peed. Good grief." She replied, "You mean the other teacher did not tell you when he came to get you??" Just then I heard from the back corner of the classroom, "I was afraid you would not come if I told you how bad it was." Well thanks, sir, for your graciousness. You are right. I might have slipped out the side door and gone for latte if I really knew what was going on.

I continued to clean the mess as best as I could all while trying to reach my husband on his cell phone so that he could get the plumbing crew to the 3 year old bathroom. I can hear the page going out over the walkie talkies... "Uh, yes Bill, that's right. A pastor's wife has just flushed some Mr. Incredible underpants down the toilet." I had visions of the whole wing of the building being shut down so the toilet could be removed and the floor dug up to fix the problem. My husband had a class to teach and I knew that I would not be able to reach him after he arrived at his class. I was panicking. I was trying to figure out how to tell the teacher about flushing the underwear. I went into the stall and prayed that God would somehow keep the septic system functioning. I covered my eyes and pushed the handle on the toilet again. No overflow. Thank God. Just then my husband appeared and ask, "Everything okay?" "Come here please," I said anxiously. He came in the classroom and I whispered to him, "I flushed the underwear by accident," He replied, "I will call maintenance after my class." Oh good. I had time to get out of dodge before I had to look someone in the eye and acknowledge my stupidity. I was already very embarrassed to march out of the class with my son who looked like he had been playing in the mud. He stunk. It took me 15 minutes to get him to the point of being able to transport him. I apologized for everything while slipping out of classroom, careful not to make eye contact. "Don't flush the toilet anymore tonight," I said under my breath.

I retrieved my daughter from her class and had to explain why we had to go home. "And mommy swished my underwear down the toilet," my son added. My daughter, of course, began with the questions, "Are we coming back? Why are we leaving? Where is my brother's underwear? What will happen to them? Is the toilet broken? Why do I have to go home?" Yep. Just another ordinary day. Poopy sons and inquisitive daughters.

Talk about eating crow. The moral of the story is: Never brag about how well your child does with anything. They will find a way to make you look like an idiot. And never, ever, ever under any circumstances give your child undiluted apple juice before church.

Yes, I'm still here

Okay, okay. Yes it has been a long time since I have written anything. Life often sneaks up on you! We've had company and a sick little one. It is crazy how quickly time can pass. The time has not just been filled with busyness, but with contemplation.

Just looking at the title of this blog made my mind begin to go, go, go... (By the way, I am going to purchase a new Best Selling book entitled, "Eats, Shoots and Leaves" and it is about the proper use of commas. Many of you grammarians will be relieved I'm sure!) Anyway, back to the title, "Yes, I'm still here." That title could sum up what I have been feeling these last weeks. (This blog is going to turn out being very different from my others, I think...) Do you ever feel like you are still "here." Stuck in a season. Stuck in the mud. Stuck in a valley. Left in the dust. Lost. Forgotten. Unimportant. Worthless. Do those feelings ever come over you like they do me? I wake up feeling like, "Yep. I'm still here. Still where I was when I went to bed last night. Still where I was 3 weeks ago." The title of an old book keeps going through my head, "Have You Felt Like Giving Up Lately?" That would about sum it up for me I think.

When I have feelings like this I become a poor friend. A sub-par mother. A wife that isn't much of a help mate. After concluding this I can say with confidence that these feelings and emotions are not productive. Nevertheless, they are real feelings and they need to be dealt with. It would be nice if we could snap our finger and make them go away. We could just sing "I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart." Most people would agree that sometimes it just isn't quite as cut and dried as we would wish. The day to day grind takes more than a catchy tune and a smile to make it through.

As I look at those words, "Yes, I'm still here" through a depressed mope I saw a different perspective, as though a light went on. What if I looked at those words as though God were speaking them over me? Guess what? He does. Every moment. Every single day. He spoke them very clearly over me the other day as I was praying with a friend. "YES, THE I AM IS STILL HERE." His resurrection power hasn't changed. God isn't hiding. God isn't playing a cruel game of hide and seek or "Let's see if she can find her way out of this one!" God wants us not only to have Him, He wants us to be completely and utterly dependent on Him. You know when that happens best? When we are in the dark valley with no clue, no answers, no help OTHER THAN THE ALMIGHTY, FULL OF POWER, BATTLE WINNING!! GOD.

I read the story of David and Goliath this morning. A couple things stuck out to me that had not ever before. The fact that, "For FORTY DAYS, every morning AND evening, the Philistine champion strutted in front of the Israelite army" (1 Sam 17:16) What? Forty days? I can relate to that. How many days and nights have I let my enemies taunt me? Five days, five weeks? I love what David says...rather what David proclaims, "WHO IS THIS PAGAN PHILISTINE ANYWAY, THAT HE IS ALLOWED TO DEFY THE ARMIES OF THE LIVING GOD?" Today I proclaim with David, "Who are these struggles or circumstances or emotions that I have allowed to defy the army of the living God!!" I proclaim again, "Who are you to defy the army of the living God!!!!" I have visions of myself with my son's three year old sunday school class marching and singing, "We are in the Lord's army!"

David goes on to say, "I'll go fight him." I tell myself as much as I say emphatically to you, we must fight. Will you go and fight? God will arm you if you choose to fight! We don't wage war as the world does. Saul tried to give David his weapons to fight Goliath. But David says, "I'm not used to the[se]" (vs 39). He then tells Goliath, "You come to me with sword, spear and javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of Heaven's Armies - the God of the armies of Isreal, whom you have defied" (vs 45). We must not try to fight our circumstances with anything less than word of God and the Name of the Lord. Verse 47 proclaims, "This is the Lord's battle, and He will give you to us!" One of my favorite descriptions of the Lord is Him as a Warrior. He has won the victory. We have the victory but keeping it is a full time job. Not a job to be completed in our own strength but a battle of keeping ourselves constantly before the Lord and constantly keeping HIS PERSPECTIVE. NOT, "Yes, I'm still here in this dark, lonely valley." BUT "Yes, I AM is still here and I am going to keep running to His open arms." The living God that was and is and is to come is still with me.

Lord, as I begin this day, I pray that I would not have a limited perspective. Help me to see my circumstances for what they are, mere shadows under the feet of a giant God. Help me Lord to exercise my faith in my circumstances. You have given me Your Name and Your Word to proclaim in the battle, help me to use them. I say by faith to my enemies today, "Who are you anyway, that I have allowed you to defy a daughter of the King?" I know who I am in you Lord and I shout it out this morning. I have been bought with a price. Loneliness you must flee. Depression, you have no power over me today. Sadness, you are replaced with the joy of God and the peace that I have in Him. I have the victory today, in Jesus name. I've got the victory. I will stand in victory and I will move through the valley with my Warrior God leading me every step of the way. I am an overcomer and I will enjoy a banquet in the presence of my enemies. I will no longer allow my enemy to taunt me, because I know who I am in I AM!!!! Forgive me Lord for giving up. Giving up is not a choice in this army...because that is when we will be defeated!! "I'll go fight!"

If you have not yet read any excerpts from Streams in the Desert I highly encourage you. It is a great devotional. May you find streams of living water bubbling up in your dry place today!

Temper Tantrums

Oh boy. Temper tantrums are my least favorite thing to deal with as a mother. I have tried every solution that I or any of my peers can think of to bring relief from the nasty things. I so wish that there was a vaccination for temper tantrums. I have even purchased books on the matter including, Making Children Mind Without Losing Yours (Too bad I already lost mine) and Tempering Your Child's Tantrums (My kids are still WILD animals!). I don't know about you but it seems like I read the books and think, "Now that's a great idea, I will have to try that," and then 2 weeks later I find myself searching for the book because the steps just aren't working like they used to. I think to myself, "Surely I must have missed something."

Tantrums are no respecter of children. They hit girls and boys, 5 year olds and 3 year olds alike. I am told that tantrums even rear their ugly heads in teenagers! Good grief. That is exactly what I say when one of my kids begins with one. It is usually when I am in the middle of a grocery store with a cart load of groceries, melting ice cream and lukewarm meat. Of course I have to be on the fullest aisle in the whole store when one of my kids breaks down. I am in a hurry to pay for my groceries and my son is on the floor screaming his head of while I am crouched over him trying to reason with him. Dr. Dobson would surely have some things to say to me! There have been many times where I am tempted to just leave the whole dumb cart on that aisle and take my kids to the car. The drive home would be filled with my tears of frustration and a pit stop to the drive thru Starbucks. Goodness sakes.

My son's most recent tantrum, yes they happen quite often, was prefaced by a frustrating situation that just fueled the fire for both of us. My son is in the last stages, (oh please let it be), of potty training. This has been an extremely trying time for me as my daughter didn't seem to beat around the bush with potty training. My son feels as though he has to pee every 5 minutes. So of course I rush him to the potty because I am sick and tired of scrubbing it out of my carpet. Let's hope the next owners of this house don't have one of those black lights that detect cat pee because there would be a kid pee mosaic to be found. Anyway, I was tired, had a sore throat and my son was sitting on the potty laughing and yes I am sorry to say it, just playing in every aspect of the word. This was the third time in ten minutes he was on the potty demanding that he had to go. I finally got him down and washed his hands. He wanted an M&M for trying. (Maybe that is the answer to the frequency of his urinary urges...M&Ms). I told him to open his mouth because he has already stained my microfiber couch with blue dye from a prior M&M...whoever thought of the slogan 'melts in your mouth not in your hands' needs severe punishment. I put the candy in his mouth and thus began the tantrum. He wanted to put it in his mouth himself. So, he spit out the red M&M and it tumbled down my blouse, all over his shorts and onto the floor. He began crying and I briskly put him down. He continued his scream of, "I wanted to do it." Thank you son, I know that now. The tantrum continued.

I am going to be completely transparent with you. I would like to tell you that I quietly walked away after informing my son that his behavior was inappropriate. Nope. Much to my children's dismay I threw my own tantrum. I stamped in place, screamed, cried and I am embarrassed to say, I even threw the M&M across the kitchen. Talk about a tantrum. I threw the granddaddy of them all. I was a horrible example, a hypocrite and an ungodly mother all in a matter of seconds. I don't know why I thought that it would make me feel better because all it did was give me a headache, more cleanup, a lot of explaining and load of repenting. I cleaned up right away but I hesitated in my confession out of shame. What kind of mother was I?

I am thankful for Romans 3:23 that says, "For everyone has sinned; (mothers included) we all fall short of God's glorious standard." You can say that again. I not only fell short, I missed the target completely. I am thankful that the Lord helped me to get up and go to my kids to talk. I apologized and asked for their forgiveness. Maybe after seeing their mother act like such an ape they will think twice before their next tantrum. I am not sure that any psychologist would buy that story, but if it works I'll write my own tantrum book. :)

Shoe Shopping

Shoe shopping is right up there with teeth pulling in my book. Now shopping for shoes for me is fun and enjoyable. Shopping for kid's shoes, now that's a different story. Both my kids needed new tennis shoes and new sandals. Both kids were getting blisters on their toes and putting on the tennis shoes was requiring more elbow grease than before, so I could not delay the inevitable.

Even when I bring reinforcements, i.e. daddy, shoe shopping is still nothing short of a crazy, gut wrenching experience. Now, on this particular occasion, I had both of the kid's strapped into their double stroller. This stroller has definitely seen better days. Besides the coffee stains, juice stains, cookie crumbs, goldfish remnants, rips, dirt, suntan lotion and overall wear, this thing is in great shape. Well, really it looks like I just picked it up from the local garage sale, but it still serves its purpose in that I can buckle my kids in. This is such a great thing when your kids are able to buckle themselves in but unable to unbuckle! Anyway, I entered the carpeted shoe isle and began the search for the measuring device.

Now, some places have those metal contraptions that measure your kid's feet with relative accuracy. But most places have these old red carpets with foot prints on them. These thing are disgusting in that they are usually so dirty one must get their face within inches in order to make out the sizes. My kids usually think these mats are a great place to sit or lay down much to their mother's demise. But if I can get my child to actually stand and place their foot on the footprint without wiggling or looking around or slouching it is miraculous. I managed to measure my son's foot and then I measured my daughter's. Of course I made the mistake of not strapping my son in again while I worked with my daughter. He was off taking shoes out of boxes, laying on the floor to look under the racks and racing from one end of the aisle to the other as if it were a track. After I had a vague idea of sizes, I instructed my daughter to get in her seat while I chased my son down. You can guess how much my son wanted to be strapped back into his stroller after he had just tasted freedom. After much kicking and screaming I managed to bribe him back into calm serenity (yeah right) for at least the 30 seconds it would take to begin the search for shoes. It is great when daddy is there to give the look when needed. So daddy gave the look and the tantrum stopped momentarily.

As I began to look my daughter shouts, "How about those shoes. I want those. Those are so cute!" She would be referring to the ugliest shoes on the rack of course. Some pink numbers with blue dogs and multicolored ties. "No, mommy wants to find some different ones honey." Then come the tears, "But they are my shoes!" I respond, "Yes, but mommy is paying for them, so she gets to pick." I realize this excuse will only work for a few more years! After finding an acceptable pair the Cinderella scenario begins. This is where I desperately try to fit the shoe on my daughter's foot. Of course the size carpet was no help in determining the proper size for my daughter. It usually happens that one size is too small and one too big and the size that we need the store doesn't carry. My dilemma is always, "Do we buy a shoe that could stretch or one that the foot could grow into?" Most of the time my daughter will not stand for anything less than the perfect fit. Good for her, bad for mommy.

"Let's try to find some shoes for your brother," is my response to the stress of not being able to find a shoe for my daughter. My husband pushes the stroller to the next aisle and I begin the search for cute boy's shoes. I find a great pair and then cringe as I must remove my son from his strapped in state. Of course he cries as I remove his current pair of shoes like he will never see them again. With both my husband and I reassuring my son that trying on shoes will only last a minute, he calms down. I barely get the shoes onto my son when he is running his 50 yard dash again with shoes on his feet that are tied together. Why do they do that? I realize my son is a good reason to tie shoes together in a store because I have seen how quickly he can remove shoes from boxes and place them somewhere else! Before I can warn my son that his shoes are tied together he has done a face plant into the carpet. Tears and screaming commence once again. "I want my old shoes," he cries. Of course, in his mind, the new shoes will always make him trip. He doesn't understand that mommy will cut that dumb piece of elastic off when we get home. Now trying to convince my son to stand up straight so that mommy can feel his toes in his shoes while he is screaming is no easy task. But if I were to wait until the screaming stopped my son would have the shoes off of his feet. I try to get my son to wiggle his toes but I have found that preschoolers don't really grasp this concept. The shoes don't seem to be too big or too small but as any mother knows it isn't until the shoes have been worn 3 times and walked through a mud puddle that we realize the shoes are clearly not the proper size. Ugh. I get my son back into his stroller, correction, I give into my son's tantrum about walking, so that we could end this whole ugly process. I decide that the shoes would do and that we would have to shop elsewhere for my daughter. For what reason, I do not know because it would be much easier to drag out a horrible incident once with daddy as reinforcements instead of repeating it without daddy several times over several days. But, mommy has had enough. So I push the stroller with my daughter and my husband heards my son towards the checkout. Mission sort of accomplished. One pair down, three to go. One child calm, one to go. One parent sane, one to go.

I don't know why shoe shopping is so stressful. I just wish sometimes that feet grew consistently with age and there was only one size for each age. I could pick the cute shoe in my child's size and toss them in the stroller without this whole ordeal of in and out of the stroller, standing up straight so mommy can feel your toe stuff. I never really know what I am feeling for anyway! My life is so full of guessing. As a mom, it seems like I have to guess a lot. A lot of mothering is simply listening to your gut which I would say is listening to the voice of the Holy Spirit.

Proverbs 3:6 says, "Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take." I just attended a class at our church on Wednesday night on hearing from God. The teacher made the comment that if you have prayed about something and you are not hearing clearly from God, do what you think is best and God will correct you if you are not headed in the right direction. As long as I am seeking God and heading in the direction that I feel is the correct one, God is going to get me to the right place. If my children trust me, I can help them find shoes that fits them properly. If we don't truly seek God, however, we end up wandering around with our feet tied together and all scrunched up in shoes that are too small. One of my biggest life challenges is to seek God in everything and then listen when I feel that nudge that I am not where I am suppose to be. Have you ever sensed that, "Nope. Not over there. Come over here." The tough bit is when we think in our limited perspective that the over there is better than the over here. A lot of times we just can't see how the over here will work, until we by faith take steps into what God has prepared for us. Just like my son can't fathom how shoes that are tied together and make him fall will work, we can't seem to see to the other side of what God is bringing us to. God wants us in wide open spaces or in my translation, God has designed us for shoes that fit. He doesn't want us to settle for shoes that are too small or shoes that are all worn out. He has specific plans tailor made for us. So what is it that you feel God is speaking to you? If you aren't sure with all certainty simply begin to make your way towards what you feel is the right direction and God will take it from there! I am thankful for a God who loves us enough to let us make choices. Don't just stand still and do nothing. Take some steps as you seek the Lord and He truly will direct your steps.

I can't

Oh the greatest words in the English vocabulary..."I can't." I usually hear these words when I have told my kids to clean up before we go to bed. For some unknown reason, the mess that seemed to be easy to make is too hard to clean up. I am not quite sure how the toys become heavier between the time my kids play with them and the time when they are to be put away. One of those crazy anomalies. My children usually lose their ability to raise and lower their arms or the ability to bend at the waist when I have proclaimed that it is clean up time. "Wait a minute, you were just running around playing killer dog from Mars and now you can't stand up because your lower back hurts?" Good grief.

But wait. Not so fast. I have found a way to conquer the "I can't" scenario with my kid's toys. I have devised a plan that says the kids pick up the same number of toys as they are old. For example, my 5 year old is to pick up 5 toys before we go to bed. My kids agreed to this scenario and hardly gave me a fight when I informed them of the new rule. Wow. I have this mothering thing down.

Silly me. Kids are clever. My daughter has an uncanny skill of selecting 1 toy that has 5 parts to put away. For example, a puzzle or Mr. Potato head. She will pick up only 5 pieces of the puzzle or only 5 parts to the potato. But guess what? She has done what I proposed that we do. She has listened. Okay, back to the drawing board for me. It is so frustrating because I want my kids to clean up after themselves but it really goes much more quickly and neatly when I just do it for them. But then, I don't want to clean up after them until they are 18. And I don't want to be responsible for their frustrated spouses who don't understand why they don't know how to clean up! Okay, I know. I have taken it a bit too far so...back to the "I can't" scenario.

My daughter has just discovered the monkey bars at the park. She loves to have me watch her as she tries to make her way from one end to the other. I use the word "tries" because she hasn't actually made it all the way across yet. She begins and then ends up saying, "I can't." I then tell her, "You can do it. Try again." Tonight she was particularly down on herself for not being able to do it. The monkey bars are short, but taller than her, and sort of enclosed by other structures. I wanted to get in and help her. I told her to climb out so that mommy could get in with her. I climbed through the opening definitely not designed for mothers and got on my hands and knees in the dirt. I told her to climb up to the start and I would help her. She immediately said, "You're not going to hold my knees are you?" That was my plan so what now? I told her, "Well, no, but I will be right here next to you telling you that you can do it." I would like to tell you that she made it across just because I was there giving her my best hoorah. She did make it further than normal and as she began to fall I caught her. She reached her hands back up and I held her knees so that she could finish making it across. I cheered for her and told her, "You did it, you did it." She smiled and ran across the playground to do something else. I spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out how to get out from under the structure without throwing out my back.

I learned something from my daughter tonight. So many times I have found myself in a situation where I was frustrated because I just couldn't do something. Unlike my daughter, I wanted someone to do it for me. Okay, I will be transparent. There are times as a pastor's wife and mother of a preschooler where I think I just won't make it. I will never make it across because I have fallen so many times. It would be easier to drop to the ground and say "I can't" do it. Someone else will have to step in because I quit. The sad thing is, I have said it more often than not. The enemy has had a field day with me. I knew that my daughter needed some encouragement. She didn't want me to do the monkey bars for her, and I couldn't do it for her. I could show her how to cross the monkey bars, I could cheer her on, but I couldn't make her arms do the work for her. My daughter needed the encouragement to keep practicing. Her arms will continue to grow strong and before she knows it the monkey bars will be old news and the ringers will be what it is all about.

You see, I think some times as Christians we want God to come and rescue us and do the hard stuff for us. We want someone to hold our knees so we can cross over or better yet we want someone else to take our place so we can just go rest. But when we have someone doing the tough stuff for us our arms never get stronger. God so desires that we grow that He will continue to put us in situations that require perseverance. Now don't get me wrong, I believe that God does carry us through tough times, but sometimes He has some teaching to do before He picks us up. Picture again my situation with my daughter. She needed to get the hang of the monkey bars by putting herself out there by faith and after she gained some much needed confidence I was there to grab her before she fell. God is close. I believe that He crouches down in the playground of our lives and cheers us on. He tells us that we can do it and reminds us that He won't leave us. And then as we trust Him and take a step towards Him, He uses His strength to carry us the rest of the way. Philippians 4:13 in the amplified bible says, "I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who infuses inner strength into me; I am self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency]." Oh I love that. "I am self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency." The scripture doesn't say, "I have strength for all things in Christ Who takes over for me so I don't have to do anything difficult." That would be nice, but then we would be lazy weaklings. God wants an army! He is a warrior and he trains His children as such. After all, we are in a war and life really doesn't happen on a playground. I know that sometimes I whine and complain and cry about how difficult things are and how "I can't." God says, "Oh really. Stand on up my child and try it and I will be here directing your steps. I can give you strength, but only if you don't give up before I have a chance to catch you. Now I will strengthen your feeble arms, but you must do the reaching up."

Lord, continue to help me to persevere. There have been so many times of late where I just want to crumble under the trial. I have had a poor attitude about the opportunity to grow and I ask for your forgiveness and grace, God. Thank you that you never give up on me or leave me hanging. Thanks for getting down in the dirt with me and showing me how to make it while you sing over me Your sweet song of love. "I AM sufficient in your sufficiency."

Sweets

I always claimed that I would not be the type of mother who allowed my children to have a lot of sweets. I have now decided that I would not be the type of mother who lets her children eat sweets all day long. Some days are better than others! I have a natural sweet tooth and I guess that gene has been passed along to my kids. I can't really blame them for craving sugar. It is really my fault. I grew up with dessert after every meal. I have heard of kids who crave carrots or who prefer a nice crisp apple to a cookie. I think it is a result of brainwashing. Just kidding, I think I am just jealous!

We have tried to put a healthy spin on treats around here. I buy whole grain cookies and applesauce with no sugar. Unfortunately my kids just don't like the taste. I buy plain old cheerios and end up adding more sugar than if I just let my kids buy chocolate covered cocoa crunch. Which, by the way, I think their grandpa would like for breakfast! I would love it if my kids would enjoy carob chip cookies. However, I can't even stomach carob unless I give myself a half hour pep talk about the benefits of carob and how much better it is for me. Carob, if you have not tried it, is nothing even remotely similar to chocolate. Looks are deceiving. I understand that both cocoa and carob come from beans. But these beans are definitely not from the same tree. I don't think the trees are even in the same forest. Carob has a very distinct flavor and texture. It is said, though, that carob helps ease bacterial diarrhea. You definitely can't say that about chocolate. (ha ha) I bet treats don't sound so great now, do they?

I have found that, like anything else, introducing healthier options to my kids isn't something that causes an instant change in their behavior. I have to keep offering healthier choices. I have also found balance in this. Sometimes a crispy cream doughnut with a glass of milk is a perfectly acceptable dinner. Some of you moms might disagree, but in our house sometimes easy is the way to go. This philosophy stops at the dinner table, though.

I have been so challenged in the last couple weeks and days that 'eating fluff' spiritually really just won't cut it. Opening God's word and reading it like I was reading my kids their bedtime story won't satisfy my appetite for spiritual things. Eating well is difficult at times. During those times, if we give up and start eating what ever we want whenever we want we will feel sluggish and irritable. You can probably guess the implications here. I have grown tired of living on sweets. God has been challenging me to truly seek Him; to stop trying to add sugar to His word to make it easier to take. Somtimes we just need to grow up and swallow the tough stuff. I read Psalm 22:26 this morning and it reads like this in the amplified, "The poor and afflicted shall eat and be satisfied; they shall praise the Lord- they who [diligently] seek for, inquire of and for Him, and require Him [as their greatest need]. May your hearts be quickened now and forever!" Can I say will full assurance that I am diligently seeking Him in my minutes of devotion? Is He my greatest need? The issue here is not the quantity of time we spend, but the quality. I am so thankful that God looks at our hearts. Don't fall into the trap of comparing your quiet time with someone else's. God wants us to focus our attention on Him. Are we feeling satisfied when we come away from our devotions?

I was feeling challenged too about having the mind of Christ. I can't share His thoughts if I am not in constant contact with Him. Oh Lord, forgive my for my spiritual apathy. Forgive me for being lazy and lukewarm. I know that if I am not on top of it spiritually that I lay myself open for the enemy to penetrate. Help me Lord. Help me to reprioritize. Help me to crave meat and not be content with milk. Reinvigorated me Lord. I am desperate for you. I need more of you. Help me not to settle, Lord.

I once heard a pastor preach that if you are not "growing daily you are dying gradually." My daughter sings a cute song that goes like this, "Read your bible and pray everyday and you grow, grow, grow. Don't read your bible and pray everyday then you shrink, shrink shrink." I want to model this for my children. I long to see them delve into God's word and get into His presence with vigor. Not for me, not out of obligation but out of a desperate love for a personal savior. My prayer for them as well as for me is that I would eat for the marathon and not for the 100 yard dash. If I am going to make it, I need the sustenance.

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!