Things don't always go as planned...

No, this isn't my basement...exactly...

Oh what a day. If you’re on fb you’ve heard me griping about it already.

I didn’t go to the gym this morning. I slept in. This is ALWAYS a mistake.

When I skip the gym, I sleep beyond what I really should and when I do finally pull myself out of bed, I feel sluggish and annoyed. And I always end up running late from the get-go. That’s what this morning was like…with one additional caveat.

I told the kids they had to help me make their own lunches this morning. Michael went to the basement to grab two juice boxes and announces that the basement is flooded.

Great.

Perfect.

I love it when that happens.

Especially when I know there are 10 boxes of unopened cereal sitting in the middle of what is now Conrow Pond.

Why do these things happen? It barely even rained last night. What caused the basement to flood (again) and why on this morning when I’m already not feeling it. And why can’t we just get it taken care of so this stops happening? And why is the basement such a mess to begin with? And why did there have to be a bag of clothes that also ended up in the pond? And why is Paul already gone for work and this mess is now mine to clean up?

And that was my morning… which turned into my afternoon because sometimes it’s tough to shake a funk.

In addition to the stinky morning, for the last few days, I have been complaining about the weather. I know… shoot me now. It’s been so beautiful out and I love it. But I’m kinda’ missing the snow. I like the winder wonderland leading up to Christmas. It’s okay with me when it snows in December and January… it’s when there are storms in March and April that things get annoying.

In anticipation of Christmas, I need some sparkly white.

I haven’t felt like making Christmas cookies when it’s 60 degrees out. I haven’t pulled out my snowman dishes because there simply isn’t snow. It doesn’t feel like Christmas. This isn’t how I planned it.

Kinda’ like how this isn’t how I planned my morning to go either.

And then I thought of Mary, giving birth in a stable. That wasn’t exactly how she planned it. I’m guessing that when she had to travel to Bethlehem nine months pregnant, she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea.

And when she arrived there and found out that Joseph didn’t make a reservation at a hotel, she probably had choice words for him, too.

We think that she was serene and calm and humble… but really, she was human.

When she found out she would be staying in a stable, I think there’s a good chance she did some boo-hoo crying. I think she sat there looking at the innkeeper thinking, “This wasn’t how I planned it. In fact, I didn’t even ask for this birth. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Joseph and I were supposed to be married. We were supposed to have this baby at a time that was convenient for us. We were supposed to have a HOTEL ROOM.”

I know I’m probably guilty of heresy for saying that. But the Angel words were simply, “Do not be afraid, Mary. God is very pleased with you. You will become pregnant and give birth to a son. You must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High God…” He never said anything about hay…and cows…and traveling on a donkey at 9 months! Ugh. The thought of it. And to think that I was complaining about putting sheets on my kids beds at 6 months pregnant!

 Things didn’t go as Mary might have planned them.

It seems like this year, for a lot of us, things didn’t go as planned. Things aren’t unfolding as they were “supposed to”. We have lost loved ones…lost jobs…and at times, lost our faith in God and in each other. Christmas may not feel like Christmas right now…not just because we are missing the snow…but because things aren’t how we planned them.

Mary had to trust and know that even if this wasn’t her plan, that something good would come out of it. And even though my morning has been one huge funk, I am going to believe that it isn’t too late for something good to come from it, either.

If you’re going through a tough time right now… and I know some of you truly are… I pray that you can find a way to see Jesus this season. He came to earth because He loves us. He loves you.  He loves YOU. He knows your pain and your hurt and your disappointment… and he wants to carry you though it this season.

So throw your arms around someone you love. Find a way to bring joy to someone else’s life. Ask God to show you the good in what seems like hopelessness and know that it’s okay to feel joy in the darkness. It’s Christmas, people! Even if there is no snow…and the basement is flooded.

Happy birthday to YOU!

One hour from now is my 35^th birthday. The past several days I’ve been thinking that every blogger needs a good birthday blog. But I don’t know what to share or what funny story would be worthy of a birthday edition of Greenlizard.

I thought about how turning 35 means that on surveys and forms, I’m falling into a new and older age bracket. Yeah, that’s fun.

I also thought about how, when I go to the gym, not only do I now have to program the machine with one more year added to my age, but being 6 months pregnant, I also have to hit the + button for about five minutes to get it adjusted up to my appropriate weight. These two factors combined make for a really sunny start to my mornings for the next few months!

But as I thought about these things, I came to the conclusion that I don’t really mind being another year older. (And, truth be told, I don’t mind being pregnant and gaining weight so long as I don’t break the treadmill!)

So I began to think about my goals for this year…and what I hope to accomplish and who I hope to become this year. Quite frankly, with four children and a 5^th on the way, I don’t really have time for goals. I’m not a goal oriented person anyhow. I’m a doer. Just give me a job and I’ll do it but don’t ask me to think too hard about the big picture.  So I couldn’t write about that, either.

As I struggle to come up with something to write about… and as I ponder the dawn of another birthday, I thought about my mother and since I wouldn’t be here writing without her bringing me into this world, what could be more fitting than to write about her?! A tribute to the one woman who intimately shares my “birth day”. (SURPRISE MOM!!!)

For those who have been blessed with an amazing mother, you know how valuable it is to have a friend you can trust and a woman in your life who you know will always be there for you. My mother is one of those amazing women. She humbly serves her family and friends, but does it so quietly that you might not ever notice. She never complains and she is always looking for the best in any situation. She is, without a doubt, a woman to be admired, emulated, and treasured.

I've decided to highlight just a few of the many lessons mom has taught me over the years:

Independence

Growing up, I used to make cookies with my cousins every weekend. Always chocolate chip (is there really any other kind of cookie worth eating?) Mom wasn’t involved at all. She gave us freedom in the kitchen to bake to our hearts content. And we did. She didn’t hover over us and show us how to measure and what to do.

Samantha sometimes bakes cookies at our house… and I now realize how much patience it requires to let your kids be independent. Kids make A MESS in the kitchen. And they don’t seem to know how to clean it up. All I recall is mom letting us bake… and never getting angry. And probably doing all the clean up because I don’t recall ever doing that, either!

How to Listen

I might have been in high school… I don’t know. I was older but not married or anything. I so clearly recall sitting at the kitchen table talking to my mom. I was going on and on about who knows what. I only know that I talked a long time about, essentially, nothing. And she sat there listening to me. As I blathered on, it hit me, “My mom is sitting here listening to me and this must be SO BORING for her…but she is here. Listening.” It meant a lot to me in that moment… even if she was figuring out a grocery list in her head, she never showed it!

The other day, Samantha was at the kitchen table while I was making lunches. She had a book - 101 Hamburger Jokes - and she proceeded to read me joke after joke until I was ready to shoot myself in the head. (How many versions of a joke about hamburgers could possibly be funny enough for a whole book?!) And then I thought of my mother. And I listened and feigned laughter. And let her go anther two jokes before I told her to get dressed for the day.

Service

Where do I begin to describe mom’s service?! She doesn’t quit and she never complains. From a very young age, I can recall her volunteering for the local crisis pregnancy hotline and taking calls at our house from women in crisis. And she was always the mom bringing in goodies for the teachers and staff at our school. She regularly met with younger women and mentored them. And as her parents aged, she cared for them until the end. Even now, she drives friends to the hospital for cancer treatments and takes meals to those who need them. And all of this is ON TOP OF the countless hours she gives to her children and grandchildren.

I love my mom. I hope to be like her some day. I’m not there yet. Sure, I help out where I can but I can’t say I always do it without complaining. Her example of service is one I am trying to grow into.

Faith

Mom made sure we knew who Jesus was. She lived it. So many mornings when we were watching

Sesame Street

in the living room, she sat at the kitchen table with her Bible open, her brown/white speckled sweater on, and the blue speckled mug with a white rim filled with coffee next to her. When my sister and I were homeschooled, we woke up every morning and read a chapter of the book of Proverbs with mom, picking out a verse that “meant something to us”. And then there was the summer that she hosted an entire Vacation Bible School program for the church AT OUR HOUSE because it was important to her and she wanted to reach out to the neighborhood. Her love for God and others knows no bounds.

At this stage of my life, it amazes me the depth of her love for Christ and the way she prioritized what was important. I struggle to read a verse of the Bible to my kids in the morning… mom never failed.

Simple Pleasures

Growing up, mom was always up for a drive to get an ice cream cone and at baseball games, or festivals, nothing beat fried dough. But the simplest of pleasures that mom passed on to me was her love of coffee. Of the four kids in the family, it’s safe to say I’m the biggest coffee drinker. Well, maybe not the biggest (Becca rivals me at this point!) but I’ve definitely enjoyed coffee the longest! Mom and I would have coffee together at night from the time I was about 11 years old! I’m grateful for her love of simple pleasures!

I guess that’s why I don’t really mind when my own kids ask for a cup of coffee. It didn’t stunt my growth. It didn’t keep me up late at night. But it did give me an appreciation for the simple things in life… like spending time together… whether drinking coffee or getting an ice cream.

In Conclusion

This blog is not doing my mom justice.

I could go on and on. Even what I have written so far seems to lack so much. Let me just say that she is an amazing person. I’m so grateful to her for so many reasons. And I hope that someday I might be just a sliver of the person she is today.

Proverbs 31 sums up my mother. It really does. In describing a woman with great character it says: “Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all. Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Thank you mom for who you are. Thank you for your example. Thank you for your love. And thank you for giving me life. Happy 35^th anni-birth-day – to YOU!

Gratitude

Right now, I am grateful. I have a quiet moment all to myself and I'm grateful.

 

This week, my kids and I have been talking about gratefulness in the morning as we eat breakfast. We have these little cards from church that go along with what they are doing in Sunday School and apparently, this month must be gratefulness. Seems appropriate for November when everyone on Facebook is posting things they are thankful for.

 

Anyhow, one of the suggested activities for this month was to make a gratefulness box. We were instructed to decorate the box and fill it with little slips of paper listing some of the things we are grateful for. We still have to make the box but I wrote some of our ideas... hoping that the box will get made soon. I think we'll try to fill the box and read through the items over Thanksgiving weekend.

 

A sampling of some of the things the kids are grateful for:

• family & friends
• a brain (Samantha)
• Papa – because he plays with us a lot
• holidays like Christmas because we get to see our family (Michael)
• Jesus
• school
• Eli, Lucy, Aivlyn, Aunt Jen, & Uncle Jeremy (Jessica)
• food
• PBS Kids
• Michael at school (Amanda – I don't really know what this meant... I think maybe she is grateful when Michael GOES to school.)

Another suggested activity was to pick your favorite day ever – a special day that you have experienced and draw a cartoon about all of the different things you did that day...and put it in the box. We went around the table sharing what our favorite day would be if we had time to draw it out (which, of course we didn't have because we never really have time to do anything but eat in the morning.)

 

What struck me was what Samantha said. Of all the days she could have picked, she shared about a day this summer that she and Paul took a bike ride – just the two of them – to Netsins Ice Cream and bought a colossal six-scoop sundae and shared it. It was a day that seemed insignificant to me but it really meant something to her. Never underestimate the importance of one-on-one time with your kids! I know I really need to work on that.

As I appreciate this quiet moment, I think I could fill up our gratefulness box with a list of my own. Life isn't perfect, but it sure is good. And I have a lot to be thankful for. I'm thankful for things like: my washer & dryer, delicious food, coffee in the morning, kids that love to be tickled, a husband who reminds me of my worth, forgiveness, friendship, sunny fall days, and a contented heart.

 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

 

I hope you have a wealth of blessings in your life today – no matter what the circumstance. And that you find your box is overflowing gratitude.

Why hiding just won't work...

On Wednesday mornings, I go to Community Bible Study (CBS) on the East side of the city. I usually love being there.

But not this morning.

On this particular morning, I was sitting in a room of 150+ people when a woman interrupts the meeting and announces, “I’m looking for Liz Conrow.” As I glance in her direction, I notice that my child is on this woman’s hip.

My brain begins to process what is happening and within a matter of .01 seconds I realize that I am probably not being searched out to be recognized for my great mothering skills. I am pretty sure they didn’t bring Amanda into this meeting to publicly recognize me for the wonderful job I am doing raising this little cherub.

And immediately, I want to crawl under my chair. I knew right away that my child either barfed all over some other kid…or bit them. Either way, it couldn’t be good.

The woman leading the meeting announces, “Liz Conrow, are you here?!” Around the room, heads begin to look left and right for this mystery mom.

I slip my hand up, quickly gather my things, and try to discreetly sneak out of the room. As if that were possible.

Humbling. That’s all I can say.

As I was fixing dinner a short time ago and thinking through this scenario, I began wonder “What does it mean?” There has to be a spiritual meaning in this somewhere. Now, I don’t over-spiritualize everything in life but this was too odd to let go. And it bothered me. In all my years of going to Community Bible Study, I had never seen a mother get called out like that. So why me?!

I began to think about how sometimes, God calls out our name just like that woman called out mine. We might be sitting in a room full of people and we know God is speaking to us. Maybe He wants us to do something…or maybe He wants us to be somewhere or maybe He simply wants our heart. And we can choose to respond or we can try to crawl under our chair.

This reminded me of good old Jonah. I love Jonah. I can relate to Jonah. God called his name and he chose to crawl under his chair. And he ended up in the belly of a whale until he decided to respond to God’s voice and obey. I get that.

I was reminded that we can ignore His voice or we can respond to Him. The choice is ours. But if we choose to crawl under our chair, that hiding place won’t last long. If I had attempted that this morning, not only would I have looked silly but I would have been discovered. It’s hard to hide in a room of that size. Especially when people know your name. And when you are surrounded by friends who are looking at you and wondering why you are under your chair.

So, if God is calling your name today - about anything - pause a moment and ask Him what it is He wants from you. Putting it off won’t make it go away. While it may seem awful at first (like getting up out of your seat in a room full of 150 people), chances are, things aren’t as bad as you may think.

So, what happened with Amanda?! I swallowed my pride and slipped out of the room, waving goodbye to the crowd like I was in a parade. I couldn’t help but wonder what everyone around me was thinking as I made my exit. I went to my daughter and took her in my arms. I found out that she had an “accident”. Well, a little more than an accident. Apparently she had the big D - ewww… I know. But things could have been a lot worse. I could handle this. I got Jessica out of her class early and we went home.

It was a teachable moment for me today. And I’m sometimes grateful for those moments…even in the midst of humiliation.

Shiny Nickel

 

A friend of mine gave birth to twins a few months ago. They have to be among the cutest girls I have ever seen! There is something about seeing two adorable babies that you can’t help but see a miracle in the process of childbirth. And those two sweet girls really are a miracle. Born just short of 29 weeks after a tumultuous pregnancy, they are healthy three month olds who are growing like weeds!

The other day, my friend commented that the girls have started to smile and how much fun it is to see their happy expressions.

I was thinking about that today. For any new mother who lacks sleep and is in a constant state of exhaustion, it can mean the world to see your baby (or babies!) smile for the first time. I know that when I first saw those newborn smiles in my own children, I began to think, “Hey, you really like me, don’t you?!” and “Maybe all of this waking in the middle of the night is worth something!”

As a mother, I still live for those moments sometimes. I don’t care how old your child is… it still warms the heart when your child decides to smile at you.

We sometimes motivate Jessica (she’s 4) to do things by promising her a “shiny nickel”. Not just any nickel, mind you, a shiny one. It makes all the difference! So it isn’t uncommon, in our house, to hear us telling one of the kids, “If you put all the books on the bookshelf, I’ll give you a shiny nickel!” Or giving them some other menial task that we are too lazy to want to do ourselves.  Sometimes this works… other times, not so much.

Last night I bought a rotisserie chicken from Wegmans for dinner. I sliced it up, threw a bag of frozen vegetables in the microwave and put out the pre-sliced Wegmans dinner bread and voila dinner was served. Love nights like that. And the chicken was delicious even though I had no hand in preparing it. Michael asked for seconds of the chicken which almost never happens so I knew it was a good night for him, too. When dinner was over, he left the table and came back a moment later. He says to me, “Here mom, a shiny nickel because dinner was so good tonight!”

Truth be told, he actually gave me a dime. I’m interpreting that to mean that dinner was worth TWO shiny nickels rather than to believe my 7 year old doesn’t know his coins yet. And I’m choosing to believe that if I had cooked that rotisserie chicken myself, it would have tasted just as good.

Okay so what’s the point of telling you about my friends twin girls and my son’s thanking me for a delicious meal I didn’t prepare?! No matter what form it comes in - a smile from a newborn, or a shiny nickel from a child, a grateful heart is welcome and heartwarming. And we don’t hear the thanks often enough.

I’m on that kick again. I’m here to tell you that your efforts are appreciated! Even if the best you can do today is to give your kids cereal with milk for dinner, you are doing amazing things! We aren’t all called to be Martha Stewart even though we sometimes measure ourselves by that standard (and come up miserably short). Whatever you are doing today, it’s amazing work. The house may be a mess, the laundry may not be done but you are a phenomenal woman who deserves to be recognized for what you ARE doing each and every day.

Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness;  he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

The passage says that God will save us... and sometimes, that is just what I need:

·         “Save me from this mess!”

·         “Save me from kids crying and complaining!”

·         “Save me from having to scrub another toilet!”

But more often than not, what I really need to hear is simply that someone is pleased with what little I have done!

So even if your kids never say thank you for packing their lunch each day… or if nobody seems to notice how a hot dinner made it to the table tonight… or if your hubby doesn’t realize you spent the day cleaning out the fridge, God cares. He REJOICES over you and what you are doing today. He celebrates you with LOUD SINGING. I pray that you can hear His song today. And know you are making a difference, one little life at a time.

When God Spoke to Me in the Shoe Department...

I would love to say that God spoke to me in the shoe department and said “BUY THOSE SHOES!” but that isn’t exactly what happened.

I wasn’t going to share this little story but it has been on my mind for the last few days and I just can’t shake it. So I’ll share it…hoping it’s meant for someone else to hear.

I went to Target with Samantha a few weeks ago. Nothing unusual there…except that I had to go to the Chili Target on this particular morning. I don’t think I have ever been to the Chili Target. I’m an eastside girl. I go to Irondequoit, Marketplace or Webster…but never Chili.

But they had uniform pants I needed for Samantha for school… so off we went. As usual, I had a return to do first so Sam perused the dollar bins while waiting. We trotted to the girls department and found the pants. And then it was off to the dressing room just to make sure they fit right.

After successfully trying on the pants, we were walking toward the shoe department when she stops mid-stride and says, “My wallet! I don’t have it!” Arrrggggghhhhh!!!

I sent her back to the dressing room to look around and she came back looking distraught. I walked back with her to give a second look around. Of course there was no wallet.

Me: Are you sure you brought it into the store?

Sam: I think so!

Me: I knew you should have left it in the car! Let’s go to the service desk and report it. What was in it?

Sam: Um… $8.

Me (thinking to myself): Okay it’s only $8 and if we don’t find it, it will be OK. But this is annoying.

The woman at the service desk asked for my phone number so she could call if the wallet got turned in. I gave her our home phone number. And then I thought, “Why didn’t I give her my cell number? Ah well…” As I’m talking to the service desk employee, Sam checked the dollar bins to make sure she didn’t set it down somewhere.

We re-trace our steps through the girls department and decide to check the dressing room one more time. Between the girls department and the dressing room are the shoes. I decided to glance at the shoes while we made our way to the dressing room. While walking through shoe department I hear THE VOICE.

The voice: “You should pray.”

Me: “Yeah, I probably should pray and it would be a good example to Samantha but I’m frustrated and annoyed and I’m not gonna’ ask God for help finding the wallet of an 8 year old girl. And we’re standing in the shoe department!”

We pressed on to the dressing rooms. I spoke with the attendant and asked her to keep an eye out for it.

We purchased the pants and headed to the car, holding out hope that maybe the wallet would be sitting on her seat or something. Of course, as we got to the car, the wallet wasn’t there. I was trying (rather unsuccessfully) to contain my frustration about this. Since we are never in Chili, I’m thinking, “Oh great… if they find it I’m gonna’ have to truck back out here for it!”

Before pulling out of the parking lot, I decide I better call Paul.

Before pulling out my phone to call home, I utter a prayer in desperation, “Lord, where IS that wallet? I know you know where it is… Please help us find it!”

And then I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone. My phone is almost always in my front right pants pocket. But this time, the phone is not there… Samantha’s wallet is. It had been in my pocket the WHOLE time. I sit there humbled, once again.

I ponder this feeling humiliated and ashamed. I know God told me to pray in the shoe department and I ignored him. I’m fairly certain that if I had asked for God’s help 20 minutes earlier, when I was in the shoe department, we would have found the wallet that much more quickly and our shopping trip would have been so much more fun. I apologized to Samantha for being angry with her, and I asked God to forgive me for ignoring His voice.

The wallet just seemed too small to talk to God about… and I was so angry. 

Maybe you need to hear this today, I don't know... but whatever you need to ask God for, do it. Don’t put it off. Don’t think you can handle it on your own. Pray. Today. Now. Give it to him and even if you don’t get the answer you want immediately, you will have a sense of peace that the Creator of the Universe is watching over your needs and cares about you.

"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.

Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.

Then you will experience God’s peace,which exceeds anything we can understand."

Philippians 4:6-7

In Honor of My Husband on His 34th Birthday

I was annoyed with my husband recently. Shocking, I know. Not that I would be annoyed with Paul but “shocking” that two people who commit to sharing their lives together would ever butt heads. (This sounds like a GREAT birthday tribute so far, doesn't it?!)

Paul had been out golfing with our 6 year old, Michael. While he was gone, I cleaned our bedroom. This may not sound huge but there were piles of clothes that had been unmoved for the entire summer! I was so proud of myself for all of my efforts and I was eager to show Paul our cleaned up respite from chaos!

As he was unpacking the clubs from the car, I went to the basement to change over the laundry, only to discover that the laundry tub had overflowed and the floor was a wet mess. Frustrated I went to the sink and saw gobs of grey paint stopping up the drain.

“It figures,” I thought. “Once again, he started a project (paining the porch floor) and didn’t really clean up his mess and now there is water on the floor. Well, I’m not picking those gobs of paint out of the sink. He can do that himself. I have already cleaned our bedroom and done enough for him today. This is the thanks I get for everything I do around here!” And on and on went the thoughts in my mind as I considered everything I do each day in light of the mess on the floor.

Full of selfishness and anger, I brought him to the basement, showed him the problem, and left him there to take care of it. I didn’t bother to tell him how excited I was about the bedroom. The moment was ruined.

And then I heard it: that still, small voice that urges forgiveness for an offense. It was so clear to me. And it humbled me.

“How many more days do you have together?” said the voice in my head.

“How many more days?”

“If you live to be 85, how many more days will the two of you spend together?”

I thought about this and realized it was several thousand days. Grabbing a calculator, I figured that if we live another 50 years, it is 18,250 days to be exact.

And the voice prodded me, “If you have over eighteen thousand days together, are you going to let this one small offense ruin all of that? Are you going to let a few gobs of paint in the sink become such an unforgivable offense that you hold it against him and lose even one day together?”

I hung my head in shame. “Lord,” I prayed, “forgive me for being so selfish. Help me to forgive him and get over myself. Thank you for each day we have together.”

And with that, I joined him in the basement and apologized for my attitude. And of course, he had no idea how upset I really was. Men are like that.

So, Paul Conrow, on your birthday, let me thank you for everything you do. Thank you for loving our children and for loving me even when I can be hard to live with. I’m so grateful that God has given you to me forever. And I’m looking forward to another 18,250 days with you. Happy birthday!

Aunt Helen

(This was written yesterday...just didn't get to post it until today.)



I’m feeling invigorated today. I’m not sure if it’s because I worked out this morning and then proceeded to take a 2+ mile walk pulling over 50 lbs of small children in a little red wagon… or because I’m just feeling grateful.

Either way, I’m happy.

Oddly enough, I have wanted to blog about sadness lately. It’s everywhere. It’s for real. The pain is deep and not temporary. And I feel like I’m in the middle of it…wondering how I’m supposed to respond and be helpful and not an annoyance. The sadness isn’t really mine, per se, but I’m surrounded by it and it affects me.

I don’t know how to express this thought without sounding silly…but I wonder if the sadness all around is because I’m getting older. I feel kinda’ like Jessica who, at the ripe old age of 3 will say, “When I was little I liked Elmo. But not anymore” Many people would tell me that I’m not old yet. And that at 34½, I have a lot of living to do…but life seems more “serious” these days. I’m getting old.

That thought, alone, is depressing.

Anyhow, despite the sadness and despair (and I’m talking about more than just my age here!), I’m feeling grateful today.

My morning was wide open for possibility and I wondered what I should do with my “free” time. I said a prayer asking God if there was anything He needed me to do. Not hearing a “voice from the clouds”, I decided to take a walk with my little girls and visit my Great Aunt Helen. I’ve never visited Aunt Helen at her house so this would most certainly be a surprise visit!

She greeted us in a pink floral house dress that looked like it was taken straight out of a magazine from the 1950’s. She reminded me of what my grandmother would have looked like if I had stopped over unannounced at any point. She greeted us with a smile and invited us in, making no mention of the fact that she wasn’t expecting us. The girls and I went in for 20 minutes or so and had some cookies before we had to make the trek back home.

I think visiting Aunt Helen made me feel grateful because in some small way, that visit made a difference in the world – both hers and mine.

Grief is for real. Pain is for real. Anxiety is for real. Everyone experiences it at some point…some with more intensity than others. And I’m not exactly sure what the tie in is to my feeling grateful this morning except to say that exercising and taking time out for others is a way to lift your spirits and take your focus off of the “tough stuff” of life.

Luke 6:38 says, “Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.” So if you need joy today, find some way to bring joy to others. It may take time for the joy to come back to you but rest assured, it will.

I really had a great day today. I think I may try to visit Aunt Helen more often. But maybe I’ll call first!

Thank you, Lenore!



Samantha & Michael - First Day of School

My kids have started walking themselves to and from school. It’s been an incredible, scary, wonderful experience…for them as much as for me.

We have talked about it for awhile. Samantha, in particular, has been keen on the idea. I think our family must look like a freak show at times. Often, when we pick up Paul from work, Sam will ask to get dropped off a block or two from home so she can walk the rest of the way. So we pull over, she and Michael climb out of the car and start walking, and we drive off leaving our kids on the sidewalk.

Slowly, they have been stretching their wings of independence.

Friday was the first day they walked home alone from school. As the time ticked by, I sat on the porch waiting for them to arrive and wondering what was taking so long…but not so nervous as to jump in the car and go find them. They arrived moments later, full of joy!

Yesterday, Monday, they walked home again. This time, the Vice Principal (VP) of the school (who I’m good friends with) texted me to ask if they were really walking home alone. I could tell from her text that she didn't think it was a good idea...though she didn't say as much. I let her know that yes, they were free to walk home. There was a crossing guard for them and they love walking. She asked me (twice!) to text her to let her know they got home safely. I know she was concerned for my kids and I appreciated that, but for a moment, I had to wonder who the parent was! I had to check in with the VP to let her know my kids arrived home safely to me?

I read a book called Free Range Kids: Giving Our Kids the Freedom We Had Without Going Nuts With Worry by Lenore Skenazy. Her book is a bit um…controversial? To some, I suppose, it is...but I loved it! It really jived with me and made so much sense. I have to wonder if I don’t owe Lenore a great deal of credit for the courage her book gave me to let my kids walk home from school without me. I definitely recommend the book.

Anyhow, I want my kids to grow up knowing their neighbors. I want my kids to learn how to get to and from our home. I want them to be independent and confident. I want my kids to know that I trust them.

But I know a lot of people (like the VP) would disagree with the fact that I let my 8 & 6 ½ year old walk home together…alone.

When the kids arrived home from school yesterday (after I texted the VP back to let them know that yes, they arrived!) they were overjoyed to have walked most of the way home with a 6^th grade friend from school that is a school safety, and they met a new friend from school that they didn’t know lived in our neighborhood! They were so proud of themselves and so was I.

As I tucked the kids into bed I wondered if letting them walk really was a good idea (the VP’s text was still fresh in my mind).  I decided to ask the kids what they liked about walking home without me. With a big smile on his face Michael said “meeting that new boy from the neighborhood.” And when I asked Samantha, she paused a moment and said, “I feel free. I don’t have to wait for the whole family to catch up to me when I get to a street crossing. Michael and I can go at our own pace.” WOAH. That was profound. I decided that I definitely would let them walk to school in the morning. Michael was absolutely overjoyed, as was Samantha.

While I’m adjusting to this new freedom for my kids, I will admit that it isn’t “easy” to let them walk out the door in the morning without me but I know it’s the right thing for them and for me. I am learning to continually put my children in God’s hands, knowing that He will watch over them as they go about their day. I know they’re still young but this practice of trusting God is definitely going to continue for the rest of their lives so I may as well get used to it!

As I pondered this idea of giving God control and trusting Him to take care of my kids, it got me to wondering how others deal with trusting God with their children’s lives. I have a number of friends who have situations far more difficult than me letting my kids walk to school and trusting God for their safety.

In my journey of trusting God with my kids lives, I have been trying to remember that God promises us His peace. Peace beyond anything we could experience apart from Him. Consider these promises from God:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

“Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way.” 1 Thessalonians 3:16

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

Whatever you may be going through…whatever stresses your kids are putting you through, God promises us His peace. Knowing Jesus really makes all the difference!

So, if your daughter just got her permit and the idea of her driving stresses you out… or if you’re pregnant (with twins!) and you’re on bed rest and worried about the babies… or if your child is sick and there is nothing you can do for him… or if your son is serving in the military over in Afghanistan... or if you think your child has delayed speech and you’re concerned… or if your child is “just not right” and you’re worried… or if you’re letting your kids walk to school without you for the first time… know that your children are in God’s hands. He loves children. He really does! And He is taking care of them and watching over them every moment. What good does worry do?

I read a quote recently (and of course I can’t find it now) about how we aren’t intended to carry tomorrow’s worries today. The load is too heavy. So be free from worry today and feel the peace of Jesus deep within your heart.

I’m looking forward to my kids next walk to/from school and watching them experience the joy of freedom. And I’m learning to feel that same freedom myself as I trust God with their little lives each day!

Fun Fusion

Love is a funny thing. People are forever trying to define love, understand it, grasp it or run from it. Songs try to spell it out but nobody can quite agree. Check out this small sampling:

What is love? Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me…no more. (Haddaway)

All you need is love… (The Beatles)

We did it all for the glory of love… (Peter Cetera)

I would do anything for love… (Meatloaf)

I can’t help falling in love with you... (Elvis)

Love stinks, love stinks… yeah yeah (Adam Sandler)

The other night I think I finally figured out what love is... a small version of it anyway.

Have you ever heard of Fun Fusion? If you own Fun Fusion, you know what love is. The name is an oxymoron. The kids, they love it. It keeps them busy and quiet for at least 10-15 minutes and for that reason (and that reason alone) it’s a goldmine. Other than that, it has to be one of the most annoying things on the planet.

Fun Fusion is a craft project made up of little plastic perler beads that have to be set on a mold and then ironed (fused) together to create something “fun”. Like a dolphin or a teddy bear or a butterfly.

If your kids are under the age of 3 you probably haven’t heard of Fun Fusion. You can thank me for enlightening you later.  Anyhow, if you’re a “visual” learner here’s a quick pictorial lesson for you:



An unopened, tidy box of Fun Fusion



Perler Beads... these "innocent" beads really do find their way EVERYWHERE in the house.

The base that the beads sit on until they are fused and the final product.

Anyhow, in the process of creating a Fun Fusion doohickey, the beads ultimately get spilled on the floor, lost down the heat run, or eaten by the youngest member of the family. They end up all over the house. The projects can take a good 30 minutes or more to create and when Samantha finally gets all the beads just where she wants them, Amanda will ultimately knock into it and the beads will fly all over the place… and tears follow as Samantha has to do it “all over again!”

Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

And on the off chance that someone actually finishes their project and I get it ironed before the beads get dumped, the finished, fused project gets admired for 20 seconds or so and then discarded in the toy heap never to be touched again.

Believe it or not, there is a lesson about love in all of this “complaining”.

I learned the other night that love is more than letting the kids play with Fun Fusion even though I really don’t like it.

Love is more than getting the kids to bed and then spending the next half hour ironing their projects.

True love is

1.      Letting your kids play with Fun Fusion

2.      Ironing a Fun Fusion project when you really want to sit on the couch for 30 minutes and watch your ONE SHOW OF THE WEEK.

3.      Picking up spilled perler beads that YOU knocked over trying to iron the silly things.

4.      Seeing the completed, fused Fun Fusion project discarded after giving up your free 30 minutes… but knowing you would do it again in a heartbeat.

And yes, this happened to me just last week. There were three projects that the kids finished and they asked me to iron them. I had put it off a few days already. It was Thursday and I really just wanted to watch The Office. But, being the good mom, I got out the iron and decided to get the projects off the mantle (is selfish motivation still love?) Anyhow, as I picked up the first one and brought it over to the ironing board, I knocked it. It doesn’t take much. Half of the beads spilled on to the floor. I sat there looking at the mess and it hit me. THIS IS LOVE.

The Bible would agree. Well, I can’t say there is any reference to Fun Fusion in the Bible but check out these passages:

Romans 5:8 – “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

1 John 4:9 – “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.”

John 15:13 – “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”

Jesus came as a man. He lived on the earth and he literally gave up his own life for us. That really is love. That is sacrifice. People have a hard time getting their hands around love because so seldom do we see such extravagant love. I’m fairly certain that Jesus didn’t want to go on the cross – he said it himself. But he knew that such a great sacrifice would bring even greater joy.

My sacrifice: to give up a TV. show to iron a project for my kids. I know it doesn’t even compare. It was hardly a sacrifice… and yet, for me, though small, it was. It was done out of love. And you know what? It felt good.

My kids were thrilled to find their projects completed on Friday morning. Paul and I often say, “It’s a simple life…but a good one.” And it’s a simple love but a love worth celebrating.

And if I could find so much joy in this… the love Jesus has for us must be infinitely greater! Oh happy day!

Uncle Jack

In memory of Uncle Jack
March 11, 1917 - January 27, 2011



His name was as simple as the life he lived.

He didn’t need a lot of fanfare.

He shuffled along without a cane, eyes to the ground. When greeted, he would look up with a smile that said hello as he kept moving to the living room chair where he sat and listened. He would have shared his thoughts and would have had plenty to say if we had asked him. But we rarely ever did.

One personal effect seemed to define him: his pipe. He always had his pipe. And as kids, nothing smelled better.

His home had dust. Not the kind of dust that comes from laziness. In that regard, his home was immaculate.

It was more the dust that comes from years of living. The carpets were worn and probably chosen by his mother when he was young. They had the kind of dirt that slowly forms as one’s eyesight weakens. And yet he was ever so aware of it when you stopped to visit. He knew his hands were as tired as the carpeting. They just couldn’t clean like they used to.

There were no nick-knacks sitting around. You could count on two hands the number of pictures or pieces of artwork on display. In a mantle cupboard was a glass baby shoe. Most likely his and probably untouched for the last 90 years.

His regular sitting chair faced the television. It was a rusty orange color - worn to the frame, unkempt, and small. But it fit him nicely.

Room by room revealed a wonder of emptiness. A simple dresser and bed in each bedroom, nothing more. What others might turn into storage space, office space or closet space… he had no need for.

While he lived alone for so many years, a woman’s touch was evident in the floral wallpaper his mother selected for the dining room and master bedroom and the vanity that hadn’t moved since she was alive.

Dresser drawers were as empty as the rest of the house. Of the few things they contained, many of the items were “new” and still in their packaging but those same items were also “old”. Many of the items were gifts given to him before the invention of barcodes. They likely sat there for 25 years or more. He routinely wore his favorite pair of pants and dress shirt and had no need for what was new.

The basement held a story all its own. There was only a washing machine for laundry, no dryer had ever come into his  home. And it wasn’t that he couldn’t afford one. He, like his father before him, would wash the clothes at home and lug the heavy, wet cotton and polyester fibers up the narrow basement stairs and take them to the laundromat where he would read the paper while waiting for them to dry. Even at 93 years old.

He had next to nothing but he had everything he could ever need. And he never complained. He had a shelter over his head, a1999 Ford Mercury with fewer than thirty thousand miles, food in his cupboards, and blankets to keep him warm.

There were no skeletons in his closet - nothing in his life to be ashamed of.  While his home and his belongings seem to leave out a lot of details, that’s who he was. His life was uncomplicated. He didn’t ask for much. He never needed help. He was happy just to be a part of things.

As I think about it, his life was a living example of 1 Thessalonians 4:11 which says, “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your hands.”  He didn’t need a lot of “stuff.” He lived without any drama. He was gentle and kind until the end.

Uncle Jack, you will be missed. Your quiet, gentle presence always brought a warmth and a comfort to our family. Thank you for teaching us that we don’t really need that much to be joyful and to live a full, long life. May you rejoice in heaven with the angels today.

Small Statement, Big Impact



I'll save you the trouble of asking... No, this isn't me!

While putting on earrings this morning (an unusual event in and of itself) I had a flashback to when I was about 12 years old and going to get my ears pierced for the very first time. Though I haven’t thought about it in awhile, I can recall it like it was yesterday. I was so excited and felt so grown up.

As the woman was piercing my ears, she made a statement that I have never forgotten…and it has been over 22 years since that day. She said, “Your earlobes will be able to support large earrings some day.” It was an odd comment but this was the 80’s and everyone was wearing big things - big hair, big leg warmers, big earrings. Her comment was a compliment but I remember it so well because all I could think was, “I have big earlobes?” I had never thought about my earlobes. I was 12 for heaven’s sake! And to this day, there are fleeting moments where I wonder if my earlobes are too big and that’s why she made the comment.

Anyhow, as I finished getting dressed this morning, that thought lingered with me and I began to think about other statements that have been made to me – statements that have stuck with me through the years. Some have been positive…others, not so much.

The next thought I had was being in the pediatrician’s office as a young girl. The memory is so vivid. The doctor was talking more to my mom than to me (although I was sitting right there wearing a white paper “gown”) when he said, “She isn’t heavy, she is big boned”. I heard what he said but the words that registered in my mind were: “Big boned? I’m fat?” I have hated that phrase ever since. At times, I have used it as an excuse for carrying around extra weight and other times, I have used it to have a pity party when weight loss wasn’t going so well.

My thoughts this morning weren’t all negative, though.

I thought about when I was a young college student. I was involved in InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, a campus club, and we were planning a special event. The speaker, Mike Hernberg, needed some details taken care of. Helping him was no problem, in fact it was my job at the time, and I didn’t really expect anything from him for it. But he paid me a compliment worth more than I could have ever asked for. He said, “You’re a ‘can-do’ person, and I appreciate it!” Those words echo in my mind, even now, when I have a big task to undertake. I remind myself of those words, “I’m a can-do person! I can do this!” His few words let me know he had confidence in my abilities.

And I’ll never forget when my grandfather was in the hospital and dying. I was a senior in college. My mom, my sister and I had spent the night in his hospital room. He was struggling to talk but I can see his gentle eyes as he pointed to himself and then to me and then back at himself. In what was barely a whisper, he said, “I love you… and you love me.” and he smiled. And I cried. Those words still bring tears to my eyes.

Four simple phrases.

“Your earlobes will be able to support large earrings some day.”

“She isn’t heavy, she is big boned.”

“You’re a can-do person.”

“I love you…and you love me.”

None of these phrases were said in the hopes that they would stick with me forever. But they have.

Statements made in the ordinary everyday living. We make statements like these all the time. We just never know who is really listening and whose hearts we are impacting for better or worse.

As a mother, these thoughts have made me tremble as I have considered what things I have said that made my children feel ashamed or embarrassed or cut down. God forgive me for any darts my words have thrown at others, and especially my kids!

The Bible has a lot to say about the words we speak. Consider this sampling:

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue…” Proverbs 18:21

“Kind words heal and help; cutting words wound and maim.” Proverbs 15:4

“But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken.” Matthew 12:36

What words have been casually spoken to you?

You’re a great organizer. You’re so funny! You have no sense of humor. You laugh too loudly. You take things too seriously. You never stay focused long enough to get anything done. You can cook better than Julia Child. You are so impatient!

We all have phrases like these that ring in our ears from time to time. If you’re like me, there are lots of ‘em. Let God free you from what tears you down and receive life from the statements that build you up.

It’s kinda’ funny… the ear piercing woman would think I was nuts for remembering her phrase. The doctor would probably have taken back his words had he known how much his words would sting. Mike was just being a nice guy and finding a way to say thank you. And Grandpa… was just being grandpa.

I pray that the casual, everyday words you speak today would bring life to those around you. You never know who is listening and how you will be remembered!

Happy New Year!

Today's blog was inspired by a conversation with a friend and written for the Bethel Moms Ministry newsletter. Thank you Angela Cabrera for sharing your thoughts, struggles, and general disdain for resolutions with me. You're not alone. One day we'll get all of those digital pictures printed and put into albums! But probably not this year...

It’s January… the time when everyone makes their New Year’s Resolutions.  If you’re anything like me, maybe you have already made them... and broken them.

Which resolutions did you make this year? Lose weight? Exercise more? Yell at your kids less? Pray with more passion? Clean your house more than once a year? Get a good night’s sleep every so often? Finally organize and make prints of your digital pictures?

Yes. To all of the above. Okay, those really would all be mine if I actually made resolutions… (which I don’t) and the list could go on and on beyond that.

I really like the idea of making resolutions. I like the thought of trying to improve my life and become a better person. I really do desire to be the best version of who I am and become all God created me to be. But three hours after I make resolutions, I lose the paper where I wrote them down and...you know the rest of the story.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re really supposed to make resolutions at all.  (Yes, this is the justification I sell myself to keep from feeling guilty! If you’re like me, read on. You’re gonna’ love this!)

When you think about it, resolutions make us focus on the negative aspects of who we are. We are forced to ponder the things we didn't do well. We set our minds on areas where we have fallen short and ways we feel we didn’t measure up.

How is that helpful?

I understand that sometimes it’s good to reflect and make changes. There is certainly a time and a place for that. But not at the start of a new year.  Maybe not ever.

What if, instead of focusing on the negative, we focused on the positive? What if instead of making resolutions, we pondered what it was that we did fairly well this past year? For me, it would probably be a shorter, much more manageable list!

Things I have done well: 1.

Umm… I can’t come up with anything. Ok. Deep breath. Dig deep. Try it again.

Things I have done well: 1. My kids have never truly gone hungry. (I know it’s a pathetic first item but I’ve gotta’ start somewhere… and that doesn’t mean I have made gourmet meals or never forgotten to pack a lunch here or there… but generally speaking, they have been fed.)

End of list.

No, try again. Keep at it.

Things I have done well: 1. My kids have never truly gone hungry. 2. I started writing a blog. I enjoy it and have gotten positive feedback.

Hey, I’m on a roll! Keep going!

Things I have done well: 1. My kids have never truly gone hungry. 2. I started writing a blog. 3. This is really tough to do and my list is shamefully shorter than I expected.

It’s HARD to come up with the things I have done well. It’s very telling that we don’t think about the good things, rather we focus on the bad so often! If you had to do this same list for someone else, I’m sure you could come up with a hundred things… but try to it for yourself and it’s near impossible.

In Philippians 4:8, The Message translation of the Bible says, “…you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.”

Thinking positively about yourself and your accomplishments isn’t an easy task! But it is one that will certainly encourage you to go farther, and be more of who you really are - not who you wish you could be. There ARE good things, praiseworthy things about YOU! Celebrate them this year and grow in them!

What a relief to know that I don’t have to feel badly for not making and/or keeping resolutions. My list is coming along nicely. Things I have done well: 1. My kids have never truly gone hungry. 2. I started writing a blog. 3. I no longer feel guilt over how I didn’t measure up last year.

I’ll do my best to keep adding to this list. Make sure you take a moment to come up with yours. It’s tough… but well worth it! Happy New Year!