Finding Balm in Gilead

A Summer Memoir (Reader's Digest Condensed Version) - Part I

So many thoughts and vignettes have run through this brain of mine that I made a "mental note" to retell on the 'ole blog......yet those "mental notes" are somewhere lost in the deep recesses of my mind, having never made it onto paper (or rather the computer screen). Yesterday, this post of Antique Mommy's perfectly summed up exactly what has happened in my own little mind world - wonderful anecdotes and little funnies the kids say that I have great intentions of writing down, only I forget to write them down...and thus, those anecdotes are forgotten.

So today, for my own peace of mind and your questionable reading entertainment, I thought I would recap what I can remember about our summer adventures and events, though the specific details and funny comments made by the kiddos or my onery husband might be a little fuzzy.

So without further ado, I shall begin the memoir with an ode to America via this pic of the kids in front of our Memorial Day flag:

I don't know about you, but our nation's flag strikes a chord with me - especially in these uncertain times. Just yesterday, my good friend Shelly was commenting on the latest "politically correct" movement going on Washington and this was the jist of her words, "It feels like our nation has blurred the lines of morals and absolute beliefs to the point that everyone is confused. I get confused. Yet all I know is to keep going back to what God says in His Word. Thank goodness we can still do that."

Amen.

Next up: the Great American Couch Giveaway and Remodeling Extravaganza......

Though clearly this couch is dated and sad-looking, the above pic brings back a flood of fond memories for me. Thankfully, we found a good home for the blue beauty. And people, I have pics coming in the next post of the new chocolate brown masterpiece sitting in my den. I am in love.

One of our main events this summer was to pour a new porch off our den in order to alleviate a leakage problem caused by a rickety old deck built by the previous owners. So, while the inside living areas were being spruced up, our outside living area was getting a makeover as well. However, the cement truck that backed into my yard in order to pour said porch made quite a mess everywhere else. But you should see the yard now - it is LOOKIN' GOOD.

Yet, my attempts at laying a brick border along the porch for my flower beds have fallen WAY short. Apparently, I was supposed to prepare the ground and even it out before burying the bricks in it. Furthermore, I should have made sure there were enough bricks to finish the project before starting it. But that's all about to change, my friends. I've located an ample supply of bricks to finish the job. Since our small town does not have a dedicated brick store, I had to use my wits (i.e. drive around town looking in alleys for unwanted extras lying around - I can't believe I'm even admitting to this) to locate the exact bricks I needed. This would have been a lot more simple had I just driven to Amarillo to Acme Brick and loaded up a pallet, but alas....I didn't need a whole pallet of bricks, and also... I prefer to do as much business locally as I can. It boosts our little small town economy...and helps make our alleys beautiful while introducing myself to the neighbors. Hee hee.

And you'll also be relieved to know that I have hired our handy yard man slash odd job hero to finish the brick-laying job. I know my husband is relieved.

And by the way, my husband is NOT the yard man. ALTHOUGH he could be if he wanted to be. But he doesn't want to be.

Which brings me to this last picture of the day:

This is J's new grill. After years of touting the Big Green Egg's superior cooking abilities (albeit excruciatingly LONG cooking times), one of J's buddies came forth selling the newest MUST HAVE for outdoor grilling -  the GMG wood pellet grill. I have no idea what GMG stands for.

However, it cooks WAY faster than the Green Egg. Furthermore, J cooked SIX racks of ribs for a seed meeting the other night ALL AT THE SAME TIME in four hours. On the Green Egg, this would have taken twnety-four hours because it can only hold two racks per cooking period.

But the Green Egg is not without purpose. It still cooks chicken to tender perfection - better than the wood pellet grill - but it takes forever and ever to heat the grill to the right temp. So, it has found even greater purpose shading a particular section of grass on the right side of our yard ......

People, if I could lift the Green Egg into it's new, improved, and space-efficient metal stand, I would. But I can't. And the hubby is in no hurry to move it since he has fallen in love with the GMG (Good Men's Grub? Great Minds Grillin? Green [Egg] Must Go?)

And so the Green Egg sits. In the yard. Turning the grass underneath it brown. Pining away for the owner who recklessly abandoned it for a newer, faster, and sleeker model.

Tomorrow, I'll show you what else is sitting in our yard that on the contrary has NO LACK OF LOVE, though its purchase usurped my desire and need for the new, stylish, washable, and gorgeous dining room chairs I found in the Ballard Designs catalog.

So I too, like the Green Egg, am pining away over lost love.

Happy Friday, friends.

The World's Best Mom

This is my mama....

 

I know that everyone in the world thinks THEIR mama is the best in the world, but actually.....my mom IS the best in the world.

She's everything you would expect for the world's best mom to be: kind, wise, nurturing, supportive, discerning, very loving, funny, beautiful...the list goes on.

But perhaps the quality that trumps everything else, or rather ENHANCES everything else, is her faith in God. She is the example to my brother and me of what it means to follow God with your whole heart.....through the good AND the bad. 

I remember from a very early age waking up every morning to my mom sitting in her chair by the fireplace, drinking coffee, and reading her Bible. However, when I was 16, my parents began to have visible marital problems, and it was then that I really began to understand the depth of my mom's relationship with God. During that time of upheaval in our family, I watched her continually go to God and the Bible for strength, comfort, and hope.

Her prayer life "took off" at this point in our lives, and I constantly walked in on her - be it the living room, the bedroom, or even her CLOSET...where she would be down on her knees pouring her heart out in prayer.

This unnerved me a bit in the beginning, because our spiritual lives had always been somewhat conservative - we believed, we went to church, we prayed, and we were encouraged to participate in churchy activities and Bible studies. I thought I had this God thing all figured out.

But in my young life, I had never really faced anything that made me desperate to find peace and hope....until my family started to fall apart. In a way, this craziness in our lives was forcing us all to make a decision about who we believed God to be, and whether we had faith in Him -  unrehearsed, vulnerable, "get on your face" faith.

My mom did.

Through all the turmoil, my mom's faith and relationship with God became more real, more alive, and more tangible as I observed her from a distance. I didn't know what to think at first, partly because this was such a new side of her, and partly because I was trying to make sense of the circumstances we were facing as a family.

And partly, I'm sorry to say, because I thought she might be losing it, what with all the praying she was doing.

But then I saw a peace settle over her, even though the marriage was still troubled, and I knew that I wanted what she had.

So I began to try and seek God and His Word like my mom -  seriously, expectantly, and desperately. 

It's the easiest and the hardest thing to do all at the same time. He's still working on me all these years later. There are a lot of things I still don't understand about Him.

Though I do regret that my mom and dad did eventually split up, I DO NOT regret that the situation forced us all to face our need for a real relationship with God.

Of course, I still struggle from the wounds of a broken family. We all do. Our prayers weren't quite answered the way we hoped. But, because of God and who He is, we are ok. That, in itself, is an answered prayer.

I thank the Lord for giving me a mother with "get on your face" faith. It was by watching her that I began to learn who God was....and I am still learning.

By His grace and mercy, I hope to carry on this legacy to my own children.

Thank you Mom. I love you. You are the World's Best.

Happy Birthday.

A Nighttime Tale

"I just don't feel very good."

This is what I heard all through the night last night from Gracie. In fact, I knew that I probably wasn't going to get to have my late night colorfest when she sneezed approximately ten times in a row as we were putting her to bed.

The poor thing has a summer cold. Her nose hurt so much from wiping it that she asked desperately if she could put a bandaid on it.

I told her a bandaid would probably make it worse. She didn't really understand, but at three in the morning, she didn't have it in her to argue - thank goodness.

However, we were up about every two hours when she would suddenly awaken with a sneeze, cry out loud and pitifully, "I need a kleeeeenneexxx!", and then wait for me to come down the hall to her bedside and wipe her nose with the tissue on her nightstand that had been within her arm's reach all along.

It was a fun night.

She also requested me to lay down with her each time we got up to blow her nose, making me wish again that we had a big queen bed in her room instead of two twins....because there is just not enough space for the both of us on her bed.

During one episode while I was in her room, I thought I heard a crash in the living room and maybe even the front door handle turning, which caused me to lay there more tensely than before as I tried to decide what to do. Apparently no one else heard the crash, because as I strained my ears to make sure we didn't have an unwanted visitor, the only thing I could hear was my husband snoring.

Then I remembered that I had forgotten to iron J's pants for the next day, but I certainly didn't want to venture into the laundry room because if we did have an intruder, I would most certainly come face to face with him or her on the way; and my husband was obviously sleeping deeply and wouldn't hear a sound as I confronted the burglars who were burglaring for who knows what since our most valuable possessions at this point in our life are some cool toddler toys, a couple of armoires, some really great books, and a big grand piano that no one would try to move in their right mind, especially in the middle of the night.... and I didn't think anyone would want the "bedsprings". Besides, did I really want to leave my children unattended to go iron some measly pants if there actually was someone in the house? So I just decided to stay put for a little while longer and endure the crick in my neck caused from my six inches of space on Gracie's bed until I was sure that the coast was clear.....

This is what happens to my mental logic when I haven't had enough sleep.

And to add insult to injury, when I escorted J out the door on his way to work early this morning, I told him of my nighttime suspicions of an intruder, and he just looked at me and raised his eyebrows. Then he left.

HE DIDN"T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE MY FEARS.

Which is why he got some sleep last night and I didn't.

Random Happy Fun

When I was teaching, I had a little book called 14,000 Things to be Happy About.Every now and then I would read a few pages to my students during the last few minutes of class. Even my "too cool for school" seniors seemed to enjoy hearing the lists of happy thoughts. I loved watching my students faces as they visualized the random things I read, like "Tilt-a-Whirls at fairs" or "red and green jello" or "hot cocoa on a cold day". I almost think it helped their attitudes improve about life in general. You know - all the teenage angst stuff.

I am probably wrong.

I thought about that book the other day when we were in Alco (having our tea party), and we came across the aisle with all the crayons and markers and watercolors.

Behold.....

 

AHHHH...the delight of opening a NEW box of crayons with the traditional sharpener in back. This is one of my happy things.

My kids have colors and coloring books, of course, but their colors have all been lopped into one big Ziploc bag and are a mess of brokenness, chewedness, and dullness.

This is ok. They are little kids.

Not to mention that when I color with my kids, somehow my page becomes their page, and any attempt at coloring a character's hair just the right shade of brown or gold inevitably turns into a mass of blue or green or bright pink.

Of course, Cash spends a good bit of time tasting every crayon and then breaking it into two or four pieces - a sort of toddler test of the crayon's worthiness....and thus the need for a Ziploc bag.

So, I decided to indulge myself that day at Alco with my very own, undefiled box of 64 crayons. How I got it into the basket and through the checkout without either child noticing is a miracle in itself.

I hid the box along with a forgotten Christmas coloring book in a writing desk in my house. I don't even think the kids know this desk has a storage feature....and we're gonna try and keep it that way.

So when am I going to find time to color by myself, safe from any interruptions?

Last night, at ten o'clock, everyone was asleep. Everyone. IT WAS AN UNPRECEDENTED EVENT. I checked on Gracie and Cash twice just to make sure my eyes and ears weren't deceiving me. Even J was snoring contentedly in our room.

I eagerly grabbed my new colors and Christmas coloring book from the secret hiding place, turned on the TV to reruns of The Cosby Show, and started colorin'.

This is the result of my labors:

 

What fun! And notice that Santa's suit is actually red and not cornflower blue!

I absolutely treasure the things my children create in their own abilities. Their scribbles are so dear to me.

But this "coloringfest" was a depart from the norm....and provided me a time to decompress and just do something that was not on my mental list of nightly duties involving dishrags, brooms, stain removers, or irons.

It's part of my random happy fun list.

Tonight, if I should be so fortunate, I will be coloring this Christmas cupcake:

 

We'll see.

Tea on Aisle Three

We had a tea party in Alco yesterday.

Alco is the small town version of Walmart, sort of like a five and dime store.

I knew I was toast when we took a turn down the aisle holding all the new summer outdoor plastic dinnerware - bright pinks, greens and blues.....everywhere.

So, instead of heading to the diaper department for our "quick" trip into Alco, we were stuck on aisle 3 pouring pretend tea and crunching pretend ice. Our tea parties always have ice.

It's a good thing there weren't any people trying to get down aisle three because they would have had to turn around and forget whatever they were looking for on aisle 3.... or take one for the team and accept a nice cup of pretend tea from two wide-eyed, imaginative little blondies.

The kids had a ball. And I tried my hardest to make sure they didn't mouth the cups while pretend drinking.

You may never buy discount outdoor tableware again after reading this post.

Finally, after drinking pretend tea from eight or fifteen different plastic tumblers, we begrudgingly returned the dishes to the shelves, although I am quite certain they didn't land in their original places.

I'm just glad we got 'em on the shelves.

But alas, our quick trip towards the diaper aisle didn't stop there...Gracie made mention of going to see the toy "ection", which at first I thought she was saying "toy section", but then after repeated attempts at enunciating, I realized that she was saying "toy selection".

"Selection" is quite a sophisticated word for a two year-old....and it was so cute I couldn't help but agree to just go and see the "toy selection".

And so ends any attempt at salvaging our "quick" trip to Alco, the family friendly store for all your needs.

We were there for one whole hour, start to finish.

One hour.

No one spends an hour in Alco.

Except us.

I'll Stick With Showers

I decided to take a bath last night.

Keep in mind that I never take baths anymore - only showers. Showers are a quicker means to an end when all I want to do is go to bed after chasing energetic kids all day.

But, since I knew the kids were exhausted from all the Easter festivities, I decided to try to put them to bed earlier last night....then I could go enjoy a long, peaceful bath by myself and read an actual fiction book that had nothing whatsoever to do with raising kids, being a better wife, or how to manage the family finances.

Oh, I took a bath. Only it wasn't long, it wasn't peaceful, and I really wasn't by myself.

It seems that since it was still light outside, the kids had a bit of trouble going to sleep. Cash was on a crying jag, and Gracie was, as usual, looking for ways to stay up a little later. I know this situation screams all sorts of James Dobson intervention, but, as you recall, I was planning on reading fiction last night.

As soon as I started the bath water, the kids knew something different was going on. They were eating ice with their daddy on our bed when I decided to sneak in the bathroom and start what I hoped would be at least thirty minutes of solace.

Solace it was not.

Intrigued by the fact that the water sounded different than usual as it filled up the bathtub, Gracie and Cash showed up to investigate. Cash began to cry as I got in the tub - I think it scared him that I was doing something different from the norm.

Gracie began to ask questions. " Are you not going to take a shower?' "Are you going to put bubbles in?" "Are you going to wash your hair?"

To the last question I responded, "No, I am not going to wash my hair in the bathtub like you because I don't have a cup in here....I am going to wash it with the showerhead as soon as I am done in the tub."

Wrong thing to say.

Gracie immediately decided that she was the answer to my hair dilemma. " Oh, mommy, I can wash it for you. I really think I can. I'll go get a cup."

With Cash grieving the change in routine and Gracie racing to get a cup from the other bathroom, I knew then that my dreams of a relaxing, quiet moment of peace were completely over.

To be fair, J did try to help me by corralling both of them on the bed while I took a bath, but Cash just kept wailing louder, and Gracie kept shouting, " Hey Mom, are you ready to wash your hair?"

She repeated this question, no kidding, about every five seconds.

Finally, I relented, and called her into the bathroom. She actually did an ok job for a two year old. She also repeated everything I've ever said to her during her own bathtime ritual, imitating my voice tone and actions perfectly. It was very interesting.

Granted, I did rinse out my hair quite a bit more with the showerhead when she was done.

Meanwhile, Cash was just glad I was out of the bathtub and in one piece.

Furthermore, I only got to read the two-page prologue of my book, and I'm still not sure what I read amidst all the wailing and shouting. I'm sure most of you are thinking that maybe I am not ready for fiction, and still need to read a few more books on parenting instead .....

But....I am a woman who likes to live on the edge.

Besides, in what is probably an act of divine providence,  I just happened to watch James Robison's show this morning, and he was interviewing another great parenting expert - Kevin Leman - about one of his new parenting books.

I've already ordered it.

A List

I am trying to head off what I think is the beginning of a sinus infection so I have filled myself full of vitamin C and A...among other remedies. I don't like to take pharmaceuticals, but after the way I felt last night, I gladly accepted the decongestant my husband so graciously offered me from his office stash.

Anyway, I thought I'd do a list today to commemorate Monday's experiences in Amarillo, and thus save myself from having to write connecting paragraphs with coherent explanations:

1. Never enter a department store (like Dillard's) assuming you can run in with your two toddlers WITHOUT THE STROLLER, buy your foundation, and walk right back out. It has never happened that way, and never will.

2. NEVER try to navigate the downward escalator holding the hands of two toddlers...ALWAYS BRING THE STROLLER and use the elevator.

3. ALWAYS assume that your potty trained toddler will have to go to the bathroom the minute you walk in a department store, thus requiring you to go upstairs in the first place.  THIS IS WHY YOU ALWAYS BRING THE STROLLER.

4. NEVER assume that the makeup counter lady will immediately be able to find your card, grab your shade of foundation and ring you up in less than five minutes. It has never happened that way, and never will.

5.FURTHERMORE, always assume that your toddlers WILL NOT stay beside you the entire time you are standing at the makeup counter, WHICH IS WHY YOU ALWAYS BRING THE STROLLER.

6. ALWAYS assume the racks of clothing lining the aisles will be the ideal hiding places for your toddler children, WHICH IS, AGAIN, WHY YOU ALWAYS BRING THE STROLLER.

7. NEVER think you'll be able to adequately browse the latest summer shoe styles after your 5+ minute makeup purchase with your two toddlers, because your two toddlers will always want to try on the display shoes, WHICH IS WHY YOU ALWAYS BRING THE STROLLER.

8. DON'T even entertain the thought that you might be able to make a foray into the mall to the Gymboree store after your "quick" makeup purchase....it cannot and should not happen, ESPECIALLY WITHOUT THE STROLLER.

9.  NEVER assume that you can leave the department store, head over to Target, and have a sane shopping experience with two tired toddlers, EVEN IN A BASKET AND NOT IN A STROLLER.

And finally, after reflecting on all of the above....

10. DESPITE the frustrations, aggravations, and limitations of all the shopping chaos with two toddlers.....SAVOR IT WITH OR WITHOUT THE STROLLER.

I have never been more aware that this stage of my children is going by way too fast. It won't be long before WE PUT UP THE STROLLER FOR GOOD.

It has always been that way, and always will.

It's time for the grocery store to be done with the Easter displays

At this moment, it is quite possible that I will never take the kids with me to grocery store again.

My kids are generally well- behaved. Except today.

I can't talk about it yet - I'm still trying to regain my composure.

The one redeeming factor in all of this: after I gave both kids a shaky-voiced "don't act like that ever again - do you understand me?" talk out in the car following the grocery store chaos, Gracie softly said a few minutes later on the way home, "Mom....I do understand you."

Good.

The end.

Sacred Hands

Nothing is "sacred" anymore in my house.

Any glass of water in my hand is fair game for four little ice-lovin', cold water immersin' , sling it all over the floor hands.

Ingredient-filled mixing bowls must be investigated by four questionably clean hands who like to dig and taste-test the goods. (Try to forget about that if you ever are invited over for dinner at our house.)

It doesn't matter where I store utensils in the kitchen, because they like to move around.....colanders usually end up on someone's head, and  whisks are usually playing the drums on the colander that is on top of someone's head. Measuring spoons can be found in Gracie's baby stroller, and just the other day I found my cooling rack grill being used as some sort of bed for the baby doll( of course the baby was  on a blanket because the grill was "hot").

Gracie's supersonic hearing usually picks up on the clink of my nightly cup of lemon zinger tea AFTER she's been put to bed. Immediately she is out of bed, down the hall, and there to help me finish drinking the tea ....and vying to get every last drop of honey in the bottom.

I can't even begin to tell you about my makeup drawer.

Stool + bathroom sink + soap pump + water + drain stopper = time to change clothes and mop bathroom.

Any keys remotely important must be placed VERY HIGH.

Pillar candles have little indentations on them - I believe you would call that teethmarks.

I can't tell you how many times someone secretly set my alarm for 4 a.m.

Gracie is now strong enough to open the refrigerator. Cash thinks it's great.

Tonight, we were having brownies for dessert at the dinner table and Gracie grabbed my glass, took a big gulp of water, and then set it down casually saying,"Mom, I left some brownie in there for you."

The other day, they both got into my unmentionables drawer, and came out with my underwear on their heads.

I am ALWAYS accompanied to the bathroom where I am handed toilet paper, assisted in flushing, and asked if I get a quarter from Daddy for going potty.

The list goes on......

I know that none of this is new to any mother of young children. Many of these stories are pretty darling and create picture-taking moments. However, it seems that the more "sacred" and unbothered I try to keep something in the house, the more of a target it becomes. (Of course, I do enforce safety without apology and I watch my kids closely - I'm not here passing out matches...)

Anyway, in the midst of all the amusement, I certainly get frustrated sometimes when I can't find my spatulas, I can't drink a glass of tea in peace, and for pete's sake, can I not go to the bathroom without an audience just one time????

A few days ago, I opened my scripture journal that I keep with my Bible next to the couch. In this little 3x5 spiral, I write mainly scriptures that speak to me as I come across them in study or prayer.  I started this scripture journal back in 2004, when Jason and I were deep in our struggle with infertility, and I was almost hopeless. Most of the scriptures I wrote down during that time had to do with trials, perseverance, and faith. And...I'll have to be honest and say that I haven't added much to it since Gracie was born in August of 2006. However, I still read through it often.

Unsurprisingly, when I opened this journal the other day, I found that Gracie and Cash had colored all over my spiral that was "just their size."

While at first I wanted to be frustrated that yet another thing had been tampered with by my children, I humbly realized that there are now answers to those scripture prayers written on each card.

The coloring marks.

In my very challenged faith four years ago, I had all but decided that He didn't hear and He didn't care about my prayers concerning my womb.

But He did hear. He did care. And He answered.

I can still read the scriptures on each card despite the magenta and forest green coloring that marks each page. But now, the added treasure is how these coloring marks symbolize what God did for us in  our despair.

And it reminds me of what He is able to do in the midst of things that are challenging my faith right now....particularly in regards to the family of my childhood.

So, though this spiral joins the list of things "captured and claimed" in my house, few things are more sacred than these scripture prayers of perseverance and faith marked up by the very hands God created in answer to my cries.

Sacred indeed.

Now, if I could just find my spatulas.

A Mess to be Thankful For

Today, Cash threw a wall-eyed fit when I put him down for a nap. I'd like to blame it on Daylight Savings Time, but I think he's just plain stubborn.

Anyway, I let him cry for awhile today because I was determined to break this stubborn streak in him, and also try to accomplish a few housekeeping tasks while the kids were asleep. But finally, after twenty minutes of non-stop crying and this growl thing he does when he's mad, I couldn't take it anymore. Frustrated, I went to his room, spoke some firm words to him as I lifted him out of the crib, and then sat down to rock him. 

While sitting there rocking and lamenting the fact that I had a million things to do and this was not one of them, I became more frustrated as I noticed the puzzle pieces on the floor, the crayon that had rolled under his crib along with one of his racecars, and the unbelievable amount of dust bunnies lurking in every corner of the room. Somehow, a few pieces of oat square cereal had made it into the toy box, and I spotted one of his socks rolled up in a ball and stuffed in one of Gracie's play kitchen bowls on the floor. "Will the mess ever stop?" I thought to myself.

Then suddenly my heart changed.Yes, someday, the mess will stop. And the kids will be grown and gone. And I'll realize the mess really wasn't such a big deal. 

It seems I always reach an epiphany of sorts when I have to be quiet and do something that wasn't planned...in this case, rock my precious baby who won't be a baby much longer. I think God has something to do with these moments.

I KNOW He has something to do with these moments.

Nearly four years ago, J and I had almost lost hope. We wondered if our dreams for children were just that...dreams. We had visited doctors and gone through all sorts of tests, and the experts were just sure they could help us get that child....but to no avail. Nothing worked. We finally...reluctantly...released it all to God and asked, "What is Your will?"

As if on cue, God answered....more quickly than we expected. 

Nine months later, Gracie arrived.

Fifteen months after that, Cash made his entrance.

And the mess that constantly follows these two miracles? It's part of the package. It's a symbol of answered prayer. It's a reminder of what God has done for us.

I'm going to be thankful for the mess.