Finding Balm in Gilead

On returning....

Suffice it to say, I've taken quite a break from this blog, and I am sorry about it. Won't mean anything to anyone but me, but I have missed it and known that God was nudging me to come back and continue to write.....but I blatantly disobeyed and didn't. I found excuses and got distracted and just generally have beat around the bush...why I don't know. Fear maybe? Fear of not having anything to say worth posting? Fear of getting it wrong....not being up enough on what's going on in this world...not being savvy enough to keep up with the constant onslaught of information out there....fear of looking stupid, silly, ....weird.

But I just looked back at several of my posts years ago, and giggled through a story about the kids that I had COMPLETELY forgotten about....and I realize.....

I miss this. I miss the creativity. I miss recording these things in my family. I miss this facet of my life.

Who cares if I have no idea what I'm talking about? Who cares if the only person who reads this is me...

I'm not too busy to write. It gives me great joy. It releases something in me...something pent up and longing to get out and have a voice....to reflect on this life and these kids and all that is going on in and around me.

That's all. I am pledging to return to this. All of it.

Thank you God for being relentless.

The IPAD is Down. Repeat, the IPAD is down.

In an interesting turn of events, due to the 3013th drop on the floor, the kids' IPAD full of games and also the home of my Facebook app is DOWN.

DOWN..... DONE..... KAPUT.

And I am strangely relieved.

Yes, I have another personal ipad. Jason has a personal ipad. We have a laptop. We have Iphones. We are awash with technology over here.

But the kids Ipad was the one reserved for games and it was the one on which I checked my Facebook app. It was greasy, and grimy, and gross. But it was strong as an ox and seemed to have nine lives.

Until this weekend. I guess a tenth life was asking too much for this workhorse.

And so we are faced with a conundrum: load the Madden 25 and Angry Birds games on one of our other ipads? Buy a NEW "kids only" ipad? Load the facebook app onto my own personal ipad?

None of the above for now. I am enjoying the added reinforcement of the "out of commission Ipad" to further emphasize why Cash needs to go outside. Or go play with Legos. Or go make a volcano.

Yes, you better believe I emphasized all those things before, but the "working" ipad was always in the back of his mind and probably mine, and he/we knew that it would be there later.

And Facebook is so much easier to check for me when you have the app to just click on versus the whole login and password thing. It takes a whopping extra 15 seconds to login and find out who just took out the garbage when you don't have the app.

So we are going to revel in old-fashioned living where our brains aren't connected to anything except our bodies, and we will build and create without a care to Madden and his computer generated touchdowns, and we're not going to find out who's upset with the establishment and what opinion they've got to post about it on Facebook.

Oh I know it is still there. I can connect any time. I can download those Angry Birds at a moment's notice.

But it's just a little less readily available than it was before.

So I'm going to promote laziness just this one time.

And be connected to this life in a whole different .....and better way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Don't Want to Go Back

 I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. About once every two or three weeks I make a new vow to myself that I will not scroll through Facebook ever again - particularly before bed - because of the abnormal amount of alarming, negative posts on the state of the world today, and the state of our country, and the state of families, and the state of the lives of people I once knew but haven't seen in well over twenty years.

However, there are just as many heartwarming and inspiring stories on FB that I love getting to see, particularly those of people I was close to once upon a time who are now experiencing milestones...or breakthrough...or victory in their lives. I love that. I get it. It  makes me glad to know.

I'm obviously a conflicted facebook user.

But, I was caught off guard by the memories stirred up inside me this week when I opened my Facebook early Monday morning while enjoying my last cup of coffee (ok yes, sometimes I scroll through FB at the beginning of the day, too) and found several posts on this: Hell Week, people.

The jillion year-old rivalry between Amarillo High and Tascosa is on again - and it always will be - and it culminates this Friday night at the ballgame.

I live in Dalhart. And I am so glad this week that I don't live on Danbury Street anymore in Amarillo.

But I have stumbled upon a few funny Facebook posts by people from the past who are back in Amarillo, and they are getting to experience again all the wonderfulness....and eggs.... that hell week has to offer.

I can not stop chuckling.

Interestingly, these Facebook posts regarding hell week have me not so much thinking about the rivalry itself, but have reminded me most of my high school days in general.... when I had my whole life ahead of me, so to speak, and my biggest worry was whether my bangs would hold up under the extreme weight of the Aussie sprunch hairspray.

And oddly enough, my children have also coincidentally been asking me this week to tell them bedtime stories of when I was young, and so, much to my six year-old son's delight, I have had a chance to tell him about the "heck" weeks between AHS and THS....and that time my senior year that our guys got to play at Texas Stadium in the state quarterfinals. Being a Cowboy fan, he was very impressed.

I also mentioned to him that time I ran the mile relay at the UT stadium; however,the significance of it was totally lost on him the minute I said UT. (His daddy is a Tech grad.)

And then, my kids have cackled at the story of that time I put a hole in my neighbor's fence with my car. And didn't tell anyone about it. Until my mom got a call from the neighbor.

That story is a good lesson on not being a complete moron.

I will admit: I have a slight wistfulness for those carefree days, when my lungs and legs could sprint the quarter mile without needing an oxygen tank and a stretcher....and my parents' weren't divorced yet....and my dad was giving me driving lectures on how to coast through the alley to our garage instead of gunning the motor.

While those teenage years were a breezy time when my biggest stressor was studying for the dreaded Humanities practicum test, or trying to figure out how to get my butt out of advanced pre-calculus (good grief),  it was also a period of great insecurity and angst amid that rose-colored, carefree life.

Truly, there are some memories back then of my immaturity and lack of just general common sense that I prefer not to recall. I wince at some of the things I said and at some of the ways I acted.

So, while I can nostalgically look back at the days of lunchtime runs to Taco Villa, and road trips to all the games of all the sports, and the dances and the parties and the fun fun fun, I can quite frankly and thankfully say right here and now........

I don't want to go back.

I'm looking at you 1991. You were great and fabulous with your Bryan Adams, and R.E.M. and the big hair and all the denim, but you've got nothing on this:

 

Each year gets better. I happen to really love 2014 right now, along with this man:

He conveniently left his T-bird jacket at home last year. Or maybe the ninja confiscated it. At any rate, God has blessed me.

Good luck Sandies. Beat the hell out of Tascosa.

Someday you won't want to go back either.

 

 

 

 

The World's Best Mom

Edited heavily for Mother's Day 2014.

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. This was always the norm. However, when I was 16, my parents began to have visible marital problems, and it was then that I really began to learn and 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. It was a comfortable existence where I thought I had this God thing all figured out. But, mine was a surface kind of belief.... the kind that is expected and socially acceptable. And yet, I was only 16. My belief was probably as real as I knew how to believe at the time, however lukewarm it may seem to me now. But all that changed my sophomore year of high school.

In my young life, I had never had to really face anything that made me desperate to find peace and hope - and where God was in all of it - until my family started to fall apart. In a way, this chaos 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 -  an 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. She was praying all the time - in the car, in the shower, in the kitchen - and OUT LOUD, I might add. I can see now that all those early years of awakening to find her reading the Bible had laid the groundwork for her ability to dig deep spiritually for a supernatural way to cope with her marital crisis during my teenage years. But back then, I didn't know what to think, partly because this was such a new side of her, and partly because I was an ugly mess just 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, and a calm resolve and fortitude formed in her countenance....and even though the marriage was still troubled,  I knew that I wanted what she had found.

So began for me what really has become a lifelong quest to try and seek God and His Word like my mom -  seriously, expectantly, and resolutely. 

It is the easiest and the hardest thing to do... this authentic and vulnerable relationship with God. At times I think I'm pretty good at it....which, laughably, is usually when I'm not. But all these years later, I am humbled by the grace and mercy God has shown me in the face of my proud and sinful and willful nature. And love...He has shown me lots of love....in the most unexpected ways,too.

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....and that,folks, is what the abundant life is all about. Regardless of the circumstances, this journey with God has been just pretty unbelievable. And I say "unbelievable" in the most positive sense.

Though some of our prayers weren't quite answered the way we hoped, because of God and who He is, we are better. Broken, yes. But beautifully becoming whole in God. All four of us. That, in itself, is one big answered prayer that I know my mom prayed diligently for us as a family, and is still praying  today.

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 how He loves me.

And how He loves all of us. ( Cue the David Crowder song):-)

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 Mother's Day and Happy Birthday this week!

The Trophy

This past spring marked Cash's first foray into organized sports. He was officially old enough to play T-ball this year and let me tell you, he was all over it. His sister Gracie also played T-ball for the first time this year, too, but she was more into the fact that they got to wear purple zebra socks and ribbons in their hair while calling themselves the Purple Sparkle team.

Cash's group never did name themselves, which really bothered Gracie.

Anyway, while my girl was busy making sure she had all her matching accessories in place to play ball, my boy was intense about putting on his game face, to the point of constantly wanting to practice catching grounders in the front yard, and, of course, working on perfecting his "slide" into home base.

It was a study in contrasts, I tell you, between the boy and the girl.

Gracie decided after the first two games that this would be the first and the last season she would play T-ball. Funnily enough, she's pretty good. Her long legs send her flying around those bases, and she's a strong hitter, too, for someone who's not that interested in the sport.

Her brother, on the other hand, is already planning his professional career. He was one of the smallest on his team this year of 4-6 year olds, but he had one of the biggest hearts. In fact, if I let him, he would wear his T-ball shirt every day of the week. He took everything about the game very seriously, and tried to coach Gracie on how to be ready for the ball....only to find that she really wasn't too concerned about the ball as long as it didn't affect the position of her purple visor on top of her head.

One thing they could agree on together were the free popsicles for ballplayers at the concession stand after the game.

But last night solidified the significance of what T-ball meant for Cash this year. We missed the trophy presentation a few weeks ago, and so his coach dropped off his trophy and team pictures last night while the kids were taking a bath. When I told Cash that he had a pictures waiting for him on the dining room table after he got dried off, I never dreamed that the trophy - this little acrylic thing with cool lettering, and it's not even pretend gold like the trophies of my day - would be the thing that sent Cash over the edge into sports blissdom.

Oh my word. He carried that thing around for the rest of the evening. While I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I heard Cash outside the door asking his daddy, "Where's Mom?" Then he came in the bathroom, let out a contented sigh, and looked up at me with this silly grin on his face while holding up his trophy for me to see again. I asked him, "Are you proud of your trophy, bud?" He just giggled and looked at it in his hand and said "Yeah," while turning and walking out the door.

Be still my heart. This is life.

My husband then informed me that while I was in the shower, Cash crawled up on the bed with him and spread out all his T-ball pictures so that Jason could scrutinize each one, even though they were ALL the same pose.

I guess it further stands to reason that after watching Gracie get to be in some organized activities over the past year while Cash still had to wait a while, this first season of T-ball marked the beginning of his official passage from toddlerhood into boyhood.....and into having something of his own to be involved in.

In fact, I heard him tell Gracie this over a glass of milk before bed: "Gracie - I have my trophy, but you don't have yours yet....when do you think you'll get yours?" The boy has something that his older school-age sister did not get before him.

To which she replied nonchalantly while reading a Berenstain Bears book, "Oh, I'll get it sometime." She didn't even look up.

Needless to say, Cash took the trophy to bed with him and positioned it to face him on the nightstand.

There will be many more team trophies and certificates and the like over the coming years, but this trophy...with it's acrylic base and not-even-pretend goldness...will be among the keepsakes I will treasure long after they've moved out and started their own families. I'll place it in my box of memorabilia right next to Gracie's "purple sparkle" zebra socks to remind me of my children's first year of T-ball ....and the differences between this boy and girl born only fifteen months apart.

Be still my heart. This is the life. 

 

Today

Today the kids are at school and Ms.Luann's respectively, and I am alone to work on taxes, make lists, clean house, and write. The taxes thing is a big huge looming cloud over my head since I have no natural comprehension in this matter. The lists are made, but rarely ever are they completely crossed off. The toilets are in need of a good wipe down/scrub, and last night I discovered a hoard - a HOARD, I tell you - of ants milling about under the chip basket on the kitchen counter.

I drew a chalk line early this morning, because somewhere I heard that ants don't like to cross chalk lines.

But from further inspection several hours later, they seem to like to go around it.

Finally, the writing is what I want to do. I have come to this blog many times in the last two months since my last post - January 11th - but couldn't get the words down. I've been so deep in Dalhart history that the time I do have - which is arguably not much - I spend on working on those articles for the paper. I've whined about this before- no use going into it again - but it seems once one is out of the practice of blogging, it is hard to get back to it.

But it isn't for the lack of material. Material for the blog abounds in this house.

Today, though, I am contemplative. New seasons have begun in our home, not the least of which is this season of my children's growth from toddlerhood to full-blown school-age childhood. This season is going all too fast, and I find myself today taking stock of all that we...I....have been involved in lately, and I feel like some cuts need to be made.

Furthermore, two posts on the Lots of Scotts blog really have me thinking today too, particularly the post about Pits - and how we get into them. I am quietly wondering about some pits in my own life that may not look like pits right now, but very well could be quicksand in the near future if I don't put the brakes on the circumstances leading me in this direction.

The Purposeful vs. Perfect Parenting post has me thinking too - really it's all hitting me between the eyes today. If there are any readers left on this ole' blog, head over to Lots of Scotts and check out her posts:

www.lotsofscotts.blogspot.com

You are going to have to scroll down some to get to these two posts. Not far though.

Have a good day! I'm off to make sense of tax.

 

Thoughts Galore

So now that I've vented my concerns over Angry Birds, I want to express my desire and hopes for an I-PAD in the near future.

So that we can play Angry Birds on a big screen.

Anyway, I am sitting here with the little boy watching The Adventures of Chuck and Friends while I try to overcome my writer's block concerning an article for the newspaper this week. My research and timeline for interviews has not panned out this week, and frankly, I'm at a loss as to where to begin in this new year.

Not that there isn't plenty of history here in 'ole Dalhart to write about.....it's just that I seem to have a mental block as to where to begin my research. I'm finding it hard to get back in the groove after more than a month off from the newspaper writing.

In other news, I had grand plans to go to the gym early this morn, but I forgot to set my alarm. I'm obviously extremely dedicated to exercise.

Jason hired our kids to pick up nails, screws, and other paraphrenalia from around his new seed barn that is just now finally completed, and so yesterday afternoon, we trekked around the perimeter of the place with our grocery sacks looking for all sorts of "treasure", if you will. J told the kids he'd pay them a quarter per nail or screw, but I didn't think that he bargained for their extreme diligence and perseverance in this task as they both gathered quite a few nails that will add up to a nice little payday. As Gracie said when we got back into the car, "Mom - this was a good thing for us!"

I treated them to a lemonade at Sonic, but apparently all their scavenger hunting left them ravenous, so we ordered a grilled cheese too. They scarfed it down while discussing their plans for all the money they were going to make from this project. Plans that involve a trip to Toys R Us.

I think I'd like to be in on this little project - there are several things I've had my eye on at say, oh I don't know, Pottery Barn? Restoration Hardware? Texas Furniture?

But I want a dollar per nail.

 

 

Did George Orwell own a slingshot?

My husband is addicted. He is bent on cracking every level ever created in the Angry Birds game app on his I-phone. I thought he was done when last week he announced that he had finally done it - cracked every level - but then.....come to find out, it's neverending.

Furthermore, there's holiday-themed angry birds, too. Did you that there were about a jillion downloads of angry birds on Christmas Day?

I'd say that's fairly indicative of the family dynamics going on in our world today.

The addiction has not gone unnoticed by my four year-old son, who also likes to play a round or thirty of angry birds on Daddy's phone. At least I can monitor and control this little boy's game playing.....but as for the big boy, I'm at a loss.

And to add insult to injury, the kids and I were shopping in Target last week, and DID YOU KNOW that there are angry bird pillow pet-type stuffed animals for sale? Are you kidding me?

And if that's not enough, we were driving down a street in Amarillo THAT SAME DAY when we passed a costume shop and can you guess what was hanging in the window?

Angry Bird costumes, my friends.

Back in my teaching days, I taught a book written in 1948 by George Orwell titled Nineteen Eighty-Four. It was essentially his theory on what the world will look like in 1984...totalitarian government, thought police, and a society based on propaganda and rewritten history from the government. The slogan of the world, and basically the theme of the book, was "Big Brother is watching you."

I've thought often in recent years that our society has, in fact, become somewhat like this world George Orwell put forth in that book written so long ago. With this new digital age that we live in with our tv's, computers, and I-phones, it does seem that there are overtones of "Big Brother" in huge ways.

I'm just sayin'.

But never, EVER did I think that a game app of blinking birds soaring through the air with destruction on their mind would infiltrate and single-handedly cause the hiatus of anything productive in the time management category, not to mention the decline of human communication and critical thinking as we know it. Even the world wide web is no match for an angry bird.

FOR INSTANCE.....

Internet surfing - yes this is a time stealer and definitely takes away from that personal communication theme, though some of my best research, creative ideas and shopping coux's come this way - without the help of a half-hearted clerk.

Facebook - a massive time waster concerning some of life's most trivial issues(for the most part). And yet it reels you in by the notion that you might miss out on some important information about a past acquaintance, like (for instance) the fact that they just washed their hair....

Texting - Though devoid of correct grammar usage and collectively aiding in the extinction of a properly composed sentence, the nature of a text's brevity still helps navigate those conversations that we don't have time to have BECAUSE.........

We're busy playing Angry Birds on the I-phone.

George Orwell thought that Big Brother and the thought police would be the overlying cause of the demise of society, but what he didn't know at that time was that his Big Brother concept...

is really just an Angry Bird.

Who needs the thought police when you have a bird and a slingshot to occupy your time?

Now excuse me, I hear there is a valentine exploding hearts edition of Angry Birds that I need to check out.

Well-played, Big Brother, well-played.

Happy New Year 2012

Though I haven't posted in a while, I am still here...and planning to do better in 2012. I miss writing here, though I love researching and interviewing people in our little town for the newspaper.

There's much to write about here on the 'ole blog, though, and I'd like to say that I promise to give an account of the last few months....but who am I kidding - THAT MAY NOT HAPPEN, people.

Life is passing by quickly, y'all, and these kiddos are growing up minute by minute.....and I am filled with joy. Just in the last month we went from school programs....(pardon the atrocity of my photography skills)

to a little bit of snow....

to getting ready for Christmas....

to cruising the western Caribbean....

and back to a major blizzard at home in Dalhart just before Christmas....

Whew - I haven't even arrived at the Christmas pics yet.

More pictures to come....and more memories to make.

2012 will be even better. Happy New Year!

And November is Over....

Good grief - the time has flown. The end of October throughout November has been a whirlwind of activity, not the least of which being Cash's birthday, an open house for J's business, and Thanksgiving no less.

I will not talk about the stomach bug I contracted on Thanksgiving Day.

Anyway, here it is December 7th, and I haven't posted in two months, though there are so many things that have been on my heart and mind. But this is what is most on my mind.....

They "camped" in Gracie's room one night recently.

This is such a fun age.

Good Times here at the Balm in Gilead house.

More to come later......