Turning 39 For The First Time

A couple of weeks ago I turned 39...for the first time. I don't know what it is. I LOVED turning 30. I looked forward to it. I wrote about what a great day it was here. For some reason, now that my 30's are drawing to an end, I'm not getting quite the same excitement about turning 40 next year. I'm kinda thinking there's a lot to accomplish before then.

I went for a full physical last year and I'll never forget my conversation with the doctor.

Doctor: Well, your BMI is a little higher than it should be...
Me: Mmmm hmmm.
Doctor: But as you approach middle age that's a little more normal.
Me: I'm sorry...did you just call me middle aged?

Now, I have had a GREAT life so far. We have been so blessed. But now I'm looking forward and wondering what's ahead. I think that's a fairly normal part of being a stay-at-home mom whose kids will both be in school soon. What will I do then? I didn't consciously think about certain things I wanted to achieve before I turn 39 for the second time (some people call it 40 but whatever). But I do have a "bucket list". You know, things I'd like to do...well...one day. I thought I'd share it with you. It's not necessarily in order of importance and I'll go ahead and tell you it's not especially deep. Most of it's not serious, spiritual, character changing type stuff. Some of it is just stuff I'd like to do...just because.

See the Holy Land
Stay in an Irish cottage and visit lots of pubs
Eat something with black truffles
Memorize one book of the Bible
Gaze at the ceiling of the Sistine chapel
Give to someone in a way that changes their life
See the Great Wall of China in person
Drive Route 66
Fly on a trapeze
Learn Italian
Audition for something
Learn to salsa
Write a book
Sing karaoke solo
Be completely debt free including the house

Now, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be debt free including the house in the next year. I'm not even sure I'm going to be debt free except for the house next year. But I'd like to cross something off my list before I turn 39...again. Do you have an opinion? Suggestion? Favorite? Addition? Let me know. It's time for me to get going on this list.

I'd also like to leave you, young and middle-aged alike, with a few things I did in my 30's that I'd recommend for your bucket list if you have one.

Have a couple of babies.
Take a trip to the Grand Canyon on a train with a sleeper car.
Make a job change.
Move to a new city.
Go to St. Lucia and have Delbert plan a day excursion for you.
Throw a surprise party for someone you love.
Go to New York City at Christmastime.
Go to a high school reunion.

You Snooze...You Lose

Or so I hope anyway.

A while back I wrote a post called We're Breaking Up about my struggles with my weight. I have this...shall we say...bootylicious problem that I continue to struggle with. Anyway, this past Monday, The Today Show on NBC did a story on how your sleep habits affect your weight. I heard about it from a friend (I'm a Good Morning America gal) and had to check it out.

Apparently everyone (but me) knows that lack of sleep can contribute to weight gain and getting the right amount of sleep can actually help you lose weight. What?!?! So all I have to do is sleep MORE and I'll lose weight? Of the women who participated in the study, nearly all of them lost weight and one who lost no weight, still managed to lose inches! Over the course of 10 weeks they lost anywhere from 6 to 15 pounds! They made no other significant changes except to sleep at least 7 and 1/2 hours each night.

Okay, think about it. When you become a mom, it gets harder to keep your weight down...when you become a mom, you also get a lot less sleep. We live in an obese country...we live in a busy, sleep deprived country. I'm just putting two and two together people. The studies show that those who "sleep 5 hours or less a night are 30 percent more likely to gain 30+ pounds than those who got more rest". "The average woman gets 6 hours and 40 minutes." The healthy minimum is 7 hours 30 minutes! Go to the article here to read all the details. It's fascinating.

I'm a night owl. After the girls go to bed, that's MY time. Just me and Daddy. I like to savor it as long as possible so I always go to bed LATE. Unfortunately, the girls always wake up at 6:15 on the dot. I'm not missing the healthy requirement by a whole lot, but that 7.5 hours is a minimum! At this point, I have about 2 non-elastic waist pairs of pants that fit so I'm willing to try anything. And I do love to sleep.

So Monday night, my Bible Study was cancelled and I was in the bed by 8:30pm and asleep by about 9:30. That would be 9 hours of sleep...except...Little Sister was up at 4:30am. 7 hours! Just short by 1/2 an hour! I tried again Tuesday night and the SAME THING! I'm starting to think she likes me big and soft and these are her attempts to keep me that way. Finally, last night, I went to sleep at 10:00pm and the girls came downstairs at 6:15am. That's a little over 8 hours...and I feel thinner already.

So how much sleep do you get each night? And what do you think about this study?

Cream, Glorious Cream

I made it through the week of black coffee and have really been savoring drinking it the way I like it again. I hate to admit this but it really did require some self-discipline for me to drink it black. A couple of times I really thought, "This is stupid. Who cares about cream and sugar? This is a dumb exercise, I'm going to do something else." But that's what I always do. I'm very persuasive when I want to talk myself out of doing something I don't want to do.

My favorite thing about this exercise was that it started my day. First thing every morning I was reminded that I desire self-discipline. It made me think about how I need to rely on the Lord for everything in my day. I would wake up and before I ever got out of bed I would first think, "coffee" and then my next thought would be, "Lord, I need you." I'd spend a few minutes talking to God about my day and then roll out of bed to get my cup of hot dirt.

But it's not about the coffee. It's about developing self-discipline and I've had an "Aha!" moment that I'll share in my next post. The coffee was the specific challenge but I've been trying to exercise self-discipline in many areas. For now, I figure it's time to up the ante and do another, slightly more challenging, exercise. I've struggled to think of something good. I really want to do something this time that matters. Something that might stick or at least be a baby step in the right direction. Something that will get me what I really want in the long run. So I'm asking you to vote. I'm not sure if there are enough of you reading to make this work but I'm going to throw out three ideas and have you vote. Whichever exercise gets the most votes will be the one I tackle. So here it goes...

1. Leave at least one bite of anything I eat. (I'm a plate cleaner so this could be a real challenge)
2. Get up at 6:00am whether anyone else is up or not...and NO NAPS. (I'm a night owl)
3. Spend NO money for one week. (Not even $1 for coffee at the church's coffee stand)

Okay, so my parents are laughing right now. Which give me another good idea. As a second part to the challenge, I vow not to complain...at all...no matter what...at least not out loud...or at least not about the exercise anyway. Can you see why I need this self-discipline? Anyway, voting will end on Sunday night (in case I need to get up at 6:00am Monday) and then I'll get started. Thanks for your support. I love hearing your words and how you are being challenged. Hang in there!

Sanctuary

This week I was able to really put into practice a lesson I learned early in our marriage. I learned to make my home a sanctuary.

Early in our marriage I had lots of ideas and expectations. Unfortunately, my husband is not a mind reader so any time he fell short of those expectations I made him miserable. When he had a stressful day at work and the boss kept him late was often the same night I prepared an elaborate meal and made plans for us to go out and do something fun. (That was when we had no kids, two jobs, time, and money) Anyway, the dinner would go cold, we'd have missed the movie, and the more minutes that ticked by, the worse it would get. Concern would turn to irritation, irritation to frustration, frustration to anger, and anger to bitterness. By the time he walked in the door, he didn't stand a chance. As you can imagine, after a couple of years, home wasn't a place he looked forward to at the end of the day. If his day at work was difficult, he knew that often his home would be worse. He would often stay later to avoid it which made me madder. When given the silent treatment, he often gave the silent treatment...probably just grateful that he wasn't being nagged to death. Irritation turned to frustration, frustration to anger, and...you get the picture.

Thankfully, through a series of events, and often painful pruning, the Lord spoke to my heart. I learned that if I wanted things to change, I had to change. If I wanted my husband to look forward to coming home then home needed to offer something to look forward to. Our home needed to become a sanctuary. Look at the definition of sanctuary.

sanc·tu·ar·y /ˈsæŋktʃuˌɛri/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[sangk-choo-er-ee] –noun, plural -ar·ies.

1.	a sacred or holy place.

2.	Judaism. a. the Biblical tabernacle or the Temple in Jerusalem. b. the holy of holies of these places of worship.

3.	an especially holy place in a temple or church.

4.	the part of a church around the altar; the chancel.

5.	a church or other sacred place where fugitives were formerly entitled to immunity from arrest.

6.	immunity afforded by refuge in such a place.

7.	any place of refuge; asylum.

He needed a place of refuge, he needed immunity, he needed a place where he felt safe and loved and accepted. Those words did not describe our home back then. Now I'll just tell you, it didn't change overnight. After a week of holding my tongue, putting him first, letting the little stuff go...I wanted to give up. It didn't seem to be working. He was still coming home late. He was still withdrawn. Basically, he wasn't buying it. But the Lord reminded me I didn't need to change what I was doing in order to get my husband to change. I had to be who God called me to be as a wife regardless of how my husband responded. Besides, it had taken almost two years for me to teach him that home was not a refuge. It was not a place where he could feel safe and loved and accepted. He was definitely not getting immunity. It probably took another year for me to prove to him that things were going to be different. I would fail miserably some days...I still do. But as I take refuge in the Lord, our home is becoming a place of refuge for my husband.

These past couple of weeks have been rough. Work has been especially draining and challenging for him. But in those difficult moments in his day he called us for comfort. He looked to me for encouraging words and a listening ear. He couldn't wait to get home at night. Because this week when his nights were especially long, when his job was particularly frustrating, when it seemed he was being attacked on every front, he had a sanctuary.

Random Thoughts

I think it's called being an emotional eater and it's supposedly bad for you, but sometimes when your down and feeling low, you just want to eat something good. Mexican food and chocolate chip cookie dough is good for the soul in my opinion.

Is it just me, or does it seem like a backhanded compliment when a girl you graduated from high school with leaves you a note at classmates.com that says, "Wow Tracy you've changed and look fantastic! I had to click your THEN pic to make sure it was you."

For the first time in my adult life I am actually feeling the effects of a "bad economy". Teacher/coach salaries didn't increase at the same rate as gas prices. I can actually imagine a little bit what it was like to wait in bread lines. We're not going to starve by any means but why does our area have NO gas?

I volunteered at the First United Methodist consignment sale today. I don't usually do consignment sales because it's not worth the work but I made myself do it for Christmas shopping money (see above random thought). I was helping sort things when it was over. There's actually something therapeutic about putting the clothes in number order and then stacking them neatly underneath the consignor's numbers around the room. Bringing order to so much chaos was surprisingly satisfying. In one small corner of the world, everything is as it should be...and I made it that way.

I always read magazines from back to front. Why save the best for last? You might not get there. Look at any magazine table of contents and you'll find the article you're looking for is probably somewhere in the last third of the magazine.

It seems to make no difference what time I put the girls to bed. Whether it's 8:00p.m. or 10:00p.m. they will wake up on the dot at 6:00a.m. However, the bedtimes seem to have a profound effect on me.

I'm thankful that pasta is so cheap. It's one of my favorites. Everyone in my family loves it. It cooks up quick. You can add almost anything to it. Variety baby. And it's soooo cheap!

Imagine your husband does his job while thousands of people watch and judge. Imagine they feel free to comment on everything he says and does even though they don't know anything about the intricacies of a job he is highly qualified to do and at which they would fail miserably. Imagine they even yell out rude comments in front of you and your children. Imagine he has a bad month and they print his sales stats in the paper. Now imagine his total job success rides on 14-17 year old boys doing exactly what they're supposed to do. This is my life.

Pink used to be one of my least favorite colors but now that I have two little girls, I love it. I also used to hate blue cheese dressing, green olives, and cottage cheese but now I like them all. A lot. Wonder why?

Why is it that no matter how tightly or how loosely I wrap the cord around the vacuum cleaner hooks, it always turns out that the plug ends on a curve so I can't secure it?

L.A. Confidential is a great movie. Even at 7:30 in the morning.

You know how sometimes you drive all the way from the grocery store to home and you can't remember one thing about the drive? Like you don't even know how you got there because you were on "automatic"? I have entire days like that.

If "all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players", in my scene, I'm surrounded by the most talented, beautiful, amazing cast. I wouldn't trade a single one of you.

The Choice

My brother-in-law finally got married yesterday! We love his new wife and family and it was an incredible day I will write more about later. It's today that was tough. It was today I had to make a choice.

We were all exhausted from the weekend's activities. Sunday is the morning that I usually wake up and gladly make my family a wonderful breakfast all in an effort to start the day off right. (Saturday is Daddy's day to get up) The idea was that I wanted to avoid what I experienced as a teenager. You know what I'm talking about...by the time everyone gets in the car to go to church you've had several arguments, you all hate each other, and worship is the last thing on your mind. Well, I know when the girls are teenagers, it will be a bigger challenge but I'm still hoping to set some precedents now. The girls get up EARLY and every Sunday my husband and I would both lay there praying the other would get up and deal with them. Needless to say, that system didn't work very well so that's when we came up with the Daddy does Saturday, Mama does Sunday plan. No excuses, Sunday is my day and I will set the tone, and we WILL go to church happy.

Well, I haven't been feeling well this week and though I toughed it out some yesterday, I wasn't perky this morning. I got up, made cereal (some special breakfast huh?) and went back to the bed. To make a long story short, by the time we got in the car, both girls were crying and I wanted to leave them both on the side of the road somewhere. Then the Lord reminded me. He taught me a long time ago that I don't have control over much in this world but He has given me control over one thing...my choices. I make them. I can choose the flesh, or I can choose the Spirit...but I choose. So this morning on the way to church I made a choice. I chose to use a different tone of voice with the girls. I chose encouragement over sarcasm. I chose to ignore my flesh and ask the Holy Spirit to be my guide. I sure couldn't get going in a different direction without that power. Worship was amazing. I could write another post about that alone and maybe later I will but anyway...We got home and I still didn't feel too good, so I put everyone, including myself down for a nap as soon as we walked in the door, but as I laid down, I felt victorious...at least for the moment.

Whenever I think about choice, I think about something I read by Max Lucado years ago. I thought I'd share it with you. I hope it will remind you, you can't control all the circumstances of life and you can't control all the people in your life but God has given you control over one thing and it's HUGE. He's given you control over your choices. What will you choose?

Author, MAX LUCADO

It's quiet. It's early. My coffee is hot. The sky is still black. The world is asleep. The day is coming. In a few moments the day will arrive. It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun. The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met. For the next twelve hours I will be exposed to the day's demands. It is now that I must make a choice. Because of Calvary, I am free to choose.

I choose Love.... No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose love. Today I will love God and what God loves.

I choose Joy.... I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance. I will refuse the temptation to be cynical...the tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God.

I choose Peace.... I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live.

I choose Patience.... I will overlook the inconvenience of the world. Instead of cursing the one that takes my place, I will invite him to do so. Rather than complain that the wait is too long, I will thank God for the moment to pray. Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will face them with joy and courage.

I choose Kindness.... I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.

I choose Goodness.... I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I accuse. I choose goodness.

I choose Faithfulness.... Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates will not question my word. My wife will not question my love. And my children will never fear that their father will not come home.

I choose Gentleness.... Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice, may it only be in praise. If I clench my fist, may it only be in prayer. If I make a demand, may it only be on myself.

I choose Self-Control.... I am a spiritual being. After this body is dead, my spirit will soar. I refuse to let what will rot, rule the eternal. I choose self-control. I will be drunk only by joy. I will be impassioned only by my Faith. I will be influenced only by God. I will be taught only by Christ. I choose self-control.

Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control. To these I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek His grace. And then, when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.

The Valley of Achor

I've been doing a new Bible study on women in the Bible. I learned something that first week that I haven't been able to get off my mind. We were studying Hosea and I came across a verse I hadn't read before. At least, I didn't remember it. But first, for those who aren't familiar with the story of Hosea, here's a little background.

Hosea was a prophet who married an adulterous woman. And it wasn't any accident, God told him to marry an adulterous woman. He married a woman named Gomer. As with many prophets in the Bible, Hosea's life reflected the message God spoke through him. Even the three sons Gomer bore represented part of the message. With names like Jezreel (God scatters), Lo-Ruhamah (not loved), and Lo-Ammi (not my people) it would seem the message is one of despair. Gomer represents Israel who, over and over again, turned to the worship of false gods and in essence committed spiritual adultery against the One True God. Israel was driven into a period of exile as Gomer was driven from her home. But it was for the purpose of purifying. Like only God can do, the message is not, "You've screwed up, so get out." God longs for His people to turn from their sin and He always takes them back. Hosea is ordered to continue loving Gomer. Not to tolerate her, not to put on a happy face for the outside world, not to lie about her, to continue loving her. And to go get her and bring her back. This is the message of what God does for Israel and for us.

God even changes the names of the sons to represent what He does. In Hosea 1:11, 2:1-2, He changes "God scatters" to "God sows", He changes "not my people" to "my people" and "not loved" to "my loved one". Incidentally, the name Gomer means "to complete". It comes from the root word, gamar, which means "to perfect or to finish". Cool, huh? It's easy to be hard on Gomer though. It's easy to think we're better. But Gomer represents us. We may not actually commit adultery in the sexual sense, but how often do our hearts turn to something else instead of God? He brings us back and we always find him the faithful one. Like always, it is not a story of what we do for God, we are the adulterous Gomer, it is a story of what God does for us. And one of the things He does for us is that thing I learned that I can't stop thinking about...

I can't get over Hosea 2:15.

There I will give back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.

Let me explain. While Gomer/Israel is in exile, God says "I will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope." The word "Achor" means "trouble". I will make the Valley of Trouble a door of hope. I will make your Valley of Trouble a door of hope. I can't get that image out of my mind. And I can't help but think of where that door leads. How cool that Jesus says in Revelation 3:19-20

Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.

Our hope is in Christ. And he's not just waiting behind that door, he's knocking! He's calling out, "Here I am!". Oh how I pray that when I am in the Valley of Achor, I will quickly go to the door of hope.

Now the Valley of Achor in our lives may not always be a place of discipline. Maybe sometimes it is illness, or job loss, or unexplainable tragedy, or a million other difficult and confusing times we find ourselves in. I heard a story recently of a pediatric nurse who lost some fingers on her left hand in a lawnmower accident. She is still able to work because her right hand was not affected and she often deals with children who have suffered similar injuries in lawnmower accidents. Although she has suffered with her loss, she has said she will be a nurse like never before. God says He will turn the Valley of Achor into a door of hope.

I challenge you to write a post about a time when God turned your Valley of Achor into a door of hope.

Breaking up is HARD to do!

A while back I wrote a post about breaking up with my butt. Well, I've been trying to break up with my butt for two LONG months now. It hasn't been easy. It seems like if I relax even a little bit, there it is, trying to lure me back. There have been some challenges along the way. A visit to my sister in Wilmington, NC...the Bon Jovi concert...the Preakness of course. How can a person be expected to diet while doing these things? Then there was that short but beautiful two weeks I participated in the dinner exchange. I teamed up with three other girls and each person took one day, Monday through Thursday, and made and delivered dinner to the other three families. It was kind of crazy but I love to cook and the other three days you had a wonderful meal delivered to your door. There were two major problems. The driving was killing me because we just lived too far apart. And the food!!! Not conducive to breaking up with that butt. Among the most tempting were baby back ribs, spaghetti pie with tons of oozing, melted cheese, and some kind of dessert that had snickers bars in it. Ahhhh! That stupid butt was using my friends to try and come back.

Then there's the running. I'm shocked to say, I actually started to like it. I even planned to run a 5K on Memorial Day. Eventually, I got a little muscle pull in my left quad which I continued to run with. It turned into a hip flexor pull and hurt so much it was waking me up in the night. So I stopped running for two weeks in order to let it heal. I want to feel good when I run and it was getting more and more painful every day. So, since I wouldn't be running away from my butt and regularly listening to my motivational break up music, I needed a plan. I'm a little more than halfway to my GREAT REWARD and I refuse to stop now. I also noticed that even though I was losing weight, I wasn't necessarily losing all fat. I want to get leaner so I started doing some research. EVERYTHING I read about cutting fat said you had to cut carbs. My worst nightmare. I love carbs. I love sugar. I love bread, pasta, dessert. But...that butt...I had to try something drastic.

After two days I was completely miserable. Tired, hungry, and not sure it was even working. You can eat all the meat and lean proteins you want but last night I couldn't even finish my grilled chicken breast. You can even have one of my favorite things, cheese. But woman cannot live on cheese alone. I was starting to think I could just find a way to settle for that butt. Forget the cookies and bread, I have never thought a banana sounded so good. Well, after one week of torture, I do think it might be working. I haven't weighed myself yet so we'll see but I'm willing to stick it out a little longer at this point. I will, however, be visiting my stepdad this weekend in Miami. That could be a challenge. That butt may be lurking around every corner.

With my reward in sight I keep pressing on. I started running again yesterday and the pain is back but I'm not quitting until I get to the end. I get through it by dreaming of one more thing. When I reach my goal weight I have a special day planned for myself. A day of gluttony. Is that bad? It probably is. Kind of like a one night stand with my old butt. But in my mind right now I see myself eating out three meals and baking all day. I'm making a mental list of all the indulgences.

Pancake Pantry for breakfast (Sausage and Cheese omelet with a side of pancakes)
Pizza for lunch (any pizza will do, never met a pizza I didn't like)
Mexican for dinner (again, not too picky here)

And then the sweets
Chocolate chip cookies, Caramel cake, Brownies, Blondies, Homemade ice cream, Chocolate covered strawberries (heck, chocolate covered anything), Donuts, I want it ALL!

Wow, suddenly I have visions of Veruca on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and some giant golden eggs. Truth is, I'll probably feel sick by lunchtime and that will be the end of it. Anyway, I just want one long cheat day and then back to eating like a normal person. Back to moderation and maintenance. Back to sanity and satisfaction. Here's to kissing that butt goodbye and cashing in on my great reward!

Has anyone else out there tried the no carb thing? Did it work? How did you feel? What did you eat? What are you indulgences?

Beating the Blahs

Yesterday was one of those days you just can't explain. Everything went well. The kids were fine. Everyone is healthy. But...I was in a funk. You know what I mean? Those days when you're not in the mood for any of the things you normally love and you can't figure out what's wrong with you? I couldn't figure out what I wanted to eat for dinner because nothing sounded good. I settled down with the computer intending to write for my blog and...nothing. I got nothing. I started about four different posts and worked on each for a few minutes before thinking, "Nah, I'm just not in the mood." I'm starting a new bible study on women in the bible in a couple of weeks so I decided to pull it out. The topics are things like "wives in the Bible", "mothers in the Bible", "women leaders in the Bible"... Sounds great doesn't it? I pulled it out and was all set to read about Abigail and...nothing. Again. Where's the section on bored women in the Bible? What do they do? So, I scrolled through the movies listed on ON DEMAND and though there were some movies I'd be excited about any other night, nothing seemed to peak my interest. I finally settled on an old movie I didn't want to watch and went to sleep.

Well, despite the rain, today the funk was gone. Everything seemed good. I appreciated things I normally either take for granted or have just forgotten about for a while. So here's a short list of good stuff. Stuff that makes me smile. Stuff that makes me feel warm fuzzies. Stuff that helps beat the blahs. This list is not at all spiritual and while I know there are spiritual truths to be learned here, that's not what this is about. Forgive me for under or over spiritualizing. It's not my intent to be all correct or controversial or anything. It's just a list of the regular old good stuff of this world.

1. Jazz music. I discovered jazz in the late eighties when I took a music appreciation class in college. Granted, I was looking for the easy "A". What I discovered was something unpredictable, unique, old, new, something that felt like a gourmet meal, a cabin in the mountains, and a best friend all rolled into one. I love it still.

2. Hats. I wish hats would come back. I long for the derby days where women and men wore hats and the more gaudy, the more glorious. I'm going to the Preakness and I can't WAIT to see the hats! They can be so mysterious, so pompous, so humble, so practical. It's mysterious that I like best. Can't you just see the old days when a brim of a hat dipped down over the eye was all it took to make someone wonder?

3. Books. I love being surrounded by them. I sat in Barnes & Noble today and just enjoyed being around books. You're in the midst of greatness, mediocrity, extravagance, simplicity, fantasy, reality, truth, fiction. (This is also why I like Walmart) It's all organized so neatly yet still there is fiction where it's labeled non-fiction and non-fiction where it's labeled fiction. Each book in neat little rows but still it's a maze. More than I could ever know and some things I hope to never discover all in one room. In my dreams I have a library like the one in Beauty and the Beast. I have only ever thrown away one book because it was so poorly written. Up until last year I kept every book I ever read so I could surround myself with them in my home. We ran out of bookshelves a long time ago and still have some books in boxes that I just can't part with.

4. Romantic comedies with jazz music in the soundtrack. I have to qualify this because it's that specific. It has to have jazz or big band or swing in the soundtrack. Here are some examples:
When Harry Met Sally
Notting Hill
Bridget Jones Diary
You've Got Mail
Father of the Bride II
Sleepless in Seattle
and the way underrated French Kiss
I have to comment on French Kiss. Meg Ryan (granted, I have a lot of Meg Ryan movies listed) and Kevin Kline. There's love, there's mystery, there's betrayal, there's wine, there's cheese (lactose intolerance!) and of course, there's France. I want to jump right into these movies. Maybe it's the locations. New York City, England, France. I'll take them all thank you.

5. Drive-thrus. Okay, so all of my good stuff isn't special but as a mom of two little girls, I love drive-thrus. Banks, restaurants, dry cleaners. If they would just come up with drive-thru grocery stores I would never have to leave my car again. "Yes, I'll take a gallon of Horizons skim milk (please give me the one with the latest expiration date), some Capri Suns...any flavor, and a loaf of Arnold's Double Fiber 100% whole wheat bread...thanks!" Wouldn't that be great?

6. Pedicures. I don't think I even have to explain how a pedicure can chase away the blahs.

7. Coffee. Now, my husband HATES coffee. He thinks it tastes like hot dirt. I get why he says that but I still love it. I drink it with flavored creamer and splenda. If I cared nothing about calories I would use real sugar and I would drink a Starbucks peppermint mocha and a caramel frappacino every day. I like it hot or cold but always sweet. I love waking up in the morning just to drink it.

8. My bed. It's heavenly. We finally bought a nice mattress a little over a year ago. It has 8 inches of memory foam on the top and sides. We got our new bedroom furniture back in December. It's a queen sized black canopy bed. It has 600 thread count sheets in white, goose down pillows, and a quilt in ice blue. It's the most calming, comfortable bed I've ever had. I can't wait to get into it every night. I love my bed. I think I'll go there now. Goodnight.

WAIT! I'd really like for you to add to the list of "good stuff" that helps you beat the blahs. No Sunday School answers please.

Rubies

As Mother's Day approaches, I am reminded of the day I became a mother and a lesson I didn't learn until two and a half years later when I became a mother for the second time.

The push present. Know what I'm talking about? I didn’t know anything about them until my friend Lisa had her first baby. We went to visit her in the hospital and along with her beautiful baby boy, she showed us the gorgeous necklace and giant box of Godiva truffles her husband bought for her. When I got pregnant with our first child, I frequently reminded my husband how special and wonderful I thought this idea of a push present was. After all, I was the one who was going to have to do the really hard stuff.

I remember standing in Cracker Barrel one day waiting for our table and we were standing near some birthstone jewelry. (Cracker Barrel just has everything don't they?) My husband mentioned that our daughter’s birthstone was going to be ruby. I was surprised that he’d sought out this information and got the idea that he might be thinking about the push present. I went on and on about how much I just LOVED rubies.

I went into labor on my due date. Okay how often does that actually happen? But I did and off to the hospital we went. I had gotten Jeff a present for our special day. After all, I was convinced I was getting RUBIES. I got him a special journal and a book about writing you life story for your children. It came from red envelope and was in this beautiful red box with a cream bow neatly packed for weeks in my hospital suitcase.

I thought this was pretty special as I was the one doing the pushing. After our daughter was born, I waited until we were alone that night and gave him his gift. I was disappointed to find out that he didn’t have my gift. “ I don’t have yours,” was what he said. “I haven’t even bought anything yet,” was what he meant. I was sad, I mean, it’s not like he didn’t have nine months to prepare but I figured it could be just as special after we got home. Well, two hormone filled weeks went by and no present. Then one day as we were getting ready to leave for church, there was a ring box waiting in the carseat. Oh, this is it. Finally I get my push present. I admit, my attitude was bad but I was glad he hadn't completely forgotten. Well, without going into all the details, my husband went to Kohls (hello, don't buy jewelry at Kohls), and bought a cheap little band with microscopic ruby and diamond chips. It didn't even come in a box, he brought it home in a bag and then put it in one of his state championship ring boxes from high school, which he promptly asked to have back. Can you tell I was a little disappointed?

*I feel it's important here to speak to any man who might be reading this. If you're buying jewelry that has precious stones in it...you must spend more than $100. If you are unsure, PLEASE ask one of her friends for their opinion. May I recommend Berry's Pawn in Madison? It's highly reputable, recommended by Dave Ramsey, and owned by Herb Berry, a wonderful Christian man.

Anyway, I dutifully wore the ring for the next two and a half years. Then our second child was born. I begged him not to buy jewelry. I asked him to just write me a love letter and for his gift, I decided to write him one too. As I began to think about what to write, I thought about the last time we'd been in that place and the little ruby ring. And then it hit me. Conviction. Brokenness. Tears. The Lord brought to mind the one piece of jewelry my husband gave me that I love the most and wear every single day. It is a Hebrew scripture necklace created by a Messianic Jew named Leehee.
My husband picked it out and gave it to me for Christmas about a year and a half after our first was born. It's the only time a gift from him has made me cry. When I read what the Hebrew verse was on the necklace, I lost it. It is

Proverbs 31:10 A wife of noble character who can find? She is more precious than rubies.

Now, I'd worn the necklace for over a year at this point and finally the irony was not lost on me. More precious than rubies. I had been anything but. I wrote the love letter of my life. I was so humbled by all this man had given me. I now wear that little ring with honor. It reminds me of the kind of wife I desire to be. The crazy part is that he already thinks that of me. I know better of course. He even quotes the next two verses whenever he tells someone about the necklace.

Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, and not harm, all the days of her life.

Wow. And as I think of this Mother's Day, I think of the man who made me a mother. If I could be a Proverbs 31:10-12 wife, I know I could be a good mother. So I come into this day with no expectations, just a desire to serve the ones I love. To bring them good, and not harm. To give them full confidence in me. To make sure they lack nothing of value. To be more precious than rubies.

Birthday Boy

*WARNING - The following post may cause vomiting. If mushy talk and lovey-dovey stuff makes you nauseous, you may want to look away.

In honor of my husband's 37th birthday today, I thought I'd write 37 things I love about him.

1. He makes the best grilled cheese sandwich anywhere. (okay, so I didn't want to start with the most obvious stuff)

2. He can build a great fire.

3. He loves to play board games. (especially the ones he can always win)

4. He's one of the smartest people I know.

5. He is a great dad. (of course)

6. He is always diplomatic when dealing with angry people.

7. He is an incredible motivator.

8. He is a vault. (if you have a secret you just have to tell but can't let it get out, call Jeff)

9. When he laughs really hard, it sounds like he's crying.

10. He can talk his way into places normally reserved for VIP's. (this comes in really handy when you arrive at Islands of Adventure with 50 seniors the day before the park opens.)

11. He's loyal.

12. He writes the best love letters to me in our journal.

13. He's hot.

14. He's sweet to his mother.

15. He lets me sleep in on Saturday mornings.

16. He loves learning new things and is a gifted teacher.

17. He's a talented athlete and is highly competitive.

18. What you see is what you get.

19. When you need firewood in Gatlinburg, he'll go out and come back with armfuls leaving you thinking he must have ripped down trees with his bare hands.

20. He tells me all the time that I'm not staying home to make sure our house is spotless or our laundry is always folded and put away, but that I'm here to be with our daughters.

21. He likes doing lawn work.

22. Everyone in my family LOVES him. (sometimes more than me I think)

23. He has a gift for making students who normally feel left out and uncool seem cool and fun to the other kids.

24. He likes my hair no matter how I change it.

25. He likes road trips.

26. He is a leader.

27. He is the best role model for young men that I know.

28. He is strong but he knows the exact moments to be tender.

29. He is a renaissance man.

30. He always compliments my cooking even if I'm disappointed in what I've prepared.

31. He is forgiving.

32. He makes me laugh.

33. He laughs when I'm trying to be funny.

34. He laughs when our daughters are trying to be funny.

35. He'll go to the store at 10:30pm if I really want something.

36. He's not too proud to let our girls put bows in his hair, to watch Dora the Explorer, or to paint a little girls toenails.

37. He loves God and God's Word, and desires to do His will in all things.

I am so blessed to be married to this amazing man. If you know him well enough, feel free to add something you love about him in the comments. Happy Birthday Babe!

How To Extract Top Secret Info from Spies

How to Extract Top Secret Information From Spies

I can tell you in one step. Put a 2 year old hopped up on cough medicine in the bed with them.

Let me explain how I acquired this information. This past weekend was LONG. It was mostly super fun stuff but there was no time to stop and by the time Sunday night rolled around we couldn't wait to get into bed. Immediately after putting the girls to bed we got in our bed, turned on the TV and began to zone out. My husband was asleep by 9:30 and I was asleep by about 10:00. About an hour later we woke up to our 2 year old coughing incessantly and decided to give her some cough medicine. Wait...let me back up a minute.

On Saturday morning at around 8:00am, Little Sister was really hacking and had a pretty stuffy nose so my husband went to the kid's medicine cabinet. He found these neat little cough & cold strips that you just stick on their tongues and the strips just melt away. Sounds brilliant, right? If you've ever tried to give an irritated toddler cough medicine you know why this sounded like a Pulitzer prize winner. We have a nighttime version and a daytime version so he wisely gave her the daytime version. When I came into the kitchen he proudly told me how Little Sister was coughing but he'd taken care of it and given her one of the strips. This is how the conversation went from there:

Me: A WHOLE strip?
Him: (Eyes wide now) Yeah...why?
Me: (Eyes also wide) They're for ages 6 and up.
Him: Why are they in with the other kid medicine?
Me: I don't know, I bought the wrong thing and I didn't want to throw them away. They were expensive. Why didn't you read the label? (I know...this was a stupid question)
Him: Why would I read the label? You take out a strip, you put it on the kid's tongue, what else is there? Is she going to be okay?
Me: I guess. I don't know. We probably just need to watch her.

So that's what we did all day. We watched her. We watched her stumble around. We watched her stare into space. We watched as she asked, "Can.......I.......have.....anana?" And then we watched as she stared with intensity at that banana. Basically, the girl was hammered. For about 5 hours. It looked very similar to this experience. She went down for a nap (easily of course) and woke up fine and dandy but still with a cough and yucky nose. We threw away the other medicine and got some age appropriate medicine. The non-drowsy kind. Which brings me back to the perfect means of torturing spies for information.

So Sunday night we give her the "new" cough medicine at 11:00pm. Little did we know that "non-drowsy" really meant "get ready 'cause this kid is about to kick your $@#!!". Never mind that we actually woke up this ticked off toddler to force the medicine into her body...so we could sleep. Oh the irony. About an hour later I woke up to little sister staring me in the face. I picked her up, carried her upstairs, put her in her bed, told her to stay there, and went back to bed. About ten minutes after that she was back. I repeated the above steps two more times and then she started going to Daddy's side of the bed. Daddy was asleep. No comment. The next time I caught her on the stairs and gave her some discipline before leaving her in her bed. Less than ten minutes later I heard movement again. I went upstairs to find her completely naked and headed out to do heaven knows what. That's when I gave up. I figured better to have her in my bed and know that she was diapered, clothed, and safe. That's when the REAL torture began.

For the next several hours she waited until I began to drift and would then proceed to poke me in the eye and say with all cheeriness, "EYES!" Sometimes she would stand up and start jumping on the bed, sometimes she would kick me in the kidney, sometimes she would try to sit on my head, sometimes she would say over and over, "Whas sat?" (What's that?) At about 1:30am Daddy left to sleep on the couch. I am telling you, in all seriousness, that by 3:00am I would have told the enemy anything they wanted to know if they would just GET THIS KID OUT OF MY BED AND LET ME SLEEP! I actually thought about digging that other cough medicine out of the trash at one point. I thought to myself, "I'll just let her kick me and poke me because I'm so tired I think I can maybe sleep through it." No such luck. The child finally collapsed into a deep snoring slumber at exactly 4:33am. Exactly 4:33am. I know. I looked. I'm a stay-at-home mom and it would have been tolerable if I could have slept in the next morning. Unfortunately, Big Sister usually gets up shortly after 6:00am.

Well, I made it through that night and the next Monday without killing anyone, with cough medicine or otherwise. Needless to say, we let the child cough the next night. She was pretty much over it by then anyway. What's the moral of the story?

Read the label.
If you bought the wrong thing, get rid of it.
Read the label.
Understand what the label means.
Read the label again and then let them cough anyway, especially if they are asleep.


I'd love to hear your one-liners.

We're Breaking Up

I was walking/running last night and I have to admit that it is getting a little better. A little. For the most part I still don’t enjoy it but I do have to admit that it burns more calories much faster. I loaded my iPod with what I thought would inspire me to keep going and it seems to help. Here’s my running playlist.

Queen – We Will Rock You

Survivor – Eye of the Tiger

Kelly Clarkson – Since You Been Gone

Destiny’s Child – Survivor

Christina Aguilera – Fighter

Britney Spears – Hit Me Baby One More Time

NSync – It’s Gonna Be Me

Backstreet Boys – Bye Bye Bye

Pat Benetar – Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Gloria Gaynor - I Will Survive

Heart – Never

Indigo Girls – Midnight Train to Georgia

KC and the Sunshine Band – Boogie Shoes

Elton John – Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me

I know, it’s not very spiritual. Somehow praise music has the opposite effect on me. It makes me want to stop in my tracks. I’m one of those people who can barely sing in church because I just cry the whole time. But I realized while I was running last night that I have a lot of angry breakup music in the lineup. I’m not sure why this music pumps me up so much. I mean there’s a little bit of fun stuff but what’s the deal with the breakup songs? And then I realized.

It’s over. We’re done for good. I’m breaking up with my big butt. I have broken up with my big butt before only to reunite with it again a few months later. It always lured me back with sugary sweets and fatty fried foods and I just haven’t seemed to be able to get it out of my life for good. Well, it’s done me wrong long enough. I’m mad and I’m breaking things off for the last time. I even wrote it a Dear John letter.

Dear Big Butt,
I know we’ve been together a long time. We know each other so well but there’s never really been love between us. In fact, I've never loved you and I never will. You make me unhappy. You make me feel bad about myself. You’re weighing me down. And this time I’m serious. Don’t come around anymore because I’m not taking you back. You need to just go and take all your fat pants with you. No one likes you. Your dimples haven’t been cute since I was about 3 years old. There’s no room for you here anymore so please quit following me around. You’re not the butt God intends for me to spend my life with so I’m breaking up with you. Goodbye.

P.S. Leave my friends and family alone too because they don’t want anything to do with you either.

So, what’s in your iPod lineup?

Building a Marriage

My husband is home after his mission trip in Brazil and boy does he have stories to tell. The girls and I missed him so much. This is the longest we’ve been apart, EVER. Of course it got me thinking about how much I love him. They were in Brazil building a church brick by brick and it reminded me of one of the turning points in our relationship. The year I learned how to build a marriage.

Our second and third years were definitely the hardest. That first year we truly were just in that honeymoon period where you ignore the stuff that’s not working. The second year, the frustration set in. I didn’t realize it but going into marriage I had a lot of expectations. I wanted the perfect Christian marriage that I imagined so many others had. Most days we didn’t line up with those expectations and I didn’t like it one bit. My husband began to withdraw to a place where he was accepted just as he was and encouraged for doing things right, his work. The more he withdrew, the worse it got, and the vicious cycle continued. Thankfully, I would soon learn that the “perfect” marriage doesn’t exist. When things between us were at their worst, a good friend intervened and gave me a talking to that I’ll never forget.

Our friend used a great analogy. He said that it was as if I had these blueprints for the perfect marriage but the problem was my husband didn’t have access to them. Every time he put a brick in the wrong place so to speak, I was frustrated, disappointed, and just downright disrespectful. He said that building a marriage was like deciding together each day where we would lay a brick. That it was only at the end of our days that we would look back and see the beautiful one-of-a-kind marriage we had. Somehow that made sense to me.

I threw out the blueprints after that. I embraced the idea that our marriage wouldn’t look like anyone else’s as a good thing. We began to figure out what worked best for us. We started getting to know each other again. And most importantly, we put our trust in God to be the architect and builder. It took some time but we began to build something that by God’s grace would last. I think we’ve got some interesting and wonderful and unique design elements to our marriage.

Eight years later, I was delighted to see a similar analogy in the Beth Moore Bible study we just finished called Stepping Up. Remembering that Jesus was a carpenter by trade she says, “Keep in mind that Christ is a custom builder...Let Him tell you how He wants your house to look instead of the other way around. He alone has the blueprints.” Wow, I knew exactly what she was talking about.

The church they built in Brazil is a very basic, one room structure, but one day during a lunchtime devotion, they felt the Holy Spirit fall on that place. In that same way, I want the Holy Spirit to be our guide and work in us to build a marriage that honors and glorifies Him. That would be…well…perfect.

Fear - Part 2

The last time my husband went out of town I had one of my battles with fear. I can't really put my finger on it but I had some weird dreams that last night before he came home and I woke up feeling...weird. I couldn't even remember what I dreamed but I just had that sense of foreboding. For some unknown reason, I started to be afraid that my husband was never coming home. I almost felt sick. I had such a hard time shaking that feeling. It was like other very realistic dreams I've had. Have you ever dreamt your husband cheated or that you had a big fight, and then woken up mad at him? Have you ever been snappy in the morning because, how dare he and he's like, "What did I do?" and you're like, "I dreamed that I saw you having dinner with your old girlfriend," and he's like, "What? You're mad at me because of something I did in a dream?" Anyway, it was kind of like that only I couldn't remember the dream and I was not mad, I was afraid. It would have been better if I could have remembered the dream because then I could just remind myself it wasn't real. But instead I was just left with this bad feeling.

I used to be the kind of person who would worry myself to death by thinking through every possible horrible scenario ahead of time. I used the excuse that this way, I'd be prepared for whatever happened. Then nothing would happen and I'd think about all that time I wasted. I remember one time specifically trying to do 2 Corinthians 10:5 which says,

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

I was trying to take captive these worrisome thoughts but I just kept thinking that it was better to "be prepared". Then the Lord spoke to my heart words that were as loud as any time I have ever had the Lord speak to me...My grace is sufficient for your unpreparedness. BAM! It smacked me right in the face. Just two short chapters later in 2 Corinthians 12: 9 is another verse.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

I'd heard that verse a thousand times and would try to meditate on it in times of trouble but for the first time the Lord spoke it into my heart in a very personal way. My grace is sufficient for your unpreparedness...my grace is sufficient for your failures as a parent...my grace is sufficient for your unemployment...my grace is sufficient for your sickness...and on and on.

I think one of my favorite passages in William P. Young's The Shack articulates this struggle with fear and the reason for it really well. In this particular passage, the main character, Mack, is having a conversation with Jesus about how people spend too much time in their minds in the future, mostly fear of the future. Jesus says, "You try and play God, imagining the evil that you fear becoming reality, and then you try and make plans and contingencies to avoid what you fear." Boy could I relate to that. And the reason? "Because you don't believe...To the degree that those fears have a place in your life, you neither believe I am good nor know deep in your heart that I love you. You sing about it; you talk about it, but you don't know it."

You know, I'm not afraid of my husband physically hurting me. I'm not afraid that he'll run off with another woman tomorrow. I'm not afraid he'll gamble away our paycheck each month. Why? Because I know him. Now he's not perfect and we're certainly not immune to these things but I think you get my point. I'm not afraid because I know him better than I know anybody. It's easy to trust him in these things each day because of my personal relationship with him, the time I've spent with him. And so I got to thinking...maybe this is my problem. Maybe I have fear because I don't know God. Not the way I want to know Him. Not as well as I know Jeff. I know God loves me but maybe I don't really know how much He loves me. Knowledge may not equal depth...but in some sense I think it does equal trust. And I want to trust God completely, without fear. Now don't get me wrong, I'm still going to set the alarm, check the kids before going to bed, and pray. But I'm going to try to remember that God is present in the reality of today, not my imaginations of tomorrow. And that His grace is sufficient, period.

30-Something and Lovin' It!

A friend of mine just turned 30 this past Saturday and she wasn't exactly excited. So...this is for all my young friends out there turning 30 and dreading it. Girls, I don't get it. I was standing in line at my favorite store, Walmart, and saw a young actress on the front of a magazine and the headline was "When I turned 25 I had a quarterlife crisis." Huh? Is 25 considered old now? I looked forward to turning 30. Am I the only one? I was so foolish in my 20's that I saw 30 as a brand new start. I felt like I was finally a woman and not a girl. I felt mature for the first time. I felt like I finally knew something about life and the world we live in. Here are just a few things I've learned since turning 30.

1. People take me more seriously now that I'm 30.

2. I have been through enough to find out who my real friends are and now I can be pretty sure my friends are for life.

3. I have finished the "trial and error" twenties and now I know more about what I want and how to get it. I'm still dreaming but now I'm also doing.

4. I have experienced enough loss and heartache to appreciate life more and not take so much for granted.

5. I'm still cool but I no longer care whether or not other people think I am cool. :) And I'm still young but not near as stupid as I was.

6. I'm more certain of myself and less certain of myself. I'm more confident in some areas and some things I spoke so confidently of in my 20's I have since been humbled about which has been a good thing.

7. One of my mentors once told me that the longer you live, the more you trust God because you've seen him come through again and again and again. I think this is probably true. It seems to be so in their lives. Think about those older women you respect and admire. Is this true of them?

8. In Jewish writings, 30 is considered to be the age "worthy of leadership". The bible tells us specifically that Joseph was 30 years old when he entered Pharaoh's service and it is estimated that Jesus himself started his ministry at age 30. I figure if it's the best age for Jesus, maybe it's the best age, period. My older friend Nancy has a theory that we are all 30 in heaven because she says it is the perfect age.

Anyway ladies...I have to say that I didn't have children when I was 30 so maybe it was different. I did celebrate in style though. My wonderful husband arranged for some of my friends to surprise me. We rode around Nashville in a limo, visited some hot spots, I rode on the back of a Harley with a stranger, and I wore a tiara and a big pink boa the entire night. We spent the night in a hotel suite where my husband had 30 roses waiting.

It was a blast so I recommend fully embracing your 30's. I plan to for the 2 1/2 years I have left before 40. I'll have to get back to you on that one. I plan to celebrate even bigger for SURE! Any word on turning 40 from some of my more experienced friends out there?

Finally I'll leave you with this funny quote I found.

Turning 30 by Andy Rooney
This is a partial excerpt written by Andy Rooney from CBS 60 Minutes

Andy Rooney says: As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, "What are you thinking?". She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it's usually something more interesting.

A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women. Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

So let' hear it from my 30+ friends out there! What have you learned?

Being Mary in a Martha World

I was recently listening to one of my dad's sermons on my iPod. I wish it were still online and I would link you to it but it was on Luke 10:38-42.

38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a
woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by
all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord,
don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to
help me!" 41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and
upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

So who can relate to Martha? We understand her irritation. Let's face it. We live in a Martha world. Whoever is the busiest is the best. What do you think of when you think of the SUPERMOM? Honestly. I'll tell you what I think of. She has a spotless house, always serves home cooked meals, all the clothes are washed and ironed, lunches are prepared the night before, she exercises every day, pays the bills the instant they arrive, changes the oil after every 3000 miles, volunteers at church, school, and at least one charity, and all with a smile on her face.

She makes me tired.

She makes me feel inadequate.

But is this who my role model should be?

Martha was busy making preparations and fussed to Jesus that Mary wasn't helping her. Ever done that? Ever fussed to Jesus that you couldn't get any help? :) And how does Jesus reply? "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things..." She's not just working hard, she's "worried and upset about many things". Interesting. Is SUPERMOM worried and upset and I just didn't know it? She makes it look easy after all.

But here's the real point. It's not that Martha did all the work and Mary did none. It's that Mary knew when to stop and sit at the feet of the Savior. The truth is, preparations had probably been going on all day. Mary had been working hard as well, but when Jesus showed up, she stopped, she sat at his feet, she listened to his teaching. Read verses 41 and 42 again.

41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many
things, 42but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it
will not be taken away from her."

We have a choice. Are you a SUPERMOM? Are you missing the one thing that is needed? There is work to do, there are preparations to be made, yes. But at some point do we choose what is better? Sit now and then dear sister at his feet and listen.

*The character SUPERMOM in this blog is fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. :)

Are Cupcakes a Vegetable?

Okay, no school today, which means no MOPS, which means I’ve eaten cupcakes for breakfast and lunch. Okay, so “no school” isn’t really the reason I’m eating cupcakes. I have a better one.

I didn’t even have to make cupcakes for Annie’s class party, I just thought it would be something fun to do. If you can read between the lines, actually I had a sweet tooth and craving for white cake with buttercream icing. Gosh, I hope I’m not pregnant. Basically I let my four year old Annie pour and sift and stir. Once the cupcakes and icing were made I actually got out a pastry bag and tip (I know, Martha Stewart look out) and iced the cupcakes. I gave Annie some decorative sprinkles and colored sugars and let her have at it. I figure this means I’m a good mom because I’m not too proud to send my kid to her MOPS valentine party with imperfect cupcakes. I started doing some other things around the house (watching Oprah), and after a few minutes looked over to find my child with a spreader, “spreading” the icing. Okay, maybe I’m not that laid back. She was ruining my beautiful piping after all and I didn’t want anyone to think I did that! So only about five were damaged and she went back to the sprinkling. After several more minutes I looked over to discover she’s licking the spreader. I thought she was being sneaky and spreading again and asked her to stop. She looked sheepish and said with a grin, “Sorry Mom.” A couple hours later I decided I should put the cupcakes away and only then did I notice that she had scooped the center of each cupcake with her spreader and licked the icing off, effectively removing the beautiful rosette from each center and contaminating each cupcake. See one victim and the weapon of mass destruction below. (Notice the one-sided decorating)

So, needless to say, no one outside this house can eat the cupcakes and I can’t let her eat them all and I can’t (gasp!) throw them away! So again, I’ve eaten cupcakes for breakfast and lunch. For dinner I’m thinking, I don’t know…something pink?