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!