Stop Signs

In the fast paced nature that is our world now, there are very few times when we welcome stop signs.  We see it coming.  We know it's there.  We will make the required brief pause, but we don't want to linger too long because we have a destination in mind.  We want to roll through.  We have things to do and people to see.  Schedules to keep and better places to go.  We stop, but we don't want to sit. 

Like roads, life seems to be freckled with various stop signs along the journey. And just as with roads, it is rare that we actually take pause and sit and reflect at these life stop signs.

We so often just go day to day accustomed to our routines and working our way through fully planned calendars, that we fail to stop and reflect on what it is that makes our lives worth living.  All the while the sands of time are so quickly sliding through our unaware, busy fingers. 

These small pauses of reflection come naturally at certain stop signs along the road of life.  The first memorable stop sign for me was my highschool graduation.  My reflective mood seemed to start brewing at the beginning of my senior year and percolated all the way up to graduation night where I was just one giant ball of reflecting emotions sitting at the stop sign.

You see, I didn't have the typical tormented high school experience.  Oh, it had its moments, but overall, I loved high school.  LOVED it.  Not the homework.  Not the classes.  Not the sports (I didn't play). Not the boyfriends (I didn't date).  No, I loved highschool because I was given a gift.

In seventh grade I was given a core group of 3 close friends who would eventually help to mold who I became.  The Lord knew what he was doing when He put them in my life.  He knew who to put around me to meet me at some of life's upcoming stop signs.  

We spent 6 years together. Cramming for tests.  Complaining about teachers.  Creating inside jokes. Liking this boy.  Hating that boy.  Liking this boy again.  We spent  birthdays and breaks together.  We shared secrets.  We swapped houses from weekend to weekend.  We had four moms among us that were like moms to us all.  We talked.  We laughed.  We cried.  We laughed til we cried.  We bonded.  

It would take pages upon pages to describe the bond.  To record the memories.  To detail the impact these girls and these years had on my life. 

And then it all culminated in that one night.  That first big stop sign in life.  There was both sadness and excitement.  Both looking back and looking forward.  Thinking of what was and what was to come.  Promises to stay in touch.  Many hugs.  Many more tears.  We paused and reflected and oh-so-suddenly, we graduated.  

We entered the college years.  And as it happens with most high school friendships, our pre-graduation promises led to post-graduation reality.  We'd get together for lunch.  We'd have the occasional reminiscent slumber party.  We'd meet up for coffee and dessert.  Efforts to stay in touch dwindled slowly over the years until we became friends who only saw each other at those other big life stop signs.  

One by one we celebrated engagements and wedding showers.  We saw each other married off.  We cheered for pregnancy announcements and showered each other with baby gifts.  Each time we got together we would pick up where we left off.  Sharing more laughs.  Crying a few tears.  And inevitably voicing regret over lost time, making promises to do better in the years to come, and falling back into old patterns of individually busy lives.

And then it happens. You get the call or read the text and at this stop sign, the busy of life just stops.  You realize one of your precious friends has been hit with a really BIG life changing moment.  The moment that changes life through a life that has ended.  Your friend has lost a parent.  Your friend has lost her mom. 

You take a deep breath and you approach this unwanted stop sign in the road.  This particular pause in the journey has a way of hitting you like no other.  In dealing with death you are forced to reflect on life.  

Last night as we four friends stood there together in the funeral home, I was suddenly overwhelmed by how quickly time has passed.  We weren't supposed to me making a stop here already.  We were just celebrating graduations and weddings and births... We liked to meet at those stop signs.  But at this is one we'd rather keep rolling through.  We don't like this stop.  And yet, we all showed up.  

We were there because we all understood the gift we were given all those many years ago. 

We once again picked up where we had left off.  We shared hugs.  We shed tears.  We shed even more tears.  We reminisced and reflected and laughed to lighten the mood.  We clenched our fists despite that slipping sand of time and for a moment it slowed down and the busy of life went away.  We reflected. 

We came to a complete stop.  

And we sat at the stop sign. 

Together.

Our Reality-Dream Home

Have you ever driven by a house and wondered what it looked like inside?  Ever just wanted to knock on a door and ask for a tour?  Or are you obsessed with before and after shots of room re-do's?  If so, you are a girl (or guy) after my own heart! 


 I've always been curious about what people's homes look like inside.  I've never gone so far as to knock on a door, but I have squinted my eyes to peer in a window or two as I drive by.  (A good reason, by the way, for you to invest in blinds... for those other interior drive-by peepers like me.) 

I was lucky growing up working with my dad, The Window Washer, I got to see the interiors of many large, impressive homes.  Even in my teenage years I was interested in art and home decor and loved dreaming about my future home as I walked from room to room looking around washing windows. 


Then in highschool I discovered the show Trading Spaces.  Remember that one?  This was before Ty Pennington was on Extreme Makeover Home Edition, and was the energetic carpenter for a variety of quirky designers.  It was this show that got me addicted to room make overs.  There are other great shows now, but this was an original, and it showed you how to do it on a budget.  And that's what I need... interesting ideas and ways to do it on a budget.  Now, I've never covered a wall with hay, or wine labels (yes, those were real episodes), but my love for color and lack of plain white or beige walls in my home now probably stems from this show I watched so many years ago. 

I did my first room make over in college, after my older sister had gotten married, and I had my own room in my parent's house for the first time in my life.  It was nothing extravagant.  I sponge painted the walls (yep, it was the 90's) and bought my first bedroom set with my own money, and bought a new bedding and curtain ensemble.  It wasn't much, but it was enough for my mom to trust me to help her with some more rooms in the house.  Ultimately, I redid her living room and hallway, her dining room, and two bathrooms.  I was bitten by the redecorating bug. 

I have no interior design training.  I wish I did.  What I do have is an inherited love for decorating, an artistic eye, and an ability to see things for what they could be.

The ability to see potential "before and afters" in rooms collided with my love for peering into people's homes when we started our house hunt 6 years ago.  Not counting the homes that I viewed on line or the ones I dragged my mom along for a drive-by, we actually toured over 50 houses looking for our home.  It took 6 months. 

In August of 2006, I planned a group of houses to look at with my mom, then 13 month old Ava, and our realtor, Al.  Our typical house hunting dates would consist of 4 or 5 house viewings in a particular area.  After striking the first 2 houses off the list, we headed to #3. 

And on this day, the third time was a charm!

We drove down a dead end street, pulled into a driveway, and then... the clouds parted, rays of sun shone down, and there was a hint of the hallelujah chorus ringing in my ears... 

OK, so not really, but there was a huge smile on my face before we even unlocked the front door.  I just had "that feeling" that this would be our house. 

We entered the house and were greeted by an abundance of space, sunlight, and a lot of country blue.  If you know me, you know blue is NOT my favorite color, especially not country blue.  But I was unphased.  I looked past the wallpaper that reminded me of one of my jr. high choir dresses, I ignored the hole dug into the carpet by the dog, and I visually replaced the ugly ceiling fans and builder basic lighting fixtures.  I saw the potential that this house could have. I walked from room to room picturing our future in this house.  I was hooked.  I was in love.  Now it just had to pass one test- the husband test. 

I'm sure you've figured out the ending to this story.  Shannon didn't see the sunbeams or hear the chorus, but he did like the house.  More than that, he loves me and knew how much I loved the house.  We prayed about it, thought about it, made an offer on it, and in October of '06, we closed on our house home. 

We had one month between closing and moving in.  One month to put my Trading Spaces well of knowledge into practice.  One month to remove all white walls and wallpaper.  One month to replace flooring and paint over country blue.  One month of little sleep and lots of work.  One month to transform someone else's house into our home.  

A lot was accomplished in that month, and there have been several more changes, tweaks, and additions over the last five years.  The most recent of which was a total kitchen over haul.  But rather than continuing to tell you about it, would you like to see it?  I won't make you do a slow drive by trying to peer through my blinds.  You don't even have to knock on my door and ask for a tour.  I'm inviting you in.  :) 

I don't claim to have a house worthy of HGTV, nor have we had the budget of a real designer, (and I have a feeling I will always have a list of projects and changes that I want to make), but I do love our home.  It's our "reality-dream home".  A true dream home would be out of our grasp, so this is the home that has fulfilled our dreams in real life.  It's our reality-dream home.  So grab a cup of coffee and over the next few posts,  I'll show you around.

Let's start with the driveway.  Let's start with that very first view that parted clouds and brought rays of sunshine to my soul.  I don't expect you to have the same experience, but maybe you will see why we loved this house.

All it's missing is a green roof, some farm land, and a "lake of shining waters"... yes, I may have been drawn to this house because of my love of Anne of Green Gables and the similarities I saw between the the movie house and this house.  We looked at many newer constructions but none of them caught me with curb appeal in the drive way like this one did.  I must be a country girl at heart.  The full front porch and gazebo packed so much charm.  It almost wouldn't have mattered what I saw when I opened the front door that first time. 
                                                                                     Here's the Anne of Green Gables house. 

Ok, so they don't look exactly alike...

But you get the picture...










But for the what I found when I opened that door, you will have to wait...  I think it's bedtime.  :)

No Pain, No Gain

I ran today. 

Those are 3 words I haven't said since... well, 9th grade P.E. class, maybe....

Yep, I ran today. 

I wasn't being chased by a "boogie man", nor was I chasing one of my kids. Because that's really the only reasons one should run, right?  Well, that's what I've always thought!  I'm not sure I don't still think that a little bit... but...

I ran today.

I hate running.  HATE it.  Running to me is:  Aching knees.  Exploding lungs.  Shooting pains in my side.  Splitting shins.

Why put myself through this torture?

Well, there came this little class at church.  "Run for God".  A running class for beginners.  And there came my sister who told me "we should take this class together!"  I agreed to go to the first meeting "just to see"... I left the first meeting signed up for the class.  Blast you, peer pressure!

So I ran today.

This was our second beginner's run. 

It went better than the first.

I still did not love it.

But- I ran today.

I ran for health.

I ran for a better me.

I RAN FOR GOD.

Now, goodnight ya'll... I'm beat!

A God Moment

Don't you just love the "aha" moments in life?  Well, I had one of those tonight.  Otherwise known as a God Moment! 


I attended our Sunday School ladies Bible study tonight.  We have a small group that meets every other Tuesday night, and we just started a new study entitled "Jonah- Navigating a Life Interrupted". 


Just from the title I was a little cautious about this study.  You know the old saying, "Don't pray for patience...", well, that's how I felt.  I certainly didn't want to study about life interruptions, because I felt it would be an open invitation for God to send a few my way.


I missed the introductory session and video of the study.  Sickness.  Bleh...  So without any in depth thought put into it, my internal dialogue going into the week's homework was as follows:
    
      "Hhhmmm... life interrupted?  I wonder how this will apply to me?  I feel like my life is somewhat calm right now... somewhat.... I sure hope I'm not doing this study because God is preparing me for something He's planning... something He wants to interrupt...  I don't like change... I don't like being interrupted...."


Great attitude, right?  What can I say... I'm human. 


So I started into the homework.  I applaud the author, Priscilla Shirer, for not making it too difficult or tedious, but still, there are some thought provoking questions.  I don't know why, but it always takes me FOREVER to answer some of the simplest questions in these books.  Like this one from day one of the homework: 


"What are some of your life goals that you've yet to see become a reality?" 


Chew on that one for a minute.


"What are some of your life goals that you've yet to see become a reality?" 


You see?  Maybe it's not such a simple question after all.  Just an easily asked question, but one that is hard to answer.  At least it was for me. 


Why so hard to answer?  Maybe because I am living "the dream life".  I have a wonderful husband, beautiful kids, a nice home, a loving church family... there really isn't anything I feel I should "complain" about.  I know of so many families with serious health concerns, financial burdens, job struggles, marital problems... REAL heartbreaking issues... and anything I would answer the question with personally, pales in comparison.


I  didn't want to answer it because my list of unrealized life goals would seem petty.  But I couldn't leave the space blank, so I thought... and thought... and finally put aside my fear of answering with something insignificant and wrote this real-life, unrealized goal:


"Sending my kids to a private, Christian school."


I was sure that this would be balked at.  It was not a "major enough" issue.  It certainly shouldn't be anything I should be upset over.  There were bound to be more dramatic answers from others... My answer would be viewed as a frivolous "want", not a dashed dream.  There are surely more serious issues in life to get upset over.  


That is all true.  There are many more struggles out there than what I can personally fathom...


But it didn't ask me to answer for anyone else but me. 


And I shouldn't compare my life to others, or my Bible study answers to others. (And yet I do.  Again, it's that human side of me.)


So there it was.  My unrealized dream.  My current life disappointment.  And throughout the course of me thinking about it and answering other homework questions involving it, I came to realize I view it as just that.  A life disappointment. 


And here's the problem with viewing it as a life disappointment... it has affected my life's purpose.  Not being able to send my kids to a Christian school lead to my current situation- I am instead homeschooling my daughter. 


Homeschooling.


It's something I NEVER thought I would do.  To say I am a reluctant homeschooler is an understatement.  That's a blog all in itself.  But let's just say I had "views" on homeschoolers, and they weren't all flattering.  (or true, for that matter.... again, that's for another blog....)


But here I am.  A homeschooling mom. 


A homeschooling mom....


How do I feel about it?  Well, my Bible study demanded an answer. 


"In the margin list three adjectives that describe how you feel about interruptions you've faced in your life plans."


Relating this to my previous answer, my margin now bears these three words:


Frustration
Delay
Bitter


Frustration because this is not what I planned for my life.  I didn't necessarily want to be a homeschooler.  Before my kids actually reached school age, I hypothetically put it out there as an option if we couldn't afford private school, but I never thought it would be an option I would have to actually take. 


Delay because I home schooled Ava last year for K-5, but thought we'd win that lottery (not really, we don't play) or Shannon would get that promotion (still praying) or money would fall into our laps (still waiting) and by 1st grade we would send her to school.  And that's the same thing I've been thinking this year... by 2nd grade maybe we can send her to school.... just that feeling of waiting and delaying getting back to my plans. 


Bitter.  This is a tough one to describe.  No one wants to admit to feeling bitter.  But some days I do.  I know it's a privelege to get to teach your own child... think of all that extra bonding time you are getting with them.... blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah........Just think of how much more I could get done if I weren't homeschooling.  My days would be easier.  There wouldn't be that constant struggle to fit it all in.  I wouldn't have that constant feeling that I was failing and falling short at what I think other homeschooling moms must be great at.  I might have more "me" time.  I could have the mornings to run errands and devote more time to my two boys... Yes, shamefully I sometimes feel bitter that I am homeschooling. 


I am ashamed about how I feel about homeschooling.  Still, I haven't felt that it is a legitimate thing to be disappointed over, or to feel bitter over, or to feel "interrupted" by.  So I don't say much about it.  I just do it.  Day after day I go through the motions and I do.  And I put aside all of those above feelings because certainly they are trivial.  Certainly not legitimate.


And then as we sat and watched the video tonight, I was hit with my aha-moment.  (You were wondering when I was going to get to that, weren't you?)


I wish I could remember exactly what she said, but a great memory is not my boasting point.  As best I can remember, she was speaking about some of those possible life interruptions that we as the viewers might relate to.  Her list paralleled much of my list above.  You know, the BIG ones: 


Maybe you planned on being married, but still find yourself single.  Maybe you want kids but are childless...   Maybe you based your life around a career and making money and found yourself called into ministry or the mission field....


Truthfully, as she listed more I momentarily tuned out.  I wasn't relating.  I was thinking back to the answer I had written in my book and beating myself up about feeling frustrated, delayed, and bitter over what wasn't a "real" problem. 


And then I snapped back into the present when I heard this final example coming from the speaker- not word for word, but the gist of what was said:


Maybe are a stay at home mom.  You have young kids.  You are tired and stressed, and were longing for the day when they would reach that magical age and you could send them off to school.  You knew at least you would have that time everyday- that 8 to 3 window- and you would get a break.  You were so looking forward to that break, and then- God called you to home school....


Say what?? ...............


Did  she just list homeschooling as an unexpected change in life's plans? 


Did she just legitimize my "minor" life interruption??


Had I not been in a room with other women trying to get their own meat from the message, I would have boo-hooed right then and there.  As it were, I quietly dabbed a few tears before they were able to escape my eyes.  


It was as if God Himself had reached through that screen, put His arm around my shoulder and told me it was ok to feel the way I had been feeling.  I had a legitimate reason to feel interrupted.


From that point in the video I was alert and attentive.  But that poor memory of mine lives on.  I can't tell you any direct words that were spoken, but I can relay that I could sense that God was using those words to start a change in my heart. 


The biggest heart change might spark from this change in thought. 


She explained the difference between viewing life and goal changes as being interrupted vs. divinely intervened. God is not  interrupting our lives for sport.  He is divinely intervening in our lives for a purpose.  And this is a quote- from the book- "Our significance, at least the kind that will leave an eternal mark, can only really be found in how fully we yield to God's purposes for our lives." 


Aha again!  That's it.  I haven't been yielding.  I wasn't looking at this change in my plans as a divine intervention.   


For the past year and a half I have been viewing my current state of homeschooling as a "for now" situation.  I'm doing this "for now", but surely this isn't His ultimate plan for us.   


But in that "it's only for now" viewpoint, I disregarded the fact that homeschooling is truly what God has asked me to do right now. 


To continue to buck it and view it as temporary "until we can afford Christian school" is to miss out on the now.  To miss the fact that He asked it of me is to miss that He called me to home school.  If I don't view it as His calling, I will likely miss His purposes behind it.  If I don't view it as His calling, I'm not yielding to Him to discover what those purposes are. 


Bottom-line:  I am a homeschooling mom because God has called me to be so.  Whether it's just for now or ends up being forever. 


Aha!  I have been so much like Jonah.  Ready to jump on that ship in the opposite direction (away from homeschooling) as soon as the opportunity would come.  Trying to run from what I feared might be God's calling on my life by labeling it as a "temporary interruption".  


Yikes.  We know what happened to Jonah when he ran. 


My final aha-God-moment came tonight in realizing that I need to stop trying to run.  Am I saying I'm certain God wants me to homeschool all 3 kids through graduation?  No... truthfully, I'm still secretly hoping not.... 


I just realize that I need to embrace where God has me "for now" and pray that He will change the desires of my heart to be in line with His desires and plans for my life for-ever- whatever that plan ends up being.  And pray that I will obey His call and do it cheerfully.   


Wow. 


This is just week one. 


 I'm no longer fearful of what interruptions this study might bring on. 


 I'm pretty excited about the changes God is making in my heart already.


All through a life interrupted intervened.

All of What?

Last Monday was a rough day.

I woke up as I do most other days.  More tired than I felt I should be, and with more to do in the day than what I had the time or energy to do it all with.  I started my day already feeling behind.

In the midst of feeding the kids breakfast, doing school work with Ava, tackling the never-ending piles of laundry, changing the antibiotic-caused-diarrhea-diapers, listening to the whining, breaking up arguments, and wiping runny noses, I soon came to realize that I had another thing I would have to add to my day. 

Yet another doctor's appointment. 

I am not one of those "run-to-the-doctor-if-my-kid-sneezes" kind of mom.  I am more of the "wait-it-out-and-see-what-develops" kind of mom.  I became this latter type at some point during my early years as a mom of one.  When you are a mom to one you do worry if your child has a fever or runny nose...  But it only takes a few appointments of being told:

"This is viral. There is nothing we can do for it.  You'll just have to wait it out, (But thanks for coming so we can still charge you and your insurance for this unnecessary visit.)"

before you transform into the "wait and see" mom.


But this self-proclaimed "wait and see" mom has been to the doctor 5 times with sick or injured kids already this year.  We're still in the first month.  I'm sure I'm not breaking any records here, but this is not our norm, and last Monday, making yet another doctor visit was the last thing I wanted to do. There is always that fear of a "wasted trip" and no remedy to the ailment that sent you there.   After listening to that internal debate waging within between the two afore mentioned types of moms... go now... wait and see... go now... wait and see...  I finally decided to call Shannon for confirmation that I should indeed take Micah to the doctor.  After hearing the update on his symptoms, Daddy confirmed a doctor's appointment was valid.

 So I made the next necessary calls- one to the doctor to schedule an appointment and one to my parents to ask for help with my other two kids.  Mom agreed to meet me there and keep Ava and Josiah in the van during the appointment.  The last thing I wanted to do was take them into the sick waiting room and the sick check-up rooms to be exposed to some germs that would infect them and bring us back to the doctor yet again with something new.  I think this is how Micah got sick to begin with.  I had just been to the doctor with Josiah the previous Friday and had my 2 other (healthy-at-the-time) kids tagging along... and as much as I tried to keep Micah and Ava from touching things, they're kids.  That's what they do best.  And I just KNOW that's where he got his illness that had us back there on Monday for him.  There's serious potential for a vicious cycle here... Perhaps it's a doctor conspiracy?  To keep them in business??....

Anyway, I digress....

We finally made it to the doctor after the typical rush of getting us all out of the door.  I've been the mother of 3 for 15 months now, but I am still floored everyday that it takes 5 years to get us all loaded up in the van.  I exaggerate, but seriously... it could be an Olympic event.  Make the athletes get a van loaded up with kids and all their stuff.  Time them.  Fastest time wins!

I'm so glad I rushed to get there too.  Just to sit.  And wait.  Oh, we got called out of the waiting room and into the exam room in a timely-enough manner.  Weight was taken, temperature checked, preliminary nurse questions asked, strep test taken.  I was foolishly encouraged and thought this would be a quick visit.  And then we sat.  And we waited.  And we sat.  And we played Angry Birds.  And we sat and waited some more. I had to go to the bathroom, but dared not leave the room.  You know, in case the doctor came by at that exact time that we were in the restroom and rather than wait 2 minutes for us, he'd move on to the next room and get back to us later.

50 minutes later without even a peek-in-update from a nurse, I finally opened the door.  I was certain we had been forgotten in that room.  I'm not entirely sure I'm wrong about that either.  This was a time I was wishing I was the more assertive type.  It would have been easy enough to catch the receptionist's attention and ask how much longer it would be.  But I am always so afraid of being thought of as "pushy".  I was thankful that Micah was being good, and that I wasn't having to keep an eye on my other two, but I was aware that my mom was having to keep them occupied...  in the van, ... in the parking lot.  And yet I just sat there and steamed silently inside, thinking of all the things I'd like to say about how ridiculous doctor waits are.

(At the very least during my wait I concluded that nurses could take a few cues from waitresses... If they know you are in for a long wait, they should come by your room periodically with an update.  Like, "I just put your strep test order in to the doctor.  We've had a heavy volume of strep-test requests today, so it may be a while before the lab can get your order,... er, results,... to your table... er,... room.  Would you like a complimentary basket of bread while you wait?"  Wouldn't this make doctor's visits more tolerable??)

15 minutes after having the door open, my passive-aggressive self finally moved closer to the doorway and paced back and forth in front of it.  The nurse half-way passed by once and I swear I heard her say, "Oh!" as though she'd forgotten something, and within 5 minutes, the doctor was in my room. 

Nearly an hour and a half of waiting, and 5 minutes with the doctor later, we had a diagnosis of strep.  Since Micah had just finished an antibiotic for an ear infection, I wanted to avoid the medicine regimen and asked for the one time shot. 

Upon hearing that he was getting a shot in his bum, poor Micah got so upset that he threw up.  Of course there was no puke bowl in the room and no nurse in sight.  Seeing that the trash can was nearly full, I rushed him to the sink.... which had tiny little holes meant only for water to pass through... which meant I had to clean up the chunks that would not pass through these holes.  Lovely. 

The nurse returned with the shot, and a few traumatizing moments later, we were free to go on our way. 

After getting home we were all tired, cranky, and no one had napped.  We made it through dinner prep, eating dinner, cleaning up, and part of a family game before realizing that Micah's fever had spiked to 104.  We've never seen 104 in this family so far, so it sent me into an internal panic.  "Wait and see" mom then turned into "call the off-hours doctor line" mom.  An intense hour and a half later, his fever finally started going down and I put him to bed on the floor in our room. 

I wearily came back to the couch, sank down into it, and let out a deep breath that seemed to encapsulate the exhaustion of my day.  Shannon sweetly looked over at me and made the following comment {which drove me to write this (too long) blog entry to begin with}: 

"Thank you for all you do." 

I stared back at him for a second and then I wearily replied with the pat, "You're welcome."

He proceeded to kiss me goodnight and started to head off to bed.  But then my mouth opened and asked the question, "All of what?" 

This question threw him off for a second, but he proceeded to list what he perceived to be my day's accomplishments and his appreciation for each.

I must admit his list was longer than mine would have been.

 In my exhausted mind, I had sunk down into that couch thinking about how wrong my day had gone.  Thinking of how much I hadn't gotten done.  Worrying about poor Micah.  Worrying about my other kids potentially getting sick.  Worrying that I couldn't sterilize the house enough to prevent my other kids from getting sick.  Thinking that I should have done something to prevent Micah's fever from spiking. Worrying that Micah would have a rough night.  Worrying that I would have a rough night.  Thinking that I should be folding laundry rather than taking this moment to worry.  Thinking about all that I needed to do the following day to make up for my day being interrupted today.  Basically, the enemy was just using that brief moment of sinking-couch-reflection to give his final blow to my day and leave me feeling discouraged and defeated. 



So I asked "all of what".


I didn't ask him for specifics so that he could make a list and pat me on the back for "all that I do". 


I didn't ask him so that he would be reminded of how much he should appreciate me. 


I asked because I needed to be reminded.

I needed to hear the events from my day from someone else's point of view.

I needed to quiet that negative, nagging "all that I didn't" voice in my head.

 I needed to see the "all of what" I had done that day and find an appreciation for myself in the midst of it.


Shannon went to bed and I sat and reflected.  The quiet voice of the Holy Spirit within could finally be heard over the self-abusive voice that had just been laid to rest.  I was reminded that not every day is going to go according to plan.  That my "to-do-list" will never be "done".  I was reminded that I had done my best to survive the day, and I was gently chastised for not relying on the One who could have made my day easier. 

The week continued to be hard, Micah continued to be sick, and I continued to reflect on that simple phrase- "all of what" (which is probably not  even grammatically correct... but it's what I said.) 

I started to feel selfish for needing that reassurance on that day.  I started to think of how often I don't fully express my appreciation for others or for my Father. 

Maybe I didn't need to be reminded of my "all of whats" after all.  Maybe I needed to be reminded of all of His.  I needed to be reminded of all that He can accomplish in me and through me by putting me through those hard days.  I should be the one thanking Him for "all that He does".  And all too often, that's where I stop. 

"Thank you, Lord, for this day.  And thank you for all that You are and all that You do." 

From now on I hope I will be reminded to list for Him the "all of what" behind that.  But in this case it's not because He needs the encouragement.  It's because I need to be reminded of  exactly who my God is and ALL THAT HE DOES in my life.

It's simple.  Days get hard. Life gets rough.  But if we can get specific in our appreciation for others and most importantly, our appreciation for our Savior, we can learn to live life with thanksgiving.  Even on "those days". 

Next time you pray and thank the Lord for "all He does", imagine Him asking you "all of what?", and have fun answering Him with a long list of praise!

"Dear Journal,"

When I was little I had ambitions to be a many number of things.  A nurse, a missionary, a teacher, an actress, a singer (ha!), a dancer (double ha!), a wife, a mother, and finally, a writer.  I could take the time now to fill paragraphs and paragraphs about how I am now living my dreams, even if only in small or abstract ways, and fulfilling each of those childhood aspirations.  Maybe you'll see those posts someday.  But this particular post, my FIRST as a "blogger", is dedicated to that last love of mine.

Writing.

I can't say for sure when this love for writing originated, but I remember starting my very first journal (I thought it uncool to call it a diary) in the 5th grade.  It was small, pink, and it had a tiny lock and key.  And with that first journal, my world of writing was unlocked. 

I was painfully shy and quiet as a young girl, and writing not only gave me a way to record my life happenings, it also gave a voice to my feelings. (Which in 5th grade consisted of 3 sentences per entry on which boy I liked and whether or not he had paid attention to me that day.  Hey, I didn't say they were deep, thought-provoking feelings...)

I went on to keep a journal off and on throughout Jr. High, High school, and on into College.  In waves of sentimentality I've gone back and read through a few of them.  It's amazing the clarity and growing wisdom that comes with age.... Praise the Lord!.... and that's all I'm going to say about that! 

My final written journal was penned to my hubby. My prince charming.  My life's love.  My Shannon.  I started it after only 2 weeks of dating.  I knew after the very first date that he was unlike any man I had ever gone out with.  I didn't KNOW we would end up married, but I had a good idea. 

At that time I had gotten out of the habit of keeping a journal for myself.  (Why?  Confession: my journals were mostly filled with teenage boy troubles.  Embarrassing silly stuff to read.  Really.  Which is why no one else is permitted to read them.  REALLY!)  Anyway...  after finding Mr. Right, I really didn't have any heartache or angst to work out on paper by journaling...  But I did want to preserve those wonderful, euphoric feelings that come with new love, and keep a remembrance of the beginning of our love story together. So I didn't write to my journal, I wrote to my future hubby.  It's basically a year's worth of love letters.  I gave it to him on our wedding night.  (But no, he didn't read it that night... Though that would make a romantic moment in a movie... but we live in reality, and we had waited for that night... and I do mean waited... and ummmm....)  ....Ahem... Moving on.... 

Fast forward to today.  I am a happily married woman of 8 years, I have 3 beautiful children, and a blessed life by all accounts.  But I keep no journal.  Frankly, I can't remember the last time I even sat down to hand write anything longer than a shopping list, so keeping a traditional journal is out of the question.  And yet that underlying desire to get my thoughts and feeling out through the written word remains.  Facebook has served as my abbreviated writing outlet for a while now, but sometimes it's tough to condense a day's events into a status update.  So here I go.  Into the world of blogging...

What will my blog contain?  I guess it will be like my modern day journal.  Only instead of hiding it under my mattress, I'm sending out into cyberspace for all (or just my mom and maybe a few friends) to read.  It will be a way to record my daily (or weekly or monthly) moments, thoughts, feelings and events.  You are welcome to read it, or not.  Some of it will be geared for other's reading enjoyment, I'm sure, but with my poor memory and the enormous amount of brain cells I've lost since having kids, heaven knows I need a way to remember these years of my life!

So, it is mostly for me. 

This is my journal.

To capture the Misty Moments that make up my life.