Shameless

I admit it. I am shamelessly making a post for the sole purpose of advertising this giveaway (and thereby gaining another entry therein). I apologize to anyone who got their hopes up. :D

MckMama is hosting a giveaway for a new HP Touchsmart 600 computer. And I'm a nerd, so while I do not actually think I will win said computer in a million years, it would be SOOOOOOO cool if I did! Check out the full info here.

Funk.

Boo!

Did you miss me?

I think at least one person did. In the midst of mission trips to Haiti, first anniversaries, and tripling coupons like mad...perhaps you missed me too. :) I'll just assume you did, since it makes me feel better. Thanks so much.

And now for the funk...

I credit my husband with the first use of this term to describe a day when he was feeling a bit "off". We've come to understand its meaning and most of what is being said when we report the funk to each other. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here are some definite signs of the funk:

1. Everything irks you just a little bit.
2. You want peace and quiet more than anything else in the world.
3. You find yourself staring into nothing (you know, a lot more than usual).
4. There's some sort of mental block set deep in your brain--you feel like you're thinking through mud.
5. Things that normally make you happy suddenly make you go "Eh. Okay."
6. You distance yourself from other people, then wonder why those other people seem distant.
7. On second thought, even more than peace and quiet, you want a nice long hug from your very best friend.
8. You feel the urge to be just a little ticked off at God...along with the simultaneous urge to throw yourself at His feet and beg for comfort and love.

Such is the nature of the funk. Things you can not deny feeling but know you have no reason to feel. The funk has been visited upon me for at least a solid week now. In fact, I think it's been slowly building for some time. Round and round and round it goes, where it stops...nobody knows. Perhaps a decision on my part. Perhaps a song. Perhaps a note from a friend. Perhaps something I read...perhaps.

The most encouraging thing about the funk is that it is not a chronic condition. And my "brain mud" may be all washed away by the time I wake up tomorrow. We shall see.

miracles...

Kelli Allen, a wonderful excellent friend of mine, told me somewhere between our first and second child that the real miracle of childbirth is that you usually forget about it enough to do it again.

I should stop right there and say: No, Mama, I'm not pregnant.

I'm talking about that wonderful church institution that drains an entire congregation's energy for a whole week: Vacation Bible School. Because it has occurred to me this year that VBS is a lot like childbirth in the way Kelli described it. Each year I spend weeks planning, improvising activities that I simply like better than the ones in the curriculum, and cutting out all those aggravating pieces of cardstock Lifeway likes to make part of every leader pack. Then I decorate, which usually involves climbing on chairs, moving heavy furniture, and more aggravating pieces of cardstock. And then...it's on. The children descend upon the church and the fun begins. Except some nights I wouldn't go right to fun. But despite the weariness at the end of the week, when this magical time arrives again next year you are likely to find me in a decorated classroom with my aggravating cardstock cut-outs all over again. Nevermind the fact that I've already determined I need a break next year. I've counted it up and found that I've taught VBS for 9 years now (I did skip a year right after Luke was born)...which does not seem so very long until you think about the fact that I'm only 26!!! Maybe a break is in order. Ask me next year.

VBS holds many small-scale miracles, to be sure. Gathering such a large group of children for a concentrated week of teaching God's word--that's a miracle. The closeness each class acheives by the end of the week--that's a miracle. And the fact that nearly the same people make VBS a sucess year after year--that's most certainly a miracle.

Reasons I'm a Good Mom

I need this post. Ever have one of those days? Mine was yesterday. So indulge me. Thankyouverymuch.

I've determined I'm a good mom because...

1. I vacuum Lego's out of my kitchen vent.
2. I make my daughter oatmeal for dinner if she really wants it.
3. I keep my children's toys in order (I also keep them from mixing up all the Play-doh, but we won't go there)
4. I support my son in his slightly OCD habits...mostly because they're my habits too. :)
5. I sometimes cry when I see my little girl all dressed for dance class.
6. I iron their church clothes. And I always make sure their shoes match. And Sissy's hair accessories. Every great once in awhile, the whole family matches! My husband loves that.
7. I spend time away from my kids. Without feeling guilty about it.
8. I always know what to order them at McDonald's and Chick-fil-A so that everyone gets enough nuggets and fruit for themselves...only sometimes Bubba likes a cheeseburger.
9. I often have a sixth sense about where to look for lost things.
10. I know the name of every character of every movie they've ever seen. I'm a fount of useless knowledge like that.
11. I like watching the Imagination Movers. And the Backyardigans. And Wall-E. And...well, we'll just leave it at that.
12. I change songs on the CDs in the car on demand...most of the time.
13. I seem to have a knack for boiling down great truths of God so that Luke actually runs out of questions. For example, Mama, are there stores in heaven? No, baby. We won't need stores in heaven. Then how will I buy Power Miners there? God has everything in heaven we need to be happy forever, baby. Oh. Okay.
14. I have apparently taught my children enough about God that they know to ask these questions.

a little visit with mom...and a little time with God

Be warned. This is deep. And a little painful. But it ends on a happy note, so read on if you like. Just don't say I didn't warn you. :)

If you've read this post, you may have gathered that I don't have much of a relationship with my mom. Well, last week I had a chance to spend nearly two whole days with her. I have to admit I was a little scared. Okay a lot scared. I thought of staying home, but my sister needed my support so I went. Here's some of the good and bad that followed:

First, it is important for me to say that I do not hate my mother. I do not resent her, nor do I blame her for anything that is "off" in my own life. This is not an "oh I can't stand that woman" type of post.

I love my mother...a fact that often blows up in my face when I'm around her.

You see, my mother is...broken. After years of misfortune, bad decisions, lack of support, and an outright abuse of several types of medication, my mom is a shell of the person she once was. Each time I see her I am hopeful I will see a glimpse of the woman who was strong enough to raise me on her own for several years before she began her descent. Last week, before we arrived in South Carolina for my sister's basic training graduation, I was filled with so much...hope. Hope that since mom was sober when I talked to her on the phone she would be okay when I saw her. Hope that she would not come with a week's supply of pills for only two days. Hope that she would be my mom in the way I remember her before all this and not some broken, pitiful, incompetent woman that I am obligated to spend time with.

Keep in mind that the only hope that does not disappoint is found in Christ...because this particular hope of mine was certainly shattered. And yet I am not terribly upset or disappointed. Specifically because Christ does not disappoint.

I believe God can use even the smallest things to reach my heart. Sometimes it becomes clear to me that I believe that in my head and not so much in practice. Of course, that fact is clearest when He does break through my little human fog to reach into my heart. Such was the case as I sat outside our hotel near Fort Jackson, waiting for my uncle to arrive with my mom. He had already warned me of her slightly incapacitated state (yes that's an understatement) and I could feel the anxiety brewing in the pit of my stomach. Not just butterflies, mind you, but large, heavy boulders of dread...the kind that make you feel hot from the inside out and force you to consider losing your dinner on the sidewalk. I sat in my car for nearly an hour, waiting while they stopped for food and made the final leg of the trip.

Why would one sit in a car in the South Carolina heat for an hour without going inside the hotel? Fear. And what does one do for an hour in the car? Watch the people swimming in the hotel's pool; read through Ephesians chapter 3, which talks about the unfathomable love of Christ; and listen to music that I honestly was not in love with. Out of boredom...and lack of good radio stations. While I'm sitting in my car worrying and not-listening to The Best of the Gaither Vocal Band, volume 1, a slightly familiar song begins. I recognize the chorus, but I would never have pulled that particular song out of the back of my mind for any purpose.

Until now.

Here are the words I heard, sung by Michael English:

Lily of the Valley, let your sweet aroma fill my life
Rose of Sharon show me how to grow in beauty in God's sight
Fairest of ten thousand make me a reflection of your light
Daystar shine down on me let your love shine through me in the night

Lead me Lord, I'll follow...anywhere you open up the door
Let your word speak to me, show me what I've never seen before
Lord I want to be your witness, you can take what's wrong and make it right
Daystar shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

Lord I've seen a world that's dying, wounded by the master of deceit
Groping in the darkness, haunted by the years of past defeat
But when I see you standing near me, shining with compassion in your eyes
I pray Jesus shine down on me let your love shine through me in the night

Lead me Lord, I'll follow anywhere you open up the door
Let your word speak to me, show me what I've never seen before
Lord I want to be your witness, you can take what's wrong and make it right
Daystar shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

That second verse is in bold because it was almost like a description of my relationship with my mom--she is certainly wounded by the master of deceit, groping in the darkness, and haunted by her years of past defeat. And, having placed my trust in Jesus Christ, I am the one who sees Him standing near with compassion in his eyes. After I heard this song...and heard it again...and heard it again, my worry seemed to scamper off and hide in the corner because a great light had been shed on the purpose behind this little gathering we were about to have. It was not a chore. It was not a horrific, terrifying, dreadful encounter with someone I would just as soon not involve in my life. It was not destined for disaster. It was an opportunity. Because you see, my life is blessed...and it is beautiful. But it is that way because the Lord proclaimed it so. I did not earn my husband or his salary. I did not earn the most beautiful children in the world (yes, they are). I did not earn my college education. I did not earn what little bit of the knowledge of God I posess. I have been granted each of these things because of His grace and mercy and it is now my responsibility to take the love He has lavished upon me and pour it out to a fallen world so that they might have life...and have it more abundantly.

My mother does not need me to tell her she is screwing up her life. In times of heartfelt honesty, she has told me that herself. She does not need me to preach to her or guilt-trip her (yeah, that's a verb) about the ways I think she failed as a mother. She does not need me...at all. She needs Jesus. And I know Him. Matthew says to us in the New Testament: "let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your father in heaven" (Matthew 5:16). So my mission is this: shine. Radiate a blinding light that no one can deny comes from God himself. Do I know how to do this? I haven't the foggiest. But I have my instruction manual. And I have a never-ending supply of all-sufficient grace. And that's an excellent place to start.

Were those two days a picnic? No. Was my mom a disappointment in the way she acted? Yes. But did I spend my time ignoring her, resenting her, or even outright hating the fact that she was with me? No. Why? I'm so glad you asked. Because in order for her to see love, I must be for her what she can not be for herself. I must not come with standards for her to live up to...because really, which of us measures up to the Father's expectations? And I must be the light she lacks in her life. After all, I can do all things...through Christ, who strengthens me.

Not Me! Monday-almost-Tuesday

You know the drill. MckMama has a blog carnival. I write. Here goes.

First off, I would like to say that I am not in the least bit disappointed that MckMama selected a new Not Me! Monday button that no longer matches my blog colors. I did not briefly mention my love for the old button in this post. Because really, who cares if the buttons I post to my blog match the template colors? I am not considering copying the html code from the old button and continuing to use it in rebellion. Not me...

My husband and I did not each spend about 20 minutes last night searching our house for our beloved stool that is supposed to live in our bedroom. Said stool could have potentially been used for perching upon while washing our handful of very dirty children in our oversized master bathtub. But the two of us did not spend a good chunk of the evening looking for the silly thing...and we certainly did not find it in a very conspicuous place like the middle of our kitchen.

I did not freak out at a rest stop on our way home from Durham because I thought my dear husband had gotten out of the van without putting it in park. I did not yell and nearly jump out of the car only to realize that it was the Jeep beside us moving and that we were perfectly safe. I would never do such a thing.

I did not begrudge my children one bit for deciding they wanted the same thing for lunch that hubby and I did. In fact, sharing food among the five of us is never a problem because I would never be caught with only one can (yes, can) of tomato soup and only enough cheese to make two grilled cheese sandwiches. I'm on top of my stockpile like that.

So...what are you proud to admit you didn't do this week?

A Week of Mayhem

So...is anyone else's week as crazy as mine??? Last Friday we came back from the beach, so the house was a mess for a full three days. On Tuesday afternoon I left for Columbia, SC to attend my sister's graduation from basic training. She is now a card-carrying member of the Army National Guard! Thursday I returned home around 3:30 and we were all repacked and on the road again before 5:30. Yeah.

Several things were forgotten in that repacking process, I might add. Important things. Things we should never leave home without. But I digress.

Tonight we're having a night on the town with some real-live-grown-up friends and then tomorrow, as you may have guessed, we'll be back in the car. Again. Oh my.

I want to post about my sister's graduation and what an incredibly big deal I found that to be. I want to post about nearly 48 hours spent with my mother. And I want to post something about God's provision of mercy, love, and comfort. But for the moment, I am still a bit jet-lagged (or car-lagged, as the case may be) and our real-live-grown-up friends will be arriving soon to pick us up for a night of dinner and...well I don't know what for sure but I've heard rumors of miniature golf. I predict my husband will win. :D

You have not 'cause you eat not.

The title is a great example of my husband's vast...wisdom. :)

My husband is not a pig by any means, but he does enjoy his food...and his snacks...and sometimes the snacks of those around him. Apparently my children are picking up on this, as Sara Beth (in her most serious 3-year-old voice) warned me today while we were loading the car at Harris Teeter:

Mama, when we get home we hafta keep the fruit nuggets a srecret so Daddy won't eat 'em all.

Fruit nuggets, by the way, are a bit hard to describe...they look almost like Chicklets (remember those???) except they're chewy and made from organic fruit and fruit juice. So not quite fruit snacks but not quite fruit either. The strawberry ones are yummy, if I do say so myself!

And for reference, I only ate the one my son offered me. :D