The Overflow of My Heart

Adopting Juliet - Wednesday Edition

2011-12-07T21:49:00.003-06:00

Today we were scheduled to have a full day of visitation with Juliet. We picked her up at 9 am, and returned her at 5 pm. It went so well! She is a delight! We went to a mall and found a baby boutique; I was able to wear her comfortably in the sling, then we brought her back for a nap, lunch, and some playtime, and then received a call from our agency to go back and sign a few more papers.

By noon tomorrow, our ICPC application should be in Montgomery. Do I have any readers whose BFF works in the adoption department for Alabama's DHR? Just kidding! We will be waiting for approval from them and from Texas, and approval could come as early as Friday, or as late as next week (or later, worst case scenario). We cannot leave until we have permission of both Alabama and Texas. That is God's part to handle; I don't think there is anything else we can do but wait.

Tonight is Juliet's last night with her foster parents, and tomorrow morning, the agency releases her to us!! I am sad for her foster parents, because I understand what it feels like to let a little one go, but I am praying that God comforts them and blesses them with many more years to serve Him. They have kept over 120 foster children throughout the last 42 years. I am amazed every time I am around them because they are such incredible people, such giants for His kingdom, yet live an unassuming, quiet and down-to-earth life. They exemplify James 3:13, "[w]ho is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom."

I have learned so much on this trip, and I imagine I have so much more to learn. One thing I know: God is in control. The earth and everything in it belongs to Him, and God is always the victor. With God in control, I have no fear of the future; I can "laugh at the days to come."

Thank you to those of you who have read along and prayed us and Juliet through this journey. My prayer is that in return, your hearts will be filled with more love, more compassion, and more willingness to love the precious little ones all around us. Grace and peace to you and your family!

Adoption with God - Tuesday Edition

2011-12-06T21:13:00.002-06:00

"In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will-to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves." Eph. 1:5-6

There is a parallel between God, the father, adopting us as His children, and between adults adopting a child. In both cases, the greater provides for the lesser. Love is bestowed upon the adopted. Care and support are given. The parent in both situations does most of the work, while the job of the adoptee is mainly to receive the benefits of the relationship. But there is one exception to that relationship, and it comes at the very beginning. In order for us to become the children of God, we must submit to His will for our lives. We must sacrifice our will for the cause of His kingdom. In return, the blessings are enormous. I believe the same is true with adoption. At some point very soon, Juliet will have to submit to our will in order to truly become our child.

Today was another day of smiles and laughter between us and Juliet as we became acclimated to each other. We are following a carefully crafted bonding plan designed for a 9-month old child. Bonding is the first crucial act that must take place between parent and child in order for the child to develop trust, which is the foundation for all emotional growth. She must learn to trust that we will feed her when she is hungry, change her when she is dirty, and help her sleep when she is tired. She must learn that Jason and I are her primary caregivers, and that we are to be trusted above anyone else.

For that reason, for the next 6 months or so, only Jason and I can feed her, change her, put her to bed, and meet her physical and emotional needs. For the last 2 months, her foster family has met those needs, and she has responded well, considering the fact that she came to them with an aversion to being held and touched. Our baby girl is desperately in need of loving parents. We are so grateful and honored that God chose us to be those loving parents to Juliet. We are actually still in awe of the fact that WE were chosen for her!

Today we were able to have three separate sessions with Juliet. The first two went well, and the third began well, but this evening we tried to put her to bed, and it was a bit challenging. She simply could not submit her will to our plan, despite the fact that she clearly needed to sleep. Thankfully, her Mimi (foster mama) was able to step in and help, but it keeps bringing my mind back to our Father. How often do we fight His good and perfect plan, His will for our lives? He wants the best for us, He knows the best for us, but still we argue. "Lord, I want this NOW. I think it should happen THIS way. Lord, I don't want to go there."

Wow. Lord, you are awesome the way you reveal your wisdom, your power, and your might. Thank you for the many gifts you have given us! Thank you for your son, for my husband, for my children! Thank you for making each of my children wonderful and special, and a delight to my life! Lord, I have already become your child and I have already submitted my life to you, but today Lord, I want to do it again, and refresh my promise to you! I submit to YOUR plan for my life, to YOUR timetable, to YOUR decisions. Whatever YOU want, Lord, that's what I want, too! I trust that you are in control of this adoption of Juliet, that you are in control of the paperwork, and that you will make your will known in a mighty and powerful way. I trust in YOU. And one day, Lord, I know Juliet will trust us, too, by your grace and mercy. Lord, how I love you!

"I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name, I will lift up my hands." Psalm 63:4

Monday Night

2011-12-05T20:51:00.002-06:00

What a little joy is our Juliet! I am delighted to report that she reached for both of us! She is full of smiles and laughter, and we love her foster parents! I am too exhausted to write much more than this, but just know that she has stolen our hearts! Thank you, everyone for your prayers that she would reach for us! God answered them in a mighty way! Praise Him!

Tomorrow we will see her for an hour in the morning, then sign papers, then see her again in the afternoon. Would you mind praying that our papers are approved by Thursday of this week? If we get approval from Alabama and Texas by Thursday, then we can begin our journey home Friday morning. I cannot wait to get this little doll home.

Adopting Juliet - Monday Edition

2011-12-05T09:59:00.002-06:00

Back when Jason and I were in high school, before we were even dating, we used to talk about adopting a little girl. He wanted a little girl from China, and I wanted a Choctaw baby. Those were the days! We started having that conversation in 1990!

Here it is, 21 years later, and our dream is finally coming true. We are adopting a beautiful 9 month old little girl!

Yesterday, we jumped in the car after a wonderful worship service and lovely prayer with our friends, and we set out for our 14-hour journey to Abilene, Texas. 17 long hours later, we finally arrived!! There were several wrecks that brought traffic to a standstill, and then there was the torrential rain. It started in Mississippi. The lightning and rain finally quit, and morphed into loud sleet, along with a sudden drop in temperature.

We were already behind from the standstill traffic, so we just swapped drivers and plowed on through. An eerie silence overtook the noisy sleet as the sleet became snow. We realized we were the only ones on the road, and we could barely see the lines on the road! The quarter-sized snow flakes fell so heavily that it felt just like trying to drive through a freshly-shaken snow globe! Except that we were in the dark!

Thankfully, we caught up to a Fed Ex semi truck that plowed a path on the road that we were able to follow the last 3 hours of the trip. We were determined to make it to Abilene, and we refused to let bad traffic, rain, lightning, sleet or snow stop us from being near our baby girl! In fact, as I write this, we are just down the road from her foster parent's home, and after checking in at 6am, and getting a good 3 hours of sleep, we are just so anxious to meet Juliet!

At 2 this afternoon, we will sign papers for an hour, and then we have a scheduled session to meet Juliet and her foster parents from 3 until 6 pm. We won't be allowed to hold her until tomorrow UNLESS she reaches out for us. Today is a trust-building time for Juliet as she begins to learn about her new family! Regardless of the details, I know God will be with all of us today, from the boys back at home, to our little one here in Abilene!

"Our heart shall rejoice in Him, because we have trusted in His holy name. Let your mercy, O Lord, be upon us, just as we hope in you." Psalm 33:21-22

Baby A

2011-09-22T11:31:00.006-05:00

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:

to look after orphans and widows in their distress,

and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

James 1:27

On Saturday, September 3rd, 2011, Jason and I had one of our dreams come true: through Agape, we brought home from the hospital our first foster baby, Baby A. He was a newborn, almost 3 days old, and he weighed 6 pounds and 12 ounces. We had the great honor and joy of meeting his every need for the next 2 and a half weeks.

During that time, my eyes were opened to the many ways that God's love abounds in difficult situations. Our family in Christ (our dearest friends) began to love on this sweet baby, and their love poured out in the form of baby clothes, diapers, baby furniture, wipes, and other wonderful gifts. One of my good friends even did a set of professional newborn portraits for our baby. Others blessed us with acts of service; cooking food, coming to our house to sit with him so that I could clean, holding him, feeding him, and talking to him.

Then the prayers started coming. Every where we turned, people told us they were praying for him and for us, and some even sat with us and prayed. People sent me cards, texts, and e-mails telling us that they were praying. We were even able to present our baby at church and our minister prayed a blessing over him and his life. Our small group family prayed blessings over him as well, and of course Jason and I did too. The most surprising prayer came from my 5 year-old, who painstakingly wrote out his prayer, asking God to "Let [Baby A] be en a gud fmule, " translated, "let [Baby A] be in a good family."

My children demonstrated remarkable compassion; remarkable because 11, 8 and 5 year-old boys generally are not perceived as compassionate, loving, and gentle creatures. But God blessed them with servant hearts, and for the first time, I saw them pouring out love and compassion on this helpless, beautiful child. They never argued about who had to sit beside him in the car, and they took turns sitting beside his carseat and popping back in a passie, giving him bottles, and winding up his giraffe that he loved. On several occasions I was in the kitchen with wet hands, mid-dish washing, and my big boys would run to the crying baby and gently pick him up and rock him or give him his bottle.

I treasure these moments in my heart.

The foster and adoption process does not always work out the way you expect it to. I expected a thrilling moment of being able to place our well-loved baby into the arms of a childless couple. I dreamed about the moment when I became a part of making another family's dream come true.

That moment was not to be. Instead, I placed our baby into the arms of a woman that I think will do her best to raise her grandchild. Baby A's daddy watched, and I asked him to please teach Baby A how to get to heaven, although I am not convinced that he himself has any idea about how to get there. I invited them to church, and tried to explain all the ways that a church family can love on a baby, and provide help and support. Having raised 3 children, I have no idea how families raise babies without the help of a church family. I explained that he had been blessed at the church, and that he already had a Bible class that he attended that would love for him to come back. Does this daddy have any idea how much a newborn can learn in the cradle roll Bible class?

I am proud that we were able to love Baby A with all of our hearts. I am relieved that Baby A is no longer an orphan. I am humbled that God chose our family to be blessed with the ability to love and care for newborns in spite of the schedules that we have chosen for our lives. I pray fervently that God uses this child to draw the hearts of Baby A's family to Him. I long to know that they ultimately become great servants in His kingdom.

But I despair that Baby A is only one child out of hundreds of thousands of millions of children who need love, who need parents, who need to be raised in homes that worship and serve the True and Living God. From the depth of my heart, I long for children to be raised in homes that abound with the love, compassion and mercy of Jesus, our Savior, who loved us and died for us, though we are still sinful people. There is no greater joy or comfort in this difficult life than to know the gracious and loving God that meets our every need and sends us comfort in dealing with the great trials we face in life.

"The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few." Matt. 9:37.

O Lord, how I beg you in the name of Jesus,

send out workers into your harvest field!

Has God Been Speaking to You Lately?

2011-03-03T16:41:00.003-06:00

Not too long ago, I overheard a fellow believer chuckle, and say, "I don't know about you, but God hasn't been speaking to me lately." His intention was to make a joke, referring to the belief that God no longer speaks to us except through the Bible, His written word.

I was raised to believe that today God is audibly silent to His people, but that we could discern what His will is only through prayer and careful reading of the scriptures. I can't tell you what day it was that I stopped believing that, but it was about 7 years ago, when I resolved that I would believe that the whole Bible applies to us, not just certain chapters. I don't pick and choose any longer which chapters are to us, and which chapters were to the Apostles only.

Now I've looked through this blog, because I hate to tell the same story over and over, and since I could not find it anywhere on my site, I am compelled to tell you about the first time I KNEW God was talking to me.

May I preface this by saying that I do not believe I am special. I am not worthy of the mighty God, the King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords taking notice of me. I still make mistakes, I still make people angry, and I still hurt people's feeling without intending to, but for whatever reason, God still noticed me anyway on this particular occasion.

We had recently bought our house, a house we selected specifically with the intention of welcoming guests and visitors. For some weeks, I'd been pondering the idea of naming our house in a way that would dedicate our home to God. I wanted to give it a name that would denote saftey, hope and love. Refuge was the word I'd settled on, but it just didn't sound right to me. I wanted something more clever, like the Greek, Hebrew, or Latin word for Refuge.

The moment I decided that, I just happened to be sitting in a Ladies' Bible class, daydreaming, and not paying attention. I do that a lot, unfortunately. The teacher was a woman I admire greatly, but she was telling a story that I'd heard before, so I was only half-listening.

I was half-listening, that is, until she said - and I quote - "Malta is the Phoenician word for refuge."

When she said that, I stopped breathing for just a second, and felt terrified. Maybe that doesn't strike you as shocking, but I'm telling you, God heard my thoughts and answered them the very next second. I listened carefully to the rest of her lesson, partly because I was scared that God was mad at me for daydreaming, and partly to see if what she was talking about had any relationship to refuge. It didn't. No relationship whatsoever. It was just a little nugget of information tossed into her lesson, that I happened to receive as the voice of God.

It's a scary thing when you know that God has heard your thoughts, but isn't that what we long for, and attempt to accomplish every day through prayer? It's real, my friends. The creator of the Universe knows us intimately. If we are believers, He counsels us in our hearts, speaking to us, living in us, guiding us. I am afraid that most of us, myself included, just don't hear Him most of the time because we have such little faith, and we spend so much of our time listening for other things. We listen to music we love, we listen to our friends, we listen to our children, we listen to the television, we listen to everything else in the world BUT the most important voice of all: the Voice of truth.

Sweet friends, listen for God. Listen for the many, many ways He speaks to you. Listen for that still, small voice. Listen for the one that calls to you, knocking at the door of your heart. Listen for HIM, because His word is so good, and so filled with the wisdom we desperately need.

"If you love me, you will obey what I command.

And I will ask the Father,

and He will give you another Counselor

to be with you forever - the Spirit of truth.

The world cannot accept him,

because it neither sees him nor knows him.

But you know him,

for he lives with you

and will be in you."

John 14:15-16

Wake Us Up

2011-02-03T12:15:00.007-06:00

"The acts of the sinful nature are obvious:

sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery;

idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord,

jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions,

factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies and the like.

I warn you, as I did before,

that those who live like this

will not inherit the kingdom of God."

-Galatians 5:19-21

I've been filled with an odd mixture of sorrow and anger lately. Normally, I prefer that the overflow of my heart be encouraging, and coming from a heart full of love, but I don't think this post will be very encouraging, and for that, I am sorry. I do, however, know that this is coming from a heart full of love.

What is happening to our world? How is it that I've grown up in a Christian environment my entire life (Christian home, Christian schools, Christian college, Christian workplaces), yet I find myself in grief for all the sin that surrounds me? Sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery (had to look that one up), idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, and yes, even orgies...every single item on that list describes situations I know of personally. And yet I am surrounded by Christians. How can this be?

Maybe I'm just getting old, or out-of-touch, but when I see the generation just behind mine, the generation that is energetic, vibrant, and our future, I see a group of beautiful people that claim to love God, and could be doing so VERY much for His kingdom (and some are), but instead, many of them have cavalier attitudes towards sex, selfishness, drunkenness, and seem to scoff at any sort of wisdom or authority.

I am not claiming to be perfect. Like everyone else, I have sinned, and probably will make other mistakes in the future. But we know that as long as we are living by the Spirit, we will not be led into a path of sin (Galatians 5:16-21). Even though I have made many mistakes, I believe that the Holy Spirit is waking me up to the irreverence that surrounds me. I see the great disconnect between the generation before me, and the one after me. I see that the younger generation is not inspired to have respect and love for God when they find no passion, no heart, and no soul in the worship set before them today. The generations do not speak the same language, nor do they face the same challenges.

I believe very much in the Biblical teachings on propriety in worship and order in worship, but when these are the controlling factors, and we do not allow the Holy Spirit to guide our worship, the result is that we fail to worship our creator in spirit and in truth, and just as sad, we are losing a generation. We are losing our future church leaders, our future Godly parents. It is a generation that considers themselves to be "good people," yet engage in every sin on the weekends, live purely for selfish fun and pleasure, create children without fathers, and ultimately do not know what it means to worship or serve the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the Almighty God.

Can each of us do our part? Can we work harder to stop overlooking the sin amongst us, to provide more guidance, more honesty, to be more loving, and to be more encouraging? Can we attempt to speak the language of the next generation? Can we demonstrate our passion for our God, our Father, in a more open manner?

Lord, wake us up. Prick our hearts. Open our eyes. Show us what it means to worship you, and serve you, and praise you. Lord, raise up Godly leaders for the next generation that can speak their language, and raise up from within their generation strong, Godly leaders, both men and women. Bring the Holy Spirit in us to life, so that we serve you with a zeal that brings you praise, and glory, and honor. Let us love one another, and Lord, let us produce in abundance the fruits of your Spirit.

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,

patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control.

Against such things there is no law."

-Galatians 5:22-23

Long Time, No Post

2010-11-23T09:22:00.002-06:00

Working full-time, running our big boy to Peter Pan rehearsals, homeschooling, various injuries with 3 boys, field trips, reassessing life, making new friends...these are just a few of the things that have filled our lives since my last post. I'm not complaining about being busy; this is how we live.

I love my life. But we long to do more for God's kingdgom, and he's working on our hearts.

We keep hearing these questions that are challenging our hearts. Questions like, "what would you do for God if you weren't afraid?" And, "what is our responsibility to those we know of who are hurting?" And, "if we look just like the world, what's the point of claiming to be a Christian?" Difficult things to ask, even more difficult things to answer.

God brought me to this verse last night.

Once our eyes are open,
we can't pretend we don't know what to do.
God, who weighs our hearts, and keeps our souls,
knows that WE know, and holds us responsible to act.
Proverbs 24:12

What would YOU do if you weren't afraid?

A Life of Love

2010-07-21T16:09:00.003-05:00

If there is just one thing that I want here on this earth, it is to be WHO I am: my Father's daughter, with ALL my heart; and to not allow WHAT I am: human, to get in the way of that.

In my soul, I know that if I can succeed at just that one thing, then everything else will fall into place.

"Hear O Israel: The Lord our God is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength."
Deuteronomy 6:4-5

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want."
Psalm 23:1

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart."
Psalm 37:4

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."
Psalm 46:1

"Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."
Ephesians 5:1

"but seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."
Matthew 6:33

Crossing the Desert

2010-06-22T09:46:00.007-05:00

I feel my children's childhood is racing by at a record-breaking speed.

Can you imagine what it would be like to carry a few gallons of water across a desert with a bucket full of holes? You have to get the water across safely, but there are constant obstacles coming from every direction. The heat from the sun is making the water evaporate, the holes in the bucket are steadily dripping water, and your arms are tired and heavy as you make your journey. By the time you reach your destination, you are just praying that the amount of water left in the bucket is enough to sustain the people you are taking it to.

That is how I feel about my job as a mother. My children are the water, and I am trying to get them to adulthood with enough Christian values and principles written on their hearts so that they can be servants of Christ in their generation. I am on a mission, doing a job that will have an impact on my sons, their future wives, their children (my grandchildren!), the church families my sons become a part of, in essence, on God's eternal kingdom! I am not being dramatic, I am being honest, and realistic.

Can you grasp the gravity of my mission? Nothing, there is nothing on this earth more important to me. Even as I type, time races by, while my children are learning as they play, observing the world around them, absorbing the relationships they see, and becoming the men that will have an impact, for better or worse, on the people around them.

I am acutely aware that it takes a village to raise a child. My children's friends, their friend's parents, their teachers, even the elders at our church will make a mark on my children. I love my position as their mother at this age: today, I have the power to choose the people that surround them. With no family members living in our town, I choose to surround my children with church family: friends from church, church teachers, church leaders such as ministers and elders.

I have a clear recollection of the elders at our church when I was a very little girl. They were such Godly, gentle, and gracious men. I can remember Mr. Finley stooping down to be eye-level with me, and I remember his loving smile. I remember Mr. Petty's hurried step, his quick grin, and I cherish my memories of my time spent with his sweet wife. She was my 3-year-old Bible class teacher. I remember Mr. Wheeler, a smart man whose wife Jeanne was also one of my Bible class teachers; I think she taught me when I was 4. She had the most beautiful, welcoming smile and I loved her class, too.

Bible class was my very first experience at that congregation, where my parents were baptized when I was 2. I remember watching our preacher, Mr. Dennis, baptize my parents as the preacher's wife, Mrs. Dennis, sat beside me and held my hand. I remember walking into Bible class for the very first time as a 2 and a half year old. Mrs. Hoover took my hand as my parents stood beside me, and she led me to a little chair just my size. She said in such a sweet voice, "this is your chair, Gina, and when you come back, it will have your name on it." And when I came back, it certainly did have a little felt cover with my name on it. Oh, those are sweet, sweet memories.

It is my most fervent prayer that the village we have selected for our sons, our church family, will also make loving, indelible marks on my sons' memories. I want them to develop a love for children like Mr. Jimmy and Uncle Al, a longing for evangelizing people of the world like Mr. Wes, a passion for worship like Mr. Paul and Mr. Jon, and the desire to change people's hearts like Mr. Buddy. What amazing servants of God my sons could become!

We love our village - our church - our family. I pray, as their mother, I am planning and carrying out my mission just the way God wants me to: by cultivating their relationships with people outside of our household, with people that will plan with me and help me as I cross the desert carrying my most precious, most treasured cargo: my three sons, three more future servants in God's kingdom.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,
"plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.
Then you will call upon me
and come and pray to me,
and I will listen to you."
Jeremiah 29:11-12

Aletheia

2010-05-29T22:15:00.003-05:00

How to worship was a very important topic of my growing-up years. We relied on John 4:23 & 24, when Jesus says that worship will be "in Spirit and in truth." Understanding that concept was pretty simple at face value: you worship in Spirit when you worship with your whole heart, from your heart; and you worship in truth when you worship in the accurate way that God instructs us to.

Who knew that I'd grow up to learn that this is not exactly the right translation? I'm sure that there is much more to the concept of "in Spirit" than what I understand right now, but for now, just look at the last part: in truth. The original Greek word for "truth" was aletheia, which yes, means accuracy and sincerity, but the literal translation of alethia is "the state of not being hidden, the state of being evident."

So I write all of that to ask this: how will most of us worship God tomorrow morning? Will it be the way God desires it to be? Will it be in Spirit and will it also be evident? I want to remember that as I walk through His gates tomorrow morning: aletheia; the state of not being hidden.
Grace and peace to you!

It's Written in Blood

2010-05-18T21:34:00.004-05:00

In one of the greatest ironies of my college years, Jason and I taught a VBS session on the topic of forgiveness with a dear friend of ours. The irony? A year or so later, we had a falling out with her(over a ridiculous misunderstanding), and I still feel sad to this day when her name comes up in conversation. We never resolved the issue in a loving, Christ-like way, and I think that accounts for my unsettled feelings I still have, even today. Of course I forgive her. Does she forgive me? I hope so.

It's been 14 years since then, and now I can see that the whole situation grew out of our mutual sorrow over losing our dear teacher, my childishness, and our collective immaturity and stubbornness.

Forgiveness is not a new subject for me. I still struggle with it. It's the dilemma between having the satisfaction of remaining angry because you hurt me, or the mature, Godly path of being Christ-like, and forgiving my brother (or sister) seventy times seven...even if my brother (or sister) has no idea that she is in need of my forgiveness!

I've heard it preached (not at my congregation, thank God), that God does not bind us to forgive people that don't ask for our forgiveness. I have to disagree. Forgiveness is not a gift that we present on a platter to the ones that hurt us; forgiveness is a gift that God allows us to experience once we have practiced it ourselves. We, the forgivers, are the ones receiving the blessing when we forgive.

Can you hear me trying to convince myself of this? I really do believe it, it's just difficult to practice - but that is how we are supposed to be different from the world.

The benefits for the one doing the forgiving are many. Our spirits become more mature, we strengthen our sense of compassion for our fellow man, our hearts stay a little further from becoming hardened and jaded. But the biggest benefit is the one that lures our stubborn hearts to forgive:

"For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." Matthew 6:14-15

This makes forgiveness go from being a choice to being a necessity. It is a salvation issue if there ever was one! So I will forgive. I forgive the things that happened with my friends so many years ago, I forgive my parents for all the things I whine about as an adult, I forgive my brothers for eating the last Hostess Twinkie without sharing, I forgive my children for sassing and misbehaving, I forgive my husband for making us move to Montgomery (because I really do love it now), and I forgive my friends today for hurting me. Even when they don't know.

I forgive because it makes the world easier, because I am weary of holding a grudge, because I am truly sorry. I forgive because I love all of them, but most of all, I forgive because I love Jesus. I love Jesus for loving me even though he had to die for all the little, petty, insignificant things that I get all upset over. And I want God's forgiveness. Oh, how I long for Him to forgive me, and I know that He does: in the past, in the present and in the future. His forgiveness is written in blood. Literally. And that brings my heart peace.

What a joy to comprehend: forgiveness - it's written in blood.

All About Him

2010-03-29T11:25:00.006-05:00

This week, the week before Easter, it's all about Him. Nothing about me, or my thoughts, or my feelings. Just Jesus. So let's talk about Him, and what happened with Him. Who is He? What did He do? What is important about this week in our Christian history?

This is Jesus' testimony about who he is, taken from different verses of John chapter 10.

"I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep.

I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.

I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

I am the good shepherd.

The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

I am the good shepherd;

I know my sheep and my sheep know me -

just as the Father knows me and I know the Father -

and I lay down my life for the sheep.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.

I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish;

no one can snatch them out of my hand.

My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all;

no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand.

I and the Father are one."

Isn't that captivating? Keep looking through John chapters 10-12.

After saying all of that, and offending many of the very religious people of the day, Jesus went to Bethany, where he proceeded to raise Lazarus from the dead. While Lazarus' family, Mary and Martha were thrilled, and some who saw it believed in Him, this infuriated the Jewish chief priests and Pharisees.

They had a special meeting on what to do about Jesus, one of their own people. "Here is this man performing many miraculous signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation." So it was all about status with them. They were afraid of losing their place in society. Do we ever deny Jesus today, all because we are afraid of losing our status in society? John 11:53 says that from that day on, they plotted to take his life. They determined that their next step would be to arrest him, so they waited for their opportunity.

Mary and Martha, being delighted to have their brother back, planned to hold a dinner to honor Jesus. So, six days before the Passover, Jesus went back to Bethany for the dinner. Picture the scene: Martha served those who were reclining at the table. We know Lazarus, Jesus, Mary, and probably all of the disciples were there. While they were still around the table, Mary took a pint of very expensive perfume, and did something she had done only once before: she annointed his feet and cleaned them with her hair. The first time she had done it, she'd used her tears and perfume. Tears of sorrow from her awareness of her sin. But this time, she used only the most expensive, the purest substance they had in the house: her perfume, called nard.

Judas Iscariot, the disciple of Jesus' who was a thief, claimed to be upset about the waste of money. "Why wasn't this perfume sold, and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year's wages." Jesus knew Judas' true heart and intentions, and He defended Mary. "Leave her alone, it was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me."

While all of this was going on, the Jews found out that Jesus was in Bethany. They were anxious to see Him since He had raised Lazarus from the dead, and they wanted to see the new celebrity, too - Lazarus himself. A crowd of them came to see Jesus and Lazarus, and the chief preists decided that they needed to kill Lazarus too, along with Jesus, for "on account of him, many of the jews were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him."

You can read the whole account for yourself, in John chapters 10-12. In the meantime, here are some questions to ponder.

In what ways do we deny Jesus because we don't want to lose our status?
Jesus says he is the gate to salvation. How does the world seek salvation? How do we seek salvation?
How do we listen to the voice of Jesus, and how often do we listen to the voice of Jesus? How often do we listen to the voice of the world?
How is what Jesus tells us different from what the world tells us?
Do we REALLY believe that no one can snatch us away from Jesus?
If we are in Jesus, do we still have a fear of perishing?
What kinds of things happen within our church families that offend very religious people today?
The Jewish leaders were afraid that the Romans would remove them from their status in society. After Jesus' death and resurrection, what eventually happened between between the Jews and the Romans?
What does it make you think to know that once again, Martha was serving, while Mary sat at the feet of Jesus?
How did Mary have no shame in using her hair to clean Jesus's feet?
How could a group of intelligent, religious men, who knew the scriptures backwards and forwards, decide that killing Jesus and Lazarus would be a good idea?
If He is the good shepherd, and if He is your shepherd, how do you follow Him?

Grace, peace and mercy to you today!

Speaking Words of Life

2010-03-02T10:58:00.004-06:00

Sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life.

Let me more of their beauty see, wonderful of words of life.

Words of life and beauty teach me faith and duty.

Beautiful words, wonderful words, wonderful words of life.

Philip P. Bliss, 1874

We've been talking about Words of Life at church, about how our words either speak life or death, and what it takes to overcome words of death. To say the discussion has been thought-provoking is an understatement. Life-changing, heart-changing, and path-changing, perhaps. It has done far more than just piqued my interest.

An incident I've long since forgiven her for has now become both a source of caution and inspiration to me. Mothering is hard, hard work. Anyone who undertakes mothering knows there are moments we long to forget, actions we wish we could take back, and words we wish we could "unsay." For the life of me, I cannot remember how old I was, but I clearly remember the tone of her voice and the look on her face when my mother said to me, "you are JUST like your father."

It was not a compliment. I'm not sure what my crime had been to warrant the insult; I'd probably been critical or had sassed. Either way, at the time, I knew without a doubt what the message was: I was not being pleasant and charming! Today, that is a benchmark of parenting for me. If I am about to say something to one of my children, will it be a crushing statement of condemnation that they will remember forever? If so, I try very hard to regroup and rephrase. Sometimes I have to walk away. I know that as we move into the teenage years (still about 3 years away), I will struggle more with this.

While the statement was so revealing and hurtful at the time, since then, I have come to hear that statement as an inspiration. It is only through His inspired scripture that I can clearly grasp and explain this concept.

Paul explained in Ephesians 1: 3-8 the love of the Father, and the plan for our adoption. "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will - the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with as wisdom and understanding."

Do you see the richness of our blessing as His children? We are chosen, we are holy, we are blameless, we are adopted, we are his precious, beloved children. And all he wants in return is for us to love Him back, and to, in turn, love one another! In Him, we are redeemed, we are forgiven, we are lavished with His grace! Oh, how loving is our Father, God. God is love. God is gracious. God is forgiving. God is full of mercy. And I want to be just like Him.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." Col. 3:12-14.

So I have to be honest. What was a slip of the tongue, and a slip of the heart, and a great source of pain for me, is now one of my greatest sources of inspiration. I long to hear that phrase said to me again. I can't wait to hear it said to me again. But this time, it will come from my sweet King Jesus, with his heart full of love, grace, mercy and peace: "you are JUST like your Father!"

Blessings, grace and peace to you and your household today! May we all walk in the light together as His dearly loved children.

"Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly

as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom,

and as you sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs

with gratitude in your hearts to God.

And whatever you do,

whether in word or deed,

do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus,

giving thanks to God the Father through him."

Col. 3:16-17

Word of Knowledge

2010-02-09T11:06:00.002-06:00

When I was 19, there was no doubt in my mind that I knew everything. I can't imagine what a pill I must have been! Given the fact that I was all-knowing, it was a shock to me when I made a terrible decision that nearly broke my own heart. I was crying alone in my dorm room one night over this decision that left me lonelier than I'd ever felt, when our R.A. came around for room check.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I sniffed and nodded.

"Alright," she said doubtfully, "well if you need anything, I'm downstairs," she said, and left.

I am so ashamed to admit that I really did not like this girl. I am even more ashamed to admit that I had no good reason to dislike her, except for the fact that she wan't like me in any way. I didn't see her as my equal, even though I was younger than her, and I never felt compelled to befriend her. I see now that I probably missed out on having a very wise friend.

A few days later, I was still moping around, and I went to check my mail. There was a 3 x 5 index card in my mailbox. On it was written the verse, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6" Beneath that, it said, "I don't know what you are going through, but this verse has always helped me. I'll be praying for you." It was signed by my R.A.

Surely I must have read this passage before this incident, but it had never spoken to my heart the way it did when I read it on a 3 x 5 card, as though El Roi, the God Who Sees Me, had spoken His words of comfort and guidance directly into my conceited little heart.

That verse carried me right through a very sad time in my life. I was still sad, but I prayed that verse fervently for months, that God would honor His promise, that if I would just trust Him, He would straighten out the mess I'd made. And He did. Praise God. Oh, how I praise God that He fixed that for me! He fixed that one, and has continued to fix many more of my mistakes over the years, as I've prayed that verse on many more occasions since.

Today I see this whole incident as a divine intervention through His Spirit, by way of His Word of knowledge. Of course my R.A. knew that I was sad, and she offered me a Word of His that could have helped in any variety of situations, but I believe that this was the verse that El Roi wanted me to have. He saw me in my sadness, and gave me a way to come closer to Him, and allow Him to work in my life.

Ever since then, I've found that at certain times, a special verse or passage will come to me that I know can help someone else. Sometimes I pray for it, sometimes God leads me to it, but most often, God lays it on my heart. It's not always a verse straight out of the Bible. A few times, it has been a message that meant almost nothing to me, but meant everything to the person I gave it to. It's a thing in my life that I've come to understand as a Word of Knowledge, and while I freely admit that I do not understand everything about it, I know that His ways are not like my ways, and He is God Most High. I am not. I am just grateful to be a vessel for Him, a child unworthy of the gifts and blessings that He has in store for me, and for all of us who love Him, seek Him, and are willing to be used in service for His kingdom.

And if you call out for insight

and cry aloud for understanding,

and if you look for it as for hidden silver

and search for it as hidden treasure,

then you will understand the fear of the Lord

and find the knowledge of God.

For the Lord gives wisdom,

and from His mouth come knowledge and understanding.

Proverbs 2:3-6

We have not received the spirit of the world,

but the Spirit who is from God,

that we may understand what God has freely given us.

This is what we speak,

not in words taught us by human wisdom

but in words taught by the Spirit,

expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words.

I Corinthians 2:12-13

This Life of Mine

2009-12-15T15:39:00.004-06:00

My cup overflows.

As I type, my feisty 3-year old sleeps in my lap. He has a high fever and strep, and is on an antibiotic. When his fever was down earlier today, I asked him how he was feeling. "Badder." he replied, and then giggled. I could focus on my worry, because his fever keeps getting higher, but I look at his little pink cheeks and feel his hot skin, and I just feel so blessed. I have 3 delightful sons. They fight, they get sick, they sass, but oh what pure joy there is in having a house full of children!!

My cup overflows.

My husband and I are waiting for a phone call from the doctor. He had a test, which has been sent to a radiologist, and we are waiting to hear the results. Of course we are expecting the worst - because I think we always expect the worst - but still, I feel blessed. Today, and for the past (almost) 15 years, I have had a husband that loves me, loves being with our children, and best of all, loves God. He wears himself out serving everyone - our family, our church family, our friends and students at school.

My cup overflows.

My house is a terrible mess. We have a Christmas gathering in 3 days, and I haven't wrapped a thing, or even finished shopping. I haven't mailed the beautiful Christmas cards yet. I have laundry to wash, and laundry to put away. Even so, I feel so grateful, and so undeserving to be able to have a house to clean up, laundry to wash, and people to buy gifts for. I've had money to buy gifts, money to help others, money to heat and light my home, and an abundance of food for my family. The riches of my life are overwhelming, and I am aware of and grateful for every single blessing.

My cup overflows.

I won't celebrate Christmas this year with my brothers and their families, or with my parents. I am sad that we really won't ever be a complete group when we do get together. But I am so blessed to know that they are healthy and living, and they all seek to know the truth, that Jesus came to this earth as a baby, lived a human life just like ours, and then died so that we can be continually forgiven for our human failings. He then conquored death, and then walked around on earth to prove it. He flew up to heaven, and sits beside His father, hearing my every prayer, and interceding for me. I am the adopted daughter of a king, The King, the ruler of all nations.

My cup overflows, and I am amazed.

"For this reason I kneel before the Father,

from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power

through his Spirit in your inner being,

so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,

may have power, together with all the saints,

to grasp how wide and long and high and deep

is the love of Christ,

and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -

that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

Ephesians 3:14-19

Survivor

2009-09-28T10:10:00.006-05:00

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me;

he drew me out of deep waters.

He rescued me from my powerful enemy,

from my foes who were too strong for me."

-Psalm18:16-17

Do you see the survivor in the black shirt? That's my baby brother. We all have our battles to fight in life. We win some of them, but sometimes we don't. I will ever praise God for whatever is was that HE did to bring my brother safely through this one.

Along the very same thought, I will also praise HIM for giving me the richest blessing of knowing and being related to this very strong, courageous little family that has the faith in God and the fight in their hearts to work through all kinds of obstacles.

My prayer is that their lives will be a testimony to the greatness of God, and that every day, every hour, and every minute brings them closer and closer to His heart. Finally, I pray that God will grant all of my family a time of peace, joy, victory, and influence for His kingdom here on His earth.

Some Stuff

2009-06-27T23:29:00.005-05:00

I've been going through some stuff. I hate not sharing the details, but just trust me that it has been emotionally painful. It's not little stuff - things that could be solved by more money, more time, or more knowledge - it's the big stuff of life.

You know what I'm talking about. The events in life that steal our joy, open the door to depression and heartache, and are lasting sources of pain in our memories. So fill in the blanks, and listen while I tell you how I got through it, with the help of my Savior, and my Godly friends.

I was lost. Crushed in spirit, wounded, worried, and overcome with sadness. I couldn't think of anything else but the Stuff. My heart was physically heavy, and I couldn't even sing. That last one might seem silly to you, but if I can't sing, it means every ounce of joy has just trickled right out of my heart. I was the exact person Jesus saw when he looked at the people and "had compassion on them, because they were harassed, and helpless," from Matthew 9:36, and I was the person He was talking to when He gave the warning, "in this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world," in John 16:33.

I feel like I am that person a lot, like maybe God has chosen me for more suffering than the average person. I really don't feel strong enough for that, but I do have faith and I know that God will not, will NOT put on my heart more than I can bear. And I know that because I am a servant of Christ, He will help me through anything, I just didn't know HOW He would do that.

I felt like I was walking around in a fog. Around me, people lived their lives, laughing, talking, shopping, sharing. They did all the things people do every single day. I didn't blame them for acting, well, like normal people, but couldn't understand why they thought I might laugh at jokes, talk, share - you know, live like nothing was wrong - because in my world, everything was wrong. It felt like I was supposed to function normally and flawlessly in a world that was suddenly upside down.

Even when I was at church, nothing felt normal. All the singing that people were doing around me didn't make sense, the sermons lacked real answers, and taking communion when my heart was in despair was baffling. So, knowing that there was no way that I could live every day that way until the problem was solved, I set out to get help.

I told some people what was happening. Most of them were alarmed, offered some compassion and understanding, but still, the Stuff was there, draining all joy before it even had a chance to enter my heart. I kept thinking, if I could just feel, or pray, or force myself to sing, I'd get better. I longed to get my joy back.

The thing is, I have every reason to feel joy - beautiful, wonderful children, an understanding and helpful husband, a home I love, employment that provides the material things we need - but still, there was this Stuff. Oh, the pain of it!

I was disappointed that just talking about the Stuff to some Christian friends and family didn't seem to help. So, because I'd lost my ability to pray, I made a phone call to somebody who prays - not just in private, but someone who prays right there on the spot. This is a Godly friend. She is compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, and patient. She has brought countless blessings into my life, and I know God arranged it so that we'd have just a few moments to talk. Even though she was in the middle of her life, with her kids, driving her car, she prayed right then and there. I cannot stress the importance of this enough. Since all of this, I am committed to praying on the spot no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it may seen at the time. It gives healing.

After that, I experienced a peace that I knew would carry me down the right path. At that point, even though I felt a momentary peace, I knew intuitively that my peace was not complete. I knew there were at least two things still that I had to do; I had to praise God, and I had to pray about the Stuff.

Praising God (as a concept) was so difficult. I still didn't feel joyful, but I knew the words were true. There is power in speaking them. He is mighty God, a Holy God. He is the King of Kings, He is the Lord of Lords. Those things don't ever change. And with that thought, and with that statement, I was able to really praise God, with all my heart and soul. I began to feel that joy in my salvation returning, knowing that no matter what stuff was happening, God was, and God is, and God forever will be. He is unchanging. His love is lavish and generous. He keeps His promises. Oh, the joy in that!

I could have stopped there. I think the enemy even tried to stop me there, and prevent any other healing from taking place in my heart, but I knew that I still had to pray, and I had to mean it. I believe there is a special, supernatural power in praying, but more specifically, when several believers pray. In Matthew 18:20, Jesus said that "where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." I could be wrong, but I believe that is a special promise of Jesus that he made for us when we are experiencing a crisis, although we can take advantage of it any time - not just in times of difficulty.

So, I gathered a few of my friends that I knew would be willing to pray with me. Can I add that it wasn't easy? It didn't fit into our schedules, not everyone that I wanted was able to be there, there wasn't a great location, it required a little rearranging of children and some help from husbands, but we did it anyway. And we had exactly what was necessary: three believers gathered in the name of Jesus. Like my friend above, these Godly women have been a great source of blessing to me. They are also compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, and patient.

I honestly don't know how long we prayed. It might have been 30 minutes, or it could have been two hours, but together, we knelt before the throne of the Almighty God, the creator of the nations. Together, we thanked Him, praised Him, and then placed all the Stuff at His footstool and asked Him to take over, because among us, there was no earthly answer, or ideal solution. I asked for Him to grant me a lasting peace over the situation, and since then, He has been faithful. There are still no easy solutions, but I have not spent a moment in worry or anxiety over it, because I know and I believe that He is mighty to save, and there is nothing that He cannot use for His glory.

This Stuff may not be resolved in a way that I like. It may take years, and it may yet bring more pain to more people, but even so, I know that His solution is the best solution, and there is no amount of helping or talking or making arrangements that I can do to fix the Stuff. Prayer is the most powerful thing I can do, and I trust in Him. He is the everlasting God!

With love, and in the spirit of II Corinthians 1:3-4, I just wanted you to know about it too, just in case you might be going through some Stuff that is troubling your heart.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,

who comforts us in all our troubles,

so that we can comfort those in any trouble

with the comfort we ourselves have received from God."

II Cor. 1:3-4

The Soldier's Bible

2009-05-19T15:11:00.007-05:00

Before I walked into the store, I took a deep breath. I resolved that I would not tell the sales clerk what my situation was. This was my private business, and nobody else's. With the plan and my inner fortitude firmly in place, I gathered my purse and keys, and walked into my local Bible bookstore.

I needed to get a Bible. It had to be a softcover Bible. It needed to be the entire Bible, and in a translation that made the idea of reading more appealing. Not 5 feet from the door was a huge display of the perfect Bibles. Just what I had in mind - with the exception of the small, itty-bitty print. The font was just smaller than what I'd consider ideal, but otherwise, the Bible was exactly perfect.

"Do you have this one with a larger font size?" I asked the clerk. "No," he replied, and he walked over, feeling extra-chatty. "You see this one was made for soldiers. What you can do is buy one of these, write an encouraging note inside, and we will send it to a soldier overseas to let him know that we care and support him." That explained why the Bibles were so inexpensive. The store didn't intend for me to actually keep my purchase - they wanted me to make a donation.

"Well, thank you, I'll have to think about that," I told him politely, and left to look for other Bibles. After a few moments of inspecting the zillions of options, I saw that there weren't any others that would be better suited for my purpose.

I took the soldier's Bible and approached the counter to pay. "Would you like us to send this one out for you?" he asked. "No thank you, I'll be sending it myself" I said, hoping that would be the end of it. "Well, where are you sending it to?" he pressed. Seriously, Lord? I wondered why God was allowing this coversation to take place. Hadn't I made it clear that this wasn't a topic up for discussion?

"I'm sending it to jail," I confessed, feeling defeated. Saying "jail" out loud, to a total stranger, in public, makes it more real, more worrisome, more horrible. He was only phased for a moment, but he shrugged his shoulders and tossed it off, "welp, they need God in jail, too." He handed me my bag and I left. Ashamed. Sad. Wondering who heard me. Not that it mattered who heard me, but still, some things are just - too sad even to whisper out loud.

With humility and great love, I mailed the Bible. It went to jail, but it also went to a soldier. Just a soldier of another sort.

Therefore put on the full armor of God,

so that when the day of evil comes,

you may be able to stand your ground,

and after you have done everything, to stand.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist,

with the breastplate of righteousness in place,

and with your feet fitted with the readiness

that comes from the gospel of peace.

In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith,

with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit,

which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions

with all kinds of prayers and requests.

With this in mind, be alert and

always keep on praying for all the saints.

Eph. 6:13-18

What I Can Hear

2009-05-13T13:13:00.002-05:00

It is naptime. My sassy little boy is in bed. He is supposed to be asleep. Instead, he is alternately chattering away and howling like a wolf. It is precious. Of course I wish that he was asleep, instead of talking, but it's darling to me to hear that little chirpy voice. I love being his mommy.

Most of the time, though, I am terribly distracted from enjoying being a mother. We have to go somewhere, get some mess cleaned up, we are already late, or we are trying to fix some crisis or another. I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to deal with the drama in life, and it is tiring. It makes my heart ache, my muscles ache, my stomach ache.

I do know that God is constantly calling to me, talking words of comfort and wisdom. He is placing little moments of sweetness mixed in with the sorrow I encounter. It comes in the form of Liam, greeting me with an excited "Hi Mommy-princess," which he exclaims every time I wear a dress. It comes in the form of my husband hugging me after I receive yet another stressful phone call. It comes to my mind in the form of songs etched onto my heart as a child, "ye that labor and are heavy laden, lean upon your dear Lord's breast."

Despite whatever circumstances I encounter, I will not have the joy of my children's childhood stolen from me. I will treasure every sweet and silly word they speak, hang on to every snuggly moment I have with them, and celebrate every good grade they earn. At the same time, I will be firm, teach them to submit to authority, and be respectful. I will make them sing at church, and I will discuss with each of them what they learned in class. We will continue memorizing scriptures as a family. Most importantly, I want them to learn to seek God with all their hearts.

In the midst of the storm, I want them to be able to hear Jesus calling to them, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matt. 11:28-30)

Liam is asleep now, and that's my signal to stop writing. I know I have some lofty goals stated here. Most of those things are things we already do. But today, I am even more resolved than ever to lead my sons to the throne of the Most High God.

"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matt. 6:33-34)

Because I'm Addicted to Organization

2009-04-22T20:33:00.006-05:00

I love compartments. I adore individual stacking containers. I embrace the beauty of organization. Sadly, I typically don't carry it out as well as I'd like to. I usually spend lots of money on things like books and beauty products, not clothing or accessories. But when I learned about The Butler Bag, I knew immediately that I'd be spending a lot of money with this company.

No, I do not work for them, nor am I any sort of consultant with them, but if you use any of my links and end up purchasing a bag through my links, I will make a commission. Here's my tip: if you like these, look for the bags that are samples, because they are discounted 40%.

My own very beautiful butler bag was a sample, and was delivered a day earlier than expected. And OH what JOY it brought me!!! I hope you enjoy browsing through the website...and I know you'll love yours as much as I LOVE mine!!

And by the way, I've included a picture of the time my bag and I (along with Jason) had the pleasure of meeting Governor Mike Huckabee.

Why a Clean House Made Me Cry

2009-04-08T13:57:00.005-05:00

As I approached my back door, I could smell the clean scent seeping out from around my doorframe. My hands trembled a little (but they always do) as I slipped the key into the lock, and when I pushed the door open, the cleanliness of my home blew out and washed over me.

After several back-to-back illnesses that I've had, and since Jason's back has gone out the last weekend, the house has been slowly but surely getting completely and overwhelmingly out of control. There has been a literal mountain of clean clothes piling up - it was only 3 feet from reaching to the ceiling - and the dust bunnies in the corners and along the walls had been hidden from view by the stacks of paper for at least 2 weeks, maybe more.

I've either been too tired, or too busy to clean. I haven't had the energy to make the boys to the cleaning. It takes just as much work to do it myself as it does to make them do it. I was beginning to be afraid that someone would drown - not in the pool, mind you, but in the piles of clothes, or in the stacks of paper.

Jason encouraged me to hire someone to come and clean. I've had it done once before, but even entertaining the thought always made me feel so guilty. It would be the motherhood equivalent of throwing in the towel, of giving up on my house that I love, proclaiming to my family, "I'm not good enough!! I can't do it by myself!! I need HELP just to get through normal, everyday family life!!" I cannot bear to make that announcement.

There's also the senseless insecurity that I put on myself as a working mother. I live with the idea that I have to be able to do it all by myself. The only people I should expect to help me are the boys, or Jason. I should not have these feelings at all. Even the best mother ever had a job, and she had hired help. Remember the Wife of Noble Character from Proverbs 31? Verse 15 talks about her servant girls, and verses 16-18, and 24 all talk about the many ways she brings an income into her home.

Frankly, I have to say that I am amazed by verse 15 - this woman has a whole team working for her! Of course she is able to be such a hard worker for her family! She is wise enough to delegate the things that someone else can do, so that she has time to do use her skills on providing and caring for her family. So let there be no more guilt in my home. So long as I am not "eating the bread of idleness" (verse 27), then my efforts and accomplishments are entirely worthwhile.

That comforting smell of bleach actually brought tears of relief to my eyes as I walked through the hall of my house. I felt my throat tighten and a knot pulled into my stomach as everywhere I looked, I could see the evidence of money well spent. Fresh vacuum marks on the carpet. No more dust in the hallway. The trash baskets in the bathrooms were empty. As I entered our bathroom, the sight in my toilet actually doubled me over into the full-blown cry. The toilet was clean. Totally clean. Just like the rest of the house.

It still makes me cry with relief as I sit here typing, and looking around the clean living room. It's not that our house was so filthy that I couldn't clean it - although we were getting close - it's the constant, weighty pressure of knowing that a massive amount of work is closing in on you, trying to suffocate you, and getting worse by the second. The pressure of knowing that the children were making dirty laundry faster than I could wash it, and seeing the pile of dishes in the sink grow by the hour. It's almost enough to make me want to run away. But I didn't this time.

I'm not harboring the naive belief that the house will stay like this. I am a realist, and a practical one at that. There are still piles of toys that I need to box up and get rid of, still papers to sort, still clothes to weed out and give away, but this time I am incorporating a daily prayer for myself, taken from Proverbs 31: 15-28.

Lord, may I get up while it is still dark;

and provide food for my family,

may I set about my work vigorously,

make my arms strong for my tasks.

Extend my hands to the needy,

let me fear not for my family.

Clothe me with strength and dignity,

give me joy when I consider my future.

Fill me with wisdom,

and put faithful instructions on my tongue.

Lord, help me watch over the affairs of my household,

and stop me before I eat the bread of idleness.

Lord, in the name of Jesus, I beg you,

bless my home!

Amen.

Happy 35th Birthday, Jason!

2009-03-13T22:25:00.004-05:00

On March 14, my sweet husband of almost 15 years will turn 35. I thought it was the perfect occasion for a new post, so here are 35 reasons why I love my husband.

He is such a wonderful, easy-natured kind of guy.
He is the best father to our 3 boys.

He shares the same goals I do of having our boys with us as much as possible.

He takes Liam to work with him and never acts like it is inconvenient.

He listens to me.

He doesn't mind cleaning the house.

He rarely gets mad at me.

He doesn't complain.

He teaches our boys how to pray, and how to lead public prayers.

He helps Crispin with his homework.

He has never complained about being the parent to get up in the night if the children need to be taken care of.

He is a very hard worker.

He eats whatever I make happily, and has never criticized or made fun of my cooking.

He loves the same things I do: theatre, good literary works, traveling to historical places, and our boys.

He is endlessly supportive of every whim I take.

He is always happy to take care of the boys so I can get together with girlfriends.

His love for God is evident by kind of life he lives.

He has integrity in the workplace.

He serves the church by teaching all year long.

He can take care of our boys and make it look effortless.

He can sew anything, with or without a pattern, and he knows how to adjust a pattern.

He likes going to Hobby Lobby and Hancock's with me.

He likes it when I sew.

He is annoyed by the same things that I am annoyed by.

I love it that he knows everything about me.

He respects his parents.

He appreciates my sarcasm.

He doesn't get mad when I tell him to walk faster when we are shopping.

He does the dishes every day.

He calls on the way home to see if he needs to stop at the store.

He buys his own clothes and I never have to worry about shopping for him.

He is an Eagle Scout, which oddly enough, comes in handy more often than you'd think.

He is very, very intelligent.

He doesn't care about sports or make us watch any sport EVER on tv, but keeps up with them anyway for conversational purposes.

He buys me great gifts, and is thoughtful.

So there you have it - 35 reasons, and I easily could have kept going!

I love you, Jason! Happy Birthday!

Wesley

2009-01-11T22:26:00.006-06:00

My baby brother, Wesley, was diagnosed this week with Acute Leukemia (APL). My other brother Aaron and I will be tested this week to determine if either of us is a match for him to donate our bone marrow to him.

Wes will be checking into Mercy Hospital in Oklahoma City early tomorrow morning (1/12/09). On Tuesday, he will begin 3-4 weeks of chemotherapy. At the conclusion of the therapy, his bone marrow will be checked for cancer. If any remains, he will begin a second round of 3-4 weeks of chemo. When his bone marrow gets a clear reading that all the cancer is gone, his bone marrow will be removed, and then he will receive a transplant, hopefully from myself or Aaron.

Wesley is 27 years old. He is married to Kayla, and has Avery, who is 4, and Zane, who is 2. Kayla is keeping a blog to give updates on Wesley's health. Right now, Wesley and Kayla both seem to be very positive and upbeat, which is helping them get a lot of things done. You can read her blog here. You may also find Wes on Facebook, and Kayla is also there.

If you want to send notes of encouragement, their home address is:
Wes & Kayla Tur
504 Owens
Edmond, Oklahoma 73013

While Wes is in the hospital receiving Chemo, he will have wireless internet access. His email address is wesley.tur@canaangas.com

Please, please, please pray.

1-800-Rent-An-Indian

2008-12-01T22:28:00.008-06:00

Friday, November 21st, 2008

I was so pleased to get to spend a day with Crispin and the entire 3rd grade of Forest Avenue. His teachers were kind enough to invite me to their annual 3rd grade Camp Chandler field trip.

This field trip is the "experience factor" in their semester-long study on Native American tribes, and I was the featured expert of the day.

There were 3 groups of just around 40 (kids and adults), and I had them all to myself for an hour. I told oral histories (using a few acting skills), had show and tell with tribal artifacts (drums, baskets, jewelry, artwork), taught a few Choctaw words, and then handed out samples of pashofa, a traditional Choctaw food. Yes, that's the pashofa you can see in one of the pictures - so that means I actually prepared pashofa for 120. I think I just like to type pashofa. Pashofa. Ok. Moving on.

We also had a Q & A session with each group, and I am proud to say that I was only stumped one time on a question...what tribe was Sacagawea? For the life of me, I could not remember, but a mother was very nice to remind me after the session that Sacagawea was Shoshone. Score: White man:1, Indian: 0. Oh well, better memory next year!

Here are some pictures of the day for your amusement - and please don't ask me why I suddenly become incredibly expressive and make crazy faces while playing Indian. It's all just a part of the show (unless I am really like that all the time and don't realize it - someone tell, me, quick, am I???)

Ketchup

2008-11-03T13:43:00.003-06:00

Well, we've been dealing with illness and night classes and plays and play practices so long that I have simply had no time to write. But that's ok, because I have had no readers - and that's ok too - and I know that means that I am writing words and phrases that will just float aimlessly in the vast, vast universe, but sometimes you just have write whether you have readers or not. So I'm good with all that, and now that I have gotten that out of my system, let's get into the real issues...

1. Illnesses
I find it highly ironic that Marci and I are teaching the Cure for the Common Life when we really need a serious cure in our household. We've spent all of September and October now sharing germs and recovering at different rates. At this point we will just have to ask God to give us all a blank slate and let us start fresh and healthy, all on the same page at the same time.

2. Visitors
The guests begin Friday with my mother, and end in December, so I may not have time to say much of anything between now and then!

3. The Election
I can't wait for tomorrow to come so that I can cast my ballot and be done with it. God is in control, and I am thankful that He is.

Wow, that was short!
And that's about all the time I have for today, anyway!

God Took My Boat

2008-10-15T12:50:00.006-05:00

Luke Chapter 5 opens with Jesus beside a lake telling people about the word of God. The people crowded around him so tightly that the Savior found himself in need of a stage. Nearby, He saw his friend Simon's boat. He hopped in, had Simon back them into the water a bit, and he sat there and taught the people from the water.

As Max Lucado points out in Cure for the Common Life, Jesus didn't ask permission from Simon to take the boat - he just took it. As Lucado points out, when you're God, you can just do that - take people's boats. I'm certainly not elevating myself up to Peter's level, but there was this one time that God took my boat...

Jason was unemployed, and he kept telling me that he was about to get this certain job. However, I was furious that he was even considering looking for a job so far away from our family. I grew up with no extended family. I didn't want to move and do that to my children. So for as long as I could, I flat refused to believe that he would be hired at this place.

Then came the phone call that we expected. It was, we thought, the offer for the job. As Jason spoke on the phone, I heard the surprise in his voice. Maybe they won't offer him the job, I thought, and then he pulled the phone from his ear and covered the mouthpiece - "they want to talk to you," he said. Would I come for an interview, the man wanted to know? "Yes," I heard myself saying, much to my surprise.

Yes? I said yes? Upon ending the phone call, my immediate thought was that I needed to throw up. I already had a perfectly good part-time job right there, and it allowed me to feel like a stay-at-home mom while at the same time, doing the things I loved: reading, teaching, writing. Every day, for two and a half hours, I taught Honors English while my SPM watched my little boys. In the words of Miley Cyrus, it was the Best of Both Worlds. So what on earth compelled me to agree to an interview?

I sat Jason down to spell it out for him. "I will agree to move if you say we have to," I informed him. "But these are the rules. If we are going to a new place where we have no family, where we know NOBODY, then I am staying home. I'm not working. We will have to live on your salary. I won't put the boys in daycare, and I have no clue who could take care of them while I work. I will go for this interview, but I am NOT interested in getting this job."

It was the strangest interview I have ever had. I had to justify why my name was hyphenated (no clue, really, I was 20 and rebellious); I had to state my position on instruments in worship (none of this actually related to the JOB itself), and I had my husband beside me for the whole thing. Then I met with the person that would be my immediate supervisor. And yes, I was a complete brat, insisting that I was not there to look for a job.

"I didn't intend to work if Jason accepts this job," I told him. "We have two small children, and I will not put them in daycare, and we have no family here that could watch them." Mmm, a tad on self-righteous side, she was. "If I were to accept this, it would have to work completely around Jason's schedule, and as much of it as possible will be done from home," I stated loftily.

"Well, we can give you a laptop, we do have a number of online, evening and weekend courses," and you only have to come in 10 hours a week."

And that's where God took my boat. As we spoke, and as I laid out more "demands," they were met, or explained away. As though the real Gina inside had no choice in the matter, I heard myself on the outside accepting, and found myself walking away, a working mother with a full-time job. It was not what I intended. It was not my plan. It went against everything I wanted for myself, my boys, and my husband. But I know that God took over my boat that day. He stepped in, and directed that I pull away from the shore so that He could accomplish his work, and so that Christ would be glorified.

He knew the challenges that lay ahead for me (clinical depression), and for our family (my parents' lengthy divorce), and He knew, in all his wisdom, that I would need the job that he had just placed in my lap.

At the time, I was annoyed, and irritated at the unexpected turn of events. Peter was also annoyed with Jesus when Jesus ordered him to let his fishing nets out just one more time. "Master," he said, "we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets."

Peter fussed about obeying God, and he could have been a little more eager to do what God wanted him to do. I too, fussed quite a bit. I could have done my work a little more eagerly. But in the end, "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28.

God gave me the job (that I ungratefully accepted) for my own good, so that I could accomplish HIS purposes. Not only are we now able to provide for our children, but we take care of them ourselves, I am forced to be responsible every day in my mothering, and God gives me a platform every single week to teach, encourage, and mentor young people to be compassionate, to be good parents, to be Christ in their communities and in their professions.

Peter was overwhelmed with the mighty power of Christ, and he fell at his knees, and begged Jesus, "go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" I am also overwhelmed with His goodness and foresight, and that He would notice me, and take concern for my future. I fall at his feet, unworthy, and humbled. Who am I, that the mighty God, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords should see me?

Luke 5 verse 10 finds Jesus speaking to Simon, and I too, will accept the words of the Savior: "'Don't be afraid; from now on you will catch men.' So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything, and followed Him."

I follow Him.

E-Mealz is FAB!

2008-10-13T14:12:00.008-05:00

There have been too many sicknesses running around my house this month. I have been well enough to go to work, but too sick to write. I have enjoyed some reading this month: Faulkner's Absolom, Absolom, Jeannette Walls' The Glass Castle, and Erma Bombeck's A Marriage Made in Heaven or Too Tired for An Affair.

I have also thoroughly enjoyed a website that someone from church shared with me, then I heard about later on Rick and Bubba. It's a meal planning site as you can see from the giant ad below.

If you sign up using the link above, I can earn a commission, but I'm not trying to sell this to anyone. I just want you to know that there are options out there, and you don't have to reinvent the wheel every week when the sale papers come out. So far, the amount we buy per week on this has been enough to feed our family more than 7 meals per week. Ask me about this if you want to know more about it, but check out the website - you might be surprised at how cheap and easy it is. They have meal plans for 2, meal plans for 4-6, vegetarian plans, low-carb plans, low-fat plans, ALDI plans, Publix plans, just about whatever you need. Check it out!

NOTE: I am aware the link doesn't fit - but it still works if you click on it. I just don't have time to fix it. I'm off to a chiropractor appointment, and I don't want to be late!

Removing My Sackcloth

2008-10-02T12:59:00.007-05:00

I was minding my own business. At the first possible chance, I had scampered out the door with fabic swatches in tow, appreciative of the fact that Jason is just as capable of taking care of 3 kids as I am. I combed through stacks of neatly folded shirts at Target, trying to find a 2T that would match the swatches I'd brought with me. Not much luck. Nearby, a 3 year-old whined. "But I want to go to Grammy's!"

His mom was sick of it. Who knows what else he had put her through that day, but in his defense, it was after all, the time of day that most small children are cranky and need naps. His crying intensified. Apparently, he was not a fan of shopping, and if he cried much longer, I would no longer be a fan of shopping either.

His mother's griping and screaming at him was having no effect on how much he wanted to go to Grammy's, so she tried another approach. "WHACK-WHACK-WHACK" I could hear it at the outskirts of the toddler department, and before I knew it, angry eyes flashed through my mind, and I saw my old bedroom door slam shut. I stood 6 inches away from the thin door, breathing hard and listened to the smack of heavy hands on a skinny little boy's arms, legs, and back. I cringed with each whack.

This was an accident. He wasn't supposed to get the spanking for the mess his brother made. Maybe I could stop it. I quietly snuck out of my bedroom and peeked around the living room wall into the kitchen. His eyes were wide and frightened as he cowered in the corner, trying to duck. Yelling. Lots of angry yelling. I dashed back to my room.

And I stood there, panting, not sure how I made it from the toddler section to the curling iron aisle. Guilt flooded my heart and mind, overwhelming me with its onset. I should have protected my brother. Why didn't I stop it? I should have stopped it. He wasn't supposed to be the recipient of the residual anger that was exacerbated by unemployment, empty kitchen cabinets, and a desperately filthy house. His giant, dark, terrified eyes made me want to run home and hold my little boys, each of whom have those same dark eyes - only, thankfully, they aren't terrified.

When I skim through the book of Psalms, I am overwhelmed by the passages that jump out to comfort my own inner child's broken trust and broken heart.

"Keep me safe, O God, for in you I take refuge."
"In your anger do not sin."
"My shield is God Most High."
"But let all who take refuge in you be glad"
"My cry came before Him, into His ears."
"He rescued me because he delighted in me."
"He drew me out of deep waters"
"He rescued me from my powerful enemy."

What is a child to do when the powerful enemy is a parent, charged by God with meeting every need of that child? God always provides a way out. It will come through the child's ability to seek and find solitude under any circumstance; it will come from the love the child experiences from outside adults - school teachers, Bible class teachers, friends, and parents of friends. It will come through the healing power of Godly forgiveness.

I am so thankful that even though there were momentary lapses in parental judgement, there was the knowledge that we needed to be at church, in Bible classes, and seeking the presence of God. I found it. I seek to dwell in His presence through continual, joy-filled worship.

An unexpected blessing that I gained from my youth was that an urgency formed in my heart - a drive to seek justice, and to seek relief for the suffering. I can't change any of our childhood experiences, but I find myself continually seeking redemption as an adult - while I felt powerless to prevent the unfairness long ago, I certainly have the power now to carry out the sacred words of the Most Just, Most High God:

Seek justice,

encourage the oppressed.

Defend the cause of the fatherless,

plead the case of the widow.

Isaiah 1:17

To you, O Lord, I called;

to the Lord I cried for mercy:

What gain is there in my destruction,

in my going down into the pit?

Will the dust praise you?

Will it proclaim your faithfulness?

Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me;

O Lord, be my help.

You turned my wailing into dancing;

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.

O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.

Psalm 30:8-12

Presenting...

2008-09-30T01:40:00.005-05:00

Tiny Tim, as played by Crispin South in ASF's A Christmas Carol. Congratulations to Crisp! He is double-cast, so if you'd like to know his performance dates, watch the blog for the list to come out. We think it will be out in about 2 and a half weeks.

My Mini-Me

2008-09-24T20:11:00.002-05:00

I've always thought that if I had been born a boy I would have been a preacher. Maybe that's why God gave me three boys - this is my chance! I know one thing - God has given Crispin my passion for public-speaking.

Today he had to give an election speech for 3rd grade Student Council Representative at Forest Avenue. He told me that it was one of the best days of his life - he got to give the speech several times.

He agreed to let me record it and post it on the boys' blog, so take a look at it here if you are so inclined. It's a hoot.

By the way, he told me he left a line out of it. He also said near the end, "A vote for Crispin is a vote for happiness." I don't know about you, but I am voting for happiness!!

Because I Don't Have The Nerve to Say It In Person

2008-09-20T21:23:00.002-05:00

Great news!! Were you needing to suggest to your neighbor that he needs to take down the Christmas decor? That his dog is too loud? Did you need to tell a dear friend that she ought to consider wearing stronger deodorant, or that she chews too loudly, or that her diet and exercise are really paying off?

Thanks to www.nicecritic.com you too can send someone that message that she has been needing to hear, and it will be TOTALLY anonymous.

"A firmer handshake would project more confidence."
"Stories about your kids are not as interesting as they used to be."
"I suggest you try a different salon for your next visit."
"Please consider trimming some ear hair."
"It seems like your thong is showing."

This website could only be better if we could create our own polite, yet informative anonymous e-mails.

I'd send one to my students in a certain class: "please consider taking some Beano pills before meeting with me."

An Ant Swarm of Humility

2008-09-14T00:39:00.005-05:00

I came home one night with the boys to find swarms of ants all over our living floor. I hate swarms of anything. The boys all needed baths, and needed to be put to bed, but I had to take care of the ants first. On a rare occasion my OCD habits will pop up for an unstoppable outbreak of desperation cleaning, and on that night, it hit hard.

I immediately pushed all the furniture against the back wall of the room and set to scrubbing and spraying as fast as and furiously as I could. The boys looked on, astonished to see me attacking a project so large so late at night. I gave Crispin and Duncan little jobs - take the toys to your room, the dishes to the sink.

Crispin asked if he could get a dollar when he finished, and I was appalled. We do have a set chore for which he can earn 50 cents if he regularly does it, but the nerve he had to ask to be paid for helping me!! "Oh no, you will NOT get any money," I was quick to reply. "Do you think I am going to be paid for cleaning up all these ants? Or for sweeping this room? Or for dusting this house?" I was on a roll. "I won't get paid for anything I do around here - not for washing and putting away your clothes, or your brothers' clothes, or for cooking your meals, or for cleaning your bathroom, and you won't get paid for helping me when I ask for a little help. Don't ask me to be paid!"

He and Duncan left the room, and were gone long enough for me to forget my tirade. They returned, and Crispin said, "Mom, you are going to get paid for cleaning." Was the child confused? Did I hear him correctly? Was there some misunderstanding? "Oh no, I am not," I stated emphatically. "Yes, you are," he insisted. "Duncan and I are going to pay you. We're going to give you a dollar."

He held out his little skinny brown hand with their crumpled dollar, and I thought I would cry. How horrible, and what an ungrateful mother I had been. "No, baby," I told him as I got on my knees and pulled them close for a hug. "I cannot take your dollar. You boys earned that. It's your money. I could never, ever take your money from you."

"I will not let you pay me for cleaning up these ants. It is my joy to be able to do all those things for you. It is my blessing to be able to give you a clean house to sleep in, and good food to eat. If I let you pay me for all those things, then it would mean that I am worthless to you. It would mean that you could just pay somebody to do all those things, and you wouldn't need me here to do those things for you. I clean this house because I love you boys, and I love your Daddy, and I want you to live in a clean, safe house, and I want you to have clean, nice clothes to wear, and I want you to have food to eat every day. I do it because I love you. I cannot take your money. It is my joy and my blessing that I GET to clean for you all. I'm sorry that I was mean, honey. I just didn't understand."

I hear women talk about taking advantage of those "teachable" moments with their kids. I am forever grateful that I saw the teachable moment that God offered me. I am so afraid that my sweet boys will grow up and remember me as a grouchy mom that was always too busy for them, or mad that the house was messy. That's not at all the mental image I want them to carry through life. Oh, that I can be a joyful mother. Oh, that I can still be just as teachable as my precious little boys. Oh, that we change and become like little children, full of humility and love, for such is the kindgom of Heaven!

Cure For the Common Life

2008-09-08T12:54:00.001-05:00

I started teaching a Bible Class last Wednesday night. We are studying Max Lucado's Cure for the Common Life. I am co-teaching with a good friend and co-worker whom I greatly respect, Marci Johns. She is a delight to work with, and even though she is the lead teacher for this course, she has graciously allowed me to take on the first 2 sessions all on my own.

I was thrilled to be teaching in an adult class again. We had a good sized class, and we can judge by how many are there this coming Wednesday whether or not they could stand me. Unfortunately, I suffer from a severe seventh grade case of Wanting To Be Liked Syndrome.

Because there are few things better than looking out at a crowd of people who know and love you, I had really hoped to post here before last Wedesday night's session and invite all my favorite readers (you), but time, babies, and life did not permit. That's ok. I think I had already told most of you anyway. To both my pride and dismay, I think I have the most virtuous group of readers and friends humanly possible.

I am so proud that my friends are the type of girls that teach children's Wednesday night classes, go on mission trips, and volunteer to aid the storm victims. Unfortunately that means that none of them could be there for my class. I must confess to having a smidge of disappointment when their reassuring faces weren't present. The class is about finding your talents and using them wholeheartedly for God. Yes, the book is written by a man, which means there is an undertone of a male perspective, but in a class led by women, the discussion is wholeheartedly female and designed to help women in his service.

If you aren't already teaching, and if there are no storm refugees, and if there aren't extenuating circumstances, I'd love for you to be there. But if you can't be there, just say a prayer this Wednesday around 6:30p.m. and pray that God uses me to speak His words, and that I'll leave myself out of it. When that happens, I know it will be a great class!

Letting Go

2008-08-20T12:47:00.003-05:00

My Sweet Baby Dunc started kindergarten nearly 8 days ago. I was excited for him, and sad that he'd be in someone else's care all day. But he was ready. I just had to make myself be ready, too.

It was easy to get him ready - buy uniforms, shoes, socks, underwear...write endless checks for school supplies, PTA, snack time, field trip T-shirts, and the list went on. It was harder to prepare my own heart, but I managed somehow. When we hugged him at the classroom door, I was strong for him. I could tell he was nervous. His teacher greeted him with a hug, so that really helped me. I didn't have time to cry at that point, because we still had to get our big 3rd grader to his classroom.

After that, we had to drop off Duncan's inhaler with the school nurse. When he has an asthma attack, it gets scary fast, and he has passed out on me before, so I was not going to leave him all the way across town without an inhaler. The schools have such strict rules on medication, and the prescriptions all stay locked up with the school's nurse far away from the child - my child, my poor little sweet, asthmatic boy. The nurse wasn't going to take it since I did not yet have the doctor's signature on the medication form, but I told her that I wouldn't leave the building if his inhaler didn't stay at the building. I also told her I was an attorney, but that makes me laugh now - I never thought I'd toss that around as a threat, but there I was in the office on the first day of school, demanding to get my way, threatening the nurse. Not my finest moment.

Finally, when it was just me and Liam getting into the car to leave, I was ready to weep. But I made the mistake of looking at my phone and noticing that I'd missed a call. It turned out to be something urgent about a student needing to take a test, so I had to run over to school for a minute, and then after that Liam and I chased down doctor's signatures and proper prescription forms the rest of the day. And before I knew it, the day had passed, and it was already time to pick up my big boys.

"You didn't tell me it would last all day," Duncan informed me, after buckling himself in. Oops. Even so, he managed to have a great day and earn a green happy stamp on his hand, much to my relief. Dinner was a rush that night, and so was bedtime. The day just seemed to zip by in a flash, too fast for us to enjoy or despise, either way.

Now that nearly a week and a half has passed, I think maybe we are adjusting to the new schedule. Crispin knows that he has to do his homework right away, or he won't have time to play. Duncan knows that when mom or dad say "GET DRESSED NOW!" for the 3rd time, we really mean it. I've learned that they HAVE to eat breakfast before they get dressed, because clean school clothes are a magnet for anything sticky, wet, or a weird color of blue, red or green.

Letting go of Duncan and letting him go to kindergarten has been sad. But at the same time, he is doing exactly what he is supposed to do. Grow up. Become independent, a little bit at a time. Learn to follow someone else's rules. Learn to obey and respect other adults besides his parents. Make his own friends. Start making his own choices. I want him to do those things, and I am proud that so far, we seem to be on track.

I worry about how I'll do when he goes to middle school, and then high school, and finally college. The thought of being an "empty nester" makes me panic. Don't tell me I have plenty of time - I know how fast it will go by. Crispin is 8, and that time has whipped by, faster than I can blink. In that same amount of time, Crispin will be 16, and practically packing for college by then. See, that empty nest looms just around a corner in my mind.

As hard as it is to let go, I am making myself this promise. I will do it little by little, stage by stage, the very best I can with each of them. I refuse to be the mom that sits in front of the college advisor with her child, and selects his classes for him. I refuse to be the mom calling the university, trying to find out how he can pass a particular class, or get extra-credit. I refuse to be the mom "facebooking" my married child's professors. I see those moms every day, and their kids are still kids, when they should be 18, 19, and 20-year old adults, capable of taking care of themselves.

I am sure I won't be perfect at it. I'd thought I was doing very well at adjusting to school starting, but this morning while preparing breakfast, a bag of wilted salad greeted me from the pantry shelves. I've known that I've been more tired this year, but salad in the pantry? I laughed. At least it wasn't milk in the pantry. Or raw meat. It could have been worse. I just need to remember to tell Duncan that college will be all day long, too...but then again, he'll be making his own schedule, so I'll just let him worry about that - in 13 years!

My First Baby

2008-08-12T08:29:00.006-05:00

I am so blessed to have 3 wonderful, beautiful boys. I love them more than I can put into words. I could spend all day hugging, kissing and squeezing them, and it still would not be enough to show them how much I love them. But fairly often, I feel like I am missing one of my kids. I think I am.

Before we had Crispin, I was pregnant with our first baby. I miscarried at 12 weeks, but the doctors told me that the baby had developed at least to 6 weeks. This is a picture of what my baby looked like.

It was such a painful event, emotionally and physically. I received many cards from our church family that were encouraging. Lots of ladies sent me cards telling me about their losses, which helped me know that I was not alone. Other than that, it is so hard to know what to say when someone has a miscarriage. The term miscarriage is the least upsetting one to me, but I don't think it adequately explains what happened - I was pregnant, and my little tiny baby died. That is a real loss. A loss worth remembering.

This is my prayer for mothers who have had an unborn baby (or babies) die. You can fill her name into the blank.

Heavenly Father,
Blessed is _____ who perseveres under trial, because when _____has stood the test, _____will receive the crown of life that you, O God have promised to those who love You. (James 1:12)

O Lord, the God who saves _____, day and night _____cries out before you. May _____'s prayer come before you; turn your ear to _____'s cry. (Psalms 88:1-2)

Lord please comfort _____who mourns, provide for _____who grieves, bestow on _____a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Lord I pray that_____will be called an oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor. (Isaiah 61:3)

Lord, reach down from on high and take hold of _____; draw _____out of deep waters. (Psalm 18:16)
-In the name of Jesus.

Finally, about 9 years later, I have found comfort and hope in Isaiah 65:17-25, where it talks about the new heavens and the new earth, where babies won't die. This is a beautiful passage that helps me now, so many years later, but I don't think it would have comforted me this much right then at the time when I lost my baby.

As a Christian mother, my bottom-line, end of the road goal is that each of my children choose to walk with God, and that is also where I find peace today. For this baby's life, my ultimate goal as a mother has been fulfilled. I am comforted, knowing that beyond all doubt, my baby lives safe, and joyful in the arms of Jesus.
-Grace and Peace to you and your babies today.

What Color is Your Church?

2008-07-21T07:55:00.006-05:00

One of the reasons we chose the congregation that we did is because people of many races are members there. That might seem like an unusual requirement, but my boys and I are multi-racial, and it has always been very important to me for them to see people of different races worshipping God together. Not only do I want them to see many different races and different backgrounds of people at church, I also want them to see these people actually IN the pulpit, preaching or leading worship - black, white, Spanish, Asian, Mexican, southern accent, northern accent, rich, poor...you get the idea. I want them to grow up knowing that physical differences between people are part of God's plan, and that we all have something beautiful to contribute to His kingdom.

A beautiful Biblical description of this is in Revelation 7:9. "After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb." This massive group that will come before God is the group of His people - the ones who love Him, honor Him, and worship Him.

I know that Heaven will not be segregated, and it troubles me that so many of our churches still are. The church I grew up in had one "ethnic" family - ours. I find that amusing, sad, and alarming all at the same time. It is amusing because we really aren't that ethnic; it is sad because our church failed in outreach, and it is alarming because I think it is so typical of many churches even today. Shouldn't the church reflect the community?

It deeply concerns me that we have made so little effort at drawing in those who don't look like us. You can say, "but we have a black family at our church," or "we have a lady who is Hispanic," or "we support a missionary in Africa," but that is not good enough! Is the community only 1 percent black, or 1 percent Hispanic? No! Is there a minority community living in your area? We need to make an effort at reaching everyone - and having your quota filled with one black family is just not enough.

There are so many issues here that play into this. In many Southern cities, the blacks still have their churches, and the whites have theirs. While I don't think God will condemn us for separate worship services, I do think it is a sad statement that we have not made a greater effort at reaching the unchurched minorities of our communities. It is not the job of the black churches to reach the blacks who do not know Jesus. It is everyone's job. Jesus told us as much in the Great Commission, "therefore go and make disciples of all nations," Matthew 28:19.

Have you ever been to a worship service run by another race of people? I have been to a few black services, and every time, I am struck by the awesome "aliveness" of their worship. It opened my eyes. You could tell that nearly every person was ALIVE in the room, and wholeheartedly and unashamedly worshipping the King. They praised Him, they honored Him, they brought glory to His name. They worshiped in spirit and in truth. John 4:23

I was stunned to realize that THEY have something that WE desperately need today in ALL of our churches. They have LIFE. They have something precious that we need them to share with us. They aren't all sitting on the outermost edges of their pews, just waiting for the chance to get out. They aren't all sitting at the back of the auditorium. They aren't wasting away in the pews, stone-faced and lifeless. They worship Him with both pride and humility, and we are missing a huge opportunity to advance the cause of the Kingdom in our communities.

I don't know the answer to integrating our churches. I don't know the answer to making our congregations more opening, more loving. I do know that I feel a deep stirring that God is calling me to use my knowledge, and my experiences to bridge some sort of racial gap that exists in the church today.

I want to be a part of the church family that unbelievers walk into, see the praise, experience the worship, learn the truth, and "he will fall down and worship God, exclaiming, 'God is really among you!'" I Corinthians 14:25.

So what can we do? What will I do differently? What will you do? Just think about it for now, but be assured that reaching all is His purpose, His mission..."to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ." Ephesians 1:10.

Tidbits

2008-07-13T21:08:00.002-05:00

Liam threw a fit the other day - but that's not news - he throws fits now almost every day because he wants to say something and we can't understand him. We can't understand him because he talks with a passie in his mouth. After one particular fit, Jason was disgusted.

"Liam, it's time for you to stop throwing these fits! You have got to take that passie out of your mouth and say what you want!"

Liam was walking along behind Jason, and Jason happened to look back at Liam as he fussed at him. Liam hung his little head, pulled the passie out of his mouth, and said sadly, "what you want." Precious. He is just almost fluent!

Doing the Hokey Pokey

2008-07-02T22:55:00.007-05:00

I had completely - completely - forgotten about the Hokey Pokey. It's a little Skating Center dance I was too cool to do my entire life. Until today.

I took all three of my boys (for the first time ever, I might add), to Looney's Super Skate Center and just after I had gotten the boys laced up and stood them up, I heard that old familiar call..."And now, it's time for the Hokey Pokaaaay!"

An inexplicable rush of sheer joy took me over. I looked at the boys with big eyes..."come on, it's the hokey pokey! Hurry!! We don't want to MISS it!!" Duncan's interest was piqued. He actually might have run out there with me if Too Cool Crispin hadn't been there to let him know that doing the Hokey Pokey with your mom was NOT a good idea.

Oh, is my sweet baby to that age already? Eight is such an awkward age. You still need your mom to protect you from bees, and to Google terms like "Black widow spider," but you definitely do not need her beside you out in the middle of the skate center "shaking it all about."

At least I still have the joyous, unjaded, easily amused Liam...while he only watched me "shake it all about," he was at least willing to stand beside me and look at me all the other mommies with wonder. Come to think of it, that's what most of the mommies were doing: trying to convince their little ones that the doing the Hokey Pokey would be a blast. And for them, seeing all of us "shake it all about" while they stood around probably was a blast.

Perhaps I'll add that to my long list of Life's Little Mysteries: Number 137, Why Doing the Hokey Pokey is Only Fun After Age 30. That closely follows Number 136, Why I Cannot Arrive Anywhere On Time No Matter How Early I Leave.

Seriously, this really was a fun event for all of us. Upon our arrival, a man from the skate center came out to the car to help me bring all the equipment inside: kids, bags, little toddler cars. On Wednesdays (in the summer) from 9:30a.m. until 11:30a.m., Looney's has Toddler Time. You can bring your wee ones and their vehicles to enjoy the skates, disco ball, bouncey castle, bouncey obstacle course, cartoon movie, and arcade games. They even had a little skating lesson, drag race for boys, drag race for girls, and an organized snack time (apple juice and cookies). It was ONLY $3.00 per child!!! And Mommies skate free!

The music was great, too. It was the best mix of YMCA, Macarena, Hokey Pokey, and Children's Praise Music I have ever heard. I never knew that children's church songs were so much fun to skate to, but now that I have this knowledge, I don't think "Eye of the Tiger" alone will ever provide me with complete skating satisfaction again.

So have you been skating lately? Or have you been like me, and neglected your child's Roller Skating abilities for 8 years? If you have, come join us at Looney's Super Skate Center on Wednesday, around 9:30a.m. My boys will be trying to figure out how to lace up their skates. I will be doing the Hokey Pokey.

What ARE you?

2008-06-26T14:21:00.005-05:00

I love teaching my course "Cultural Diversity." It runs through a history of the United States, and then gives a skimming overview of the major ethnic groups in the US today. Then it attempts to address the racial issues facing the entire Criminal Justice system today. Quite lofty, I know.

Over the semesters, it has become standard for at least one student to ask me at every introductory lecture, "and what ARE you?" This is a question that I am now accustomed to hearing, and finally no longer offends me. In fact, I look forward to the question being asked of me, because every time I answer, my answer gets a little better.

My response to the young woman who asked me last Saturday, "and what ARE you?" was quite passionate...

"I AM a mother, a wife, a Christian, a professor, an attorney...
but my mother was born to a Choctaw woman, and a man from Greece,
and my father was born in Cuba, to parents who were decendants of Eurpoean immmigrants,
and THAT is where I come from.

In this day of all the political talk about race, and what role it plays today, let it be heard that I refuse to be defined on the basis of where I come from - because that is not who I am. I am quite proud to define myself on the basis of what I continue to accomplish - my choices make me what I am.

What are you choosing to be?

To Jason

2008-06-21T21:22:00.011-05:00

Dear Jason,

Thank you, my very best friend, for forcing me to do something crazy, something unplanned, something that you KNEW I would love.

Thank you for insisting that we leave behind the insanity of our lives, thank you for insisting that we leave our most precious children in the care of Christian family we love dearly, thank you for being interested enough in me to spend a week at sea with me alone (and 2,500 strangers). Thank you for giving yourself a break and putting our marriage first and your sanity first as we face a difficult school year ahead.

Thank you for driving all night to get us there on time, thank you for endless games of BananaGrams, thank you for taking me to an island and THANK YOU for taking me to see the Maya Ruins at Tulum.

Nearly every minute was a dream come true, and a trip that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

How I love you! Along with raising our boys, being your wife and your helpmeet are the greatest joys in my life. I love, love, love you. (And please forgive me for this uncharacteristic semi-public display of affection).

All my love,

Gina

A Daily Prayer For Marriage

2008-06-01T08:05:00.002-05:00

Pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.

With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.

Ephesians 6:18

Pray this prayer as though it has already happened -

because in God's time, it already has...

Pray this for your husband...

God gave__(his name)___wisdom and and very great insight, and a breadth of understanding as measureless as the sand on the seashore. ___(husband)__'s wisdom was greater than the wisdom of all the men of __(your congregation)___, and greater than all the wisdom of __(your state)___. I Kings 4:29-30

He reached down from on high and took hold of __(husband)___, he drew ___(husband)__ out of deep waters. Psalm 18:16

And pray this for you...

___(wife's name)__ will praise the Lord who counsels __(her)___; even at night __(wife's)___ heart instructs __(her)___. ___(wife)__has set the Lord always before __(her)___. Because He is at __(her)___ right hand, ___(wife's)__ will not be shaken. Therefore, __(her)___ heart is glad and __(wife's)___ tongue rejoices; __(her)___ body will also rest secure. Psalm 16:7-9

Conclude with this prayer for both of you...

And finally, we pray that there is one thing ___(husband and wife)__ do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, ___(husband and wife)__ press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called ___(them)__ heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen. Philippians 4:23

The Jig's Up

2008-05-14T22:51:00.002-05:00

Or, as a friend put it today, "I told you all that good luck couldn't last!"

Well...I am quite certain that all the events as of late have NOT been luck, nor are these. The fact is, I have been grounded by God. He has said, "enough. Stop it right NOW."

So Saturday night I started running a 100 degree fever, having low back pain, then all day Sunday it moved to the front, kept running a fever, had pain that was excruciating. Finally at 10 pm Sunday I could not stand it one more minute, and so we went to the emergency room, where it became testing galore. CT scan, X-Ray...morphine drip...all they could find were kidney stones in my kidneys that didn't seem to be going anywhere.

Monday morning I went home, and slept most of the day, because I needed to be ready for a lecture on Tuesday that I was giving to police officers on the topic of child custody. Tuesday I was pretty hoarse, and tired, but I did my thing anyway. Until my voice ran out Tuesday night.

Wednesday morning I woke up with full-blown laryngitis. And NO energy whatsoever. And now the top of my lungs ache.

This does not sound good. I see the doctor tomorrow morning. I am going to beg him for a shot.

BEG. If you call me on the phone, I won't be answering - there's nothing to say hello with!

Blessings Abound

2008-05-04T16:54:00.007-05:00

My cup overflows. What more can I say?

Crispin confesses that he believes that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God...

and then he is immersed in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of his sins...

and he arises a new person, a recipient of the Holy Spirit and ready to live for Christ!

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!

Praise God!

2008-04-25T09:14:00.002-05:00

I PASSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you everyone for praying!!!!

Calling friends now.....if I can stop crying!

Please Pray...

2008-04-23T21:23:00.005-05:00

For Rachel. Today, she lost her second husband, and the father of her two small children in a tragic plane accident. Her first husband also died suddenly and unexpectedly.

She is the granddaughter of Jason's step-grandfather, and has already endured too much heartache and loss in her young life. I hate being so far away at times like this.

Pray that God is not allowing her more grief than she can bear, and pray for her two babies, and pray for their entire family. Pray, please pray.

Our hearts are broken for her.

Lord, heap love, comfort, wisdom and strength upon her. In the name of Jesus.

It's Not You, It's Me

2008-04-20T00:45:00.003-05:00

Dear Target,

Oh, how it pains my heart to write these words, but I am afraid our relationship must soon draw to a close.

The days you hired Mr. Mossimo and Mr. Mizrahi must have been happy days for you, but I must finally admit that I truly do not understand the fashion palette from which you select your designs. Granted, I am fashionally-challenged at best, and lack the taste worn by the masses, but still, even with a handicap as great as mine, there should be at least a frock or two that I would find acceptable.

Today I had one spare hour, and I decided to give it to you, and give you one last chance. Alas, I spent my ill-fated visit much as I have spent countless previous hours at your place: thumbing through rack after rack of complicated seams and painfully thin tees that I am positive will fall apart after only one washing.

If I break down and purchase one of the thin tees, then I will also have to purchase a cami-tank, and then I will have to purchase a pair of those pants with the horrid pockets on the mid-thigh that adds more visual pounds than the actual excess pounds that I already carry.

...sigh...

Must I also recount for you the numerous times that I had to look up just to verify that I was, indeed, browsing in the correct department? Please explain to me why you must make us all wear the same style blouse whether we are pregnant or not? Had I known that I was supposed to be wearing maternity shirts (though I am not now, and shall never again be pregnant), I would not have spent 4 good hours cleaning all the maternity clothes out of my bedroom.

Here's an idea: if we must all wear maternity blouses, could you at least sell them all with a phrase painted across the front: either "No Baby Here" or "Currently Gestating," just so that I don't have to explain to my boss that I am not pregnant, I am simply fashion-forward.

I can see that you simply have nothing to offer me either today, or in the future. As I mature with great grace, I doubt that I will be inclined to wear any of the wild patterns, odd cuts, or synthetic fabrics that you have now offered for years. In fact, as the years have gone by, I find myself even less tempted (if possible) by your shirts that require multiple ironings even fresh out of the dryer, fabrics that have (dare I say) sheen, and blends of fabric that shrink with each wash.

Yes, I know you have been faithful and attentive to the fashion needs of women of all ages, and this may come as quite a blow to your self-esteem, but please rest assured that the problem is actually within my own mind, and not within your walls. I am sure you will continue to please thousands upon thousands, and your future will be secure with those girls and women who have far more discriminating taste and more fashion understanding than I do.

Sincerely,

Gina
Your Most Confused Customer

Sweetness

2008-04-19T13:38:00.002-05:00

Crispin has just turned 8 this month. A few nights ago, after reading a bedtime Bible story to Crispin and Duncan, I thought it was time to stoke the little spiritual flame in his heart.

"Crisp," I said, "now that you are getting older, you are getting closer to making a decision about obeying God. You need to be thinking about what kind of decision you will make when your heart tells you it's the right time.

"I think next Sunday would be good, mom." he said, much to my surprise. "Yes, me too," echoed Duncan.

Really, I was not trying to rush them. I just wanted to keep the door of spiritual communication open.

"Crispin, why do you want to be baptized?" I asked. I do not want him to do this unless he really understands and is truly ready to commit his life to God.

Duncan piped up. "Mommy, I know why I want to be baptized." Sweet little Dunc - "How come you want to be baptized, Duncan?" I asked.

"Because I want the Holy Spirit to come live inside of me."

Oh, precious baby. He's only 4. How does he already understand something it took me decades to learn?

"Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." -Acts 2:38

Copesettic

2008-04-16T12:07:00.003-05:00

Last night I spent a delightful evening with a good friend and a new friend, and a lovely lady who sells jewelry and gave out free advice for Mothers of Boys. It was fun, and a pleasure to host people in my home again, this time without Filthy And Embarressing Carpet. I had roses from my front garden, and I have to say that it's a good thing to spend a few minutes wearing Martha Stewart shoes.

After everyone was gone, and the munchkins were in bed, this strange feeling washed over me. I'd come to that intersection in life where relief, peace, joy, and calm all briefly meet. "Jason," I said in a stunned voice, "I have nothing to do."

He frowned. Perhaps he was woried that I wanted more to do. "You could sleep," he suggested. I'd stayed up until 4am the night before, and he still had to go back to the theatre for the night. "No, I think I'm going to eat," I informed him, as eating is one of those tasks that often falls by the wayside for me when I am swamped, as I have been the last few weeks.

So I spent the remainder of my evening polishing off the party snacks, and lazily watching back to back episodes of The Office. I did not even feel guilty for a second, and I still don't. The house was clean, the children were tucked in, I (temporarily) had no urgent task to complete - and once again, I, Gina South, hereby make a resolution:

Never, never, never again will I over-obligate myself as I have this past...month, no, past year. Gina is officially just a Mommy who has a job. And that is plenty for me.

A Letter To AT&T

2008-04-09T13:04:00.002-05:00

Did I hear the commercial incorrectly? I truly hope so. It ran on the Rick & Bubba affiliate this morning. I hope I just misheard or misunderstood the intent of the commercial, but I for one, did NOT find it amusing. Sometimes I feel like a lone voice crying out in a desert - doesn't ANYbody care about children?

Dear AT&T,
After hearing your commercial on the radio this morning, I was so thankful that I do NOT use AT&T and now I never will. At the conclusion of the commerical, a child's voice says, "I love you, Mommy!" and the woman says, "I'm outta here!" in clear disgust at the thought of having a child.

EVERY SINGLE DAY there is a story on the news about some child brutally murdered by its own parents somewhere in this country, and this distateful commercial only reinforces the pervading opinion that children are a burden and aren't worth being cherished. I cannot believe that a megacorporation like AT&T is actually running an ad like this. You should be ashamed.
Sincerely,

Gina South
Proud mother of 3 delightful children
Montgomery Alabama

Gina M. Tur-South, J.D.
Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice and Legal Studies
Faulkner University
5345 Atlanta Highway
Montgomery, AL 36109
334.386.7921
gtursouth@faulkner.edu

Party Time!

2008-04-07T15:49:00.002-05:00

The Party Season is arriving at the South House (Birthdays, Pool Parties, Play Parties, etc.) and we are kicking it off on Tuesday, April 15th with a Jewelry Dress Up Party. This is a Silpada Party, and it will last from 6pm to 8pm. All interested ladies are invited, and please bring a friend. If you have any questions, please call me at 356-1017. By the way, my out-of-town girls are welcome, too - you girls can even spend the night if you'd like!

Our address is 130 Natchez Drive.

Here's a link to check out the Silpada jewlery site...

http://mysilpada.com/sites/jenni.clark?pageCode=HOME

Surviving Your Parents' Divorce

2008-03-27T23:12:00.006-05:00

It has been almost exactly 3 years since my mother told me that she and my father were going to divorce each other. It has been such a long, rocky path since that night. My brother had broken the news to me earlier in the day because he wanted to prepare my heart. He'd been telling me for several months before that the usual amount of strife in my parents' marriage was increasing.
"I think they are going to get a divorce, Gina." He told me in his what-do-I-do voice. "They probably are," I told him calmly. "You know their marriage has never been good, and really, I always expected Daddy to grow old in Florida, and for Mama to live the rest of her life in Oklahoma." Where did that calm, rational Gina go? What happened to her? I think maybe I miss her, but on days like today, I think that was not the real me talking to my baby brother.
On days like today, I feel hollow, like a bottomless pit. I feel numb. Food has no taste. I am sad, but I can't put my finger on why. I could give you a hundred reasons, but they sound empty, like I am making them up. I know my voice sounds flat, and I can't concentrate long enough to explain why I am depressed. I just want to be held, to be given that comforting love that holds you while you cry and tells you that everything is going to be alright.

On days like today, I know that God sends people into my life to check in on me. He gives me appointments that I must keep, things that will get me out of my bed, force me out of my house. I am so tempted to stay inside under a heavy blanket.

On days like today, God gives me a little baby that makes me smile at each word he says, that has a face so expressive, that you can't do anything else except respond to his wonder and amazement with the world. God also gives me a Duncan that obeys with a smile because he is trying so hard to earn a "No fit" sticker that will lead him to a little playdate with a friend. God gives me a Crispin that reminds me of so much of myself, that I long to do better with his heart than was done with mine. God gives me a husband that is patient with me, and long-suffering with me when I live under this cloud of depression.

On days like today, everywhere I look, I see and hear God's word, whether it is scripture on a blog I read, or whether it exists in nature. I see the earth worship Him, and the trees clap their hands in praise to Him. So I am at least reminded. Reminded of who it is that pulls the sun up in the morning, the moon out at night, and provides me with the very air I breathe.

Everything, every thing constantly points me to look to Him.

Surviving your parents' divorce is painful. There are days so bleak that you think the pain will never end, but there is also wisdom, strength and a hard-earned peace that comes from seeing the impact of your parents' wrong choices. Surviving your parents' divorce is exactly that: your parents' divorce, not yours (although it may feel like you are getting one, too). If your heart is willing, and you if you look to Him, God will walk with you through every rotten second of it.

He will provide you with friends when you need a friend. He will be the strength you need when you are weak. He will constantly love you. He will also allow you to feel very alone when you need to turn to Him, and when you need to lean on Him. When you feel alone and sad, God will quietly remind you that He wants to be the one that you pour you soul out to. He wants to be the one to lead you out of the wilderness.

God's word is filled with comfort. It is comforting to me to know that God hates divorce. I like to think He hates it because of the immense pain it causes everyone involved. It's usually not just the husband and wife that feel pain from divorce, it is the children, the parents, the friends, the future grandchildren that lose the heritage that a lasting marriage provides. Divorce creates its own legacy, and my Father did not want me to know that pain, even though He always knew I would.

This has been an ardouous three years. After telling me they were divorcing, they changed their minds, then changed them again. Then they had The Battle That Would Not End. They both involved me and my brothers in it along the way. I learned to stand up for myself and demand to be excluded from the minutia of their divorce. I learned to appreciate the relationship I have with my brothers and their families. I learned how to explain divorce to my children. I held my little boys when they cried over the loss of a marriage they never saw. I held my children.

I finally - reluctantly - became an adult. I missed out on being a child, but that's ok - the God that made Sarah have a baby in her golden years can give me a joyous youth when I come home to Him, hopefully after I am well into my golden years!

Home is such a beautiful word for me now. Home means that one day I will be held close by my Father, and comforted for the hot searing pain I've felt in my heart. It will be a home in which there is no strife, a home filled to overflowing with love and forgiveness. Won't that be wonderful? Isn't that wonderful now, today?

Lord, how I praise you and thank you for bringing me safely through my parents' divorce! I humble myself at your footstool. You are all I need, Father. You hold me in your hand. How mighty you are!

A Bad (but Really Exciting) Poem

2008-03-03T10:04:00.003-06:00

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My house is a wreck
There's so much to do
The floors need a mopping
And the countertops are sticky
My hair needs a washing
Housekeeping is tricky!
The carpet is pitiful
And the bathroom needs painting
Stacks of papers needs sorting
But in my mind I'm arranging
A vacation for me
When the dogs can be boarded
My 4 boys and I will play
We need to be rewarded
For all this housework is endless
And our lives are so busy
But I see escape in our future
And there's no housework at DISNEY!!!!

This is THE DAY!

2008-02-28T11:47:00.005-06:00

That's me, breathing 10 thousand great big sighs of relief because the TEST IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, what joy is filling up my household with each new breath! I cannot decide what to tackle first, now that I can DO ANYTHING I WANT!!!!!!

Should I sew? Read? Clean? Organize? Cook? Put on my dance exercise videos and get down? I truly cannot decide. I even have the overwhelming urge to mop, dust, and pay bills! Oh! Or I could clean out my refrigerator!!! OR SCRAPBOOK!!!!!! I am having a little fit, just thinking of all the wonderous things there are to do in this beautiful world. I have already played in the floor with each of my babies, and that has been the best thing yet. Oh, but the things I can create, clean and rearrange are just calling out to me everywhere I look!

I just might explode into one puffy ball of fabric, yarn, string and paper! Oh, the joy of being FREE!!!!

This is the day that the LORD has made! Let us REJOICE and be GLAD in it!

5 Barley Loaves and 2 Fish

2008-02-19T19:44:00.005-06:00

The crowds of people were hungry and tired. Jesus and the apostles knew they needed to be fed, but Philip was overwhelmed by the amount of money they would need to feed them - 8 months' wages! Jesus already had a plan, but of course his friends didn't yet realize that God is always in control, and always has a plan that will astonish and amaze us, and ultimately bring Glory to Him.

Andrew, who must have been idealistic, a dreamer, and a problem-solver all rolled together, was able to find someone in the crowd with food - a little boy, of course. Andrew brought him to Jesus and the others, and offered this as his best solution and their last hope:

"Here is a boy with 5 small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?"

You know the rest - God used His Son to work one the greatest, most amazing miracles we have recorded. Five thousand, maybe more, were fed until they were full off of the little boy's 5 barley loaves and 2 small fish. There were even 12 baskets of food left over, after everyone had finished.

I wonder, were the apostles filled with dread as they told people to sit down? Were they fearful or scared that maybe Jesus wouldn't be able to pull it off? But He did. And just like I try to remind myself and my friends who are enduring a struggle, God has already worked out the solution - He in His omnipresence has already conquered the battle. Whether the battle is past, present, or future, He has already fought it - He knows the outcome - He is the victor.

And here I sit, typing for all I'm worth - I need to be studying - but this story has weighed so heavily on my heart for the last week, that I simply cannot go one more day without posting it.

I am coming to the Lord and to my little internet world idealistic, a dreamer, a problem-solver. One who has studied for weeks and months, but all I have to show for it is 5 small barley loaves and 2 small fish. My sacrifices that I have made have been so much greater than I can ever put into words, but still, that is all I have to show for it.

I can see that the miniscule amount that I have learned is just not enough for the vastness, the many thousands of facts, laws and rules that I need to know. But it is the very best that I can do, and so with the heart of a child, and with the faith of one who clings to the overwhelming love that is in Christ Jesus, I am willingly offering my 5 small barley loaves and 2 small fish to Jesus, to take and bless it, and make it what it needs to be, so that I can let go of this pressure, this mighty weight that has hung over me since I graduated from Law School in 2000.

I went to law school so that I could help children - be a child advocate - and look after their interests. Of course I was also thinking, "oh, I can set my own hours, raise my family, have the life I want..." I was so naiive. A girl who becomes a mommy just can't do it all. No matter who tells you that you can be anything you want to be, please don't believe them. Yes, you can accomplish ANYTHING you set your mind to, but you can't BE EVERYTHING that you want to be.

I am still going to be my favorite thing to be - a Mommy, yes, even a Busy Mommy, but I also see that this is the time to lay the groundwork for the future things I will do to help the children that I read about every day in the news. The children who are locked into cages by their foster parents, beaten by their grandparents on street corners, shut into suitcases and thrown into oceans, forced to assist in the dismembering of their parents - I can't help every one of them, but God has placed the horror of their lives on my heart, and I MUST do something in the name of Jesus and through His love to help them. Even if it is just one of them.

So here's what I'm going to do. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (February 25, 26 and 27) I will sit down with my little loaves and fish, and I will do the very best I can with what I have, and I will let God work His miracle. And here's what I'd like you to do: if you think of me, any time between now and then, please pray for my children, and for your children, and for all the precious children that need someone to look after them. And then pray for me, and pray that God will work His miracle. And I have faith - even though it is like a mustard seed - I have faith that God will do this one small thing, for His Glory.

Grace and peace to you.

Hypochondirac or Attorney? Only Time Will Tell...

2008-02-16T23:32:00.006-06:00

I am pretty sure my kidneys are failing. My liver has hardened, and I have a tumor growing in my stomach. I think I have a rare sleep disorder, which causes me to stay in REM too long, which does not allow me to absorb knowledge as most people do during the 2nd and 4th stages of sleep, both crucial to learning.

I have the disorder that makes you pull out your eyebrows. I have forgotten how to cook. It hurts my feelings that Liam won't eat the eggs I make him for breakfast. I am not capable of interacting with people in a normal social setting. I do not want to leave my office. I can't stop swallowing, or yawing, and I CRAVE vegetables, but I can't figure out where they come from.

EVERYTHING smells funny: my office, the drawers I open, my car, the dogs, my children, the water I drink, the air...

And, in case you forgot...I am studying for the bar exam. Multiple diseases...massive studying... Coincidence? I think not.

Why Do We Let Women Vote?

2008-02-05T23:13:00.002-06:00

Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, stand down. Ladies, we have lost the battle, and our minds as well. It is no secret that I can't stand other female drivers, and now I am worried I'll have to expand my list to include female voters.

I love politics. It is intriguing; this mix of history and future all rolled into one big battle for the title "Leader of the Free World." It inspires me to think grand thoughts of the formation of our nation, how our Constitution came to be, and the common desire that the founding fathers had for justice and frededom. Oh, I can wax patriotic.

However. The idea of voting for one candidate or another based on things other than "the issues," is reprehensible to me. Like suggesting that Obama would take the black vote simply because he is black. Please. Can we get anymore condescending? I think blacks are capable of evaluating the issues and selecting a candidate.

So why, why, why have I seen women all over television proudly announcing that they are voting for Hillary because she is a woman, and it is "time for a woman to be President." Did an alarm sound and I missed it? Does Hillary have some fabulous record that I don't know about? Is she suddenly NOT polarizing, condescending, and now totally in touch with Americans?

Wasn't the whole point of Sufferage that women were intelligent individuals who could think for themselves, and could make up their own minds about who to vote for? Then WHY did I hear a black woman being interviewed yesterday talking about how angry she was that Oprah isn't supporting Hillary? "She's all about women, and empowering women, so it's wrong that she is backing Obama," the black lady said. What the heck? That's the worst logic I have ever heard. Girls! Can we make a pinky promise to at least use good logic when we are interviewed on national tv?

On a lighter note, two astute radio hosts who shall remained unnamed had a very amusing political thought this morning...they discussed the "what if's" of having Bill Clinton as First Gentlemen. When Hillary is meeting with heads of State and various foreign dignitaries, will Bill be entertaining their wives?

Our Sweet Little Adorable Babies

2008-01-29T22:14:00.003-06:00

Left: Mommy 'n Maddie in our matching jogging suits.
Right: Maddie in her pretty, pretty dress.
Below: Daddy and Buster Brown, our new baby Chiweenie. And yes, I fashioned Buster's turtleneck from one of Daddy's socks.

Here's the deal: if you tell me it is homeless, I'm jist a girl who cain't say no!!!

5 Random Things About Me

2008-01-29T08:57:00.003-06:00

1. I love the idea of being an inspiration to those around me. Whether it is my husband, or my children, or my students or friends, I want to inspire them to greatness - being a greater person, a greater Christian, a contributor and active participant to our community...

2. Right now, because I am studying and thinking of legal things so much, I am confused about the simple things. Like food. I have all this food in my pantry, and when I look at it, I am baffled. I don't know what matches up with what, or how to put together a meal, or what my kids should eat for dinner.

3. Same as number 2 above, except substitute "clothes" and "closet" for "food" and "pantry." And instead of "eat," think "wear."

4. When I am under stress, I have very vivid dreams. So far, I have dreamed about losing our Constitutional right to Interstate Travel, losing the Freedom of the Press, I've woken up singing the duet between Marion the Librarian and her Mama (both parts), I've woken myself up listing the Insanity Defenses, and I've dreamed pictures of lists: Specific Intent Crimes, General Intent Crimes, Intentional Torts, and Freehold Property estates. Last night I dreamed about Jason. :-)

5. I laugh out loud when I think about prank calling the State Bar office and asking if they wouldn't mind making this year's exam an open book test. Ha ha ha. I am laughing now - I crack myself up!

Why I Am a Blogger

2008-01-16T23:39:00.003-06:00

I blog, thinking that someone who was neglected as a child will realize that they have to be checked in as a parent every second, clued into the fact that kids need love, guidance, and affection, no matter how mature they seem.

I blog, thinking that someone whose parents are splitting up will come here and know that they aren't alone.

I blog, thinking that someone who wants to know what a Spirit-filled life can be like will come here and then become inspired to read more about God, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

I blog, thinking that people I have wronged in the past will come here and see that I am sorry, that I have changed, and that I am trying so hard to be a better person.

I blog, because my heart is so full of emotion that it spills out onto my fingers and has to go somewhere - writing it all out in an organized fashion - it heals me, somehow.

I blog because I have so much that I want to say, and if I blog it, then it's as good as said - and if people don't want to hear my preachy commentaries on the world, or hear mommy-love filled stories, or my latest spiritual musings, or hear me whine about how difficult the trials and tribulations of Gina are, then they don't have to read it. But I've still said whatever is on my heart, and I still feel better for having said it.

Contrary to what one might think, I won't reveal EVERYTHING. Generally speaking, I am not a very private person. But some people I love are, and for that reason, when I blog, I've always tried my best to be as fair and loving as possible, and reveal only those things that I can use to help others. None of my blogging is intended to hurt anyone. I am sorry if it does. But I write with my salvation in mind, and I believe that whatever I experience is for me to use in a loving way to help others to find their salavation as well.

And that, in a nutshell, is why I am a blogger.

Another Day, Another Dollar?

2008-01-13T21:54:00.002-06:00

Because I view myself as a daughter of the King, a Wife to Jason and a Mommy to my boys before anything else I do, I refrain from writing about my job, or my students, or co-workers. In general, I don't think it would be fair to them if I focused on that here. Not that I have anything bad to say - I don't. In fact, I love my co-workers, and I love the vast majority of my students.

One of my favorite subjects (Cultural Diversity) is a class that I teach online. The course is essentially about the importance of treating those we encounter while on the job who come from cultures not like our own with the utmost respect. We discuss things like ethnocentrism, debate whether or not our nation is a melting pot, and question why poverty and race have anything to do with crime statistics.

I meet with my students only 2 times in person. I try very hard at that first meeting to learn who they are as individuals since I won't be interacting with them face-to-face during the rest of the semester. Today I received a note from one of those students requesting an extension on an assignment due to a recent intense investigation he has been involved with at work.

It didn't dawn on me until after I replied what it was that he has been working on. The same bridge that we joyfully drove across this past September on our way to our wonderful family beach vacation is the same bridge my student has been searching under for someone else's 4 precious babies. The story in the news has made me so sick, and it breaks my heart to know that my student has been involved. Please pray for my student, and the people hurt by this horrific crime.

It is very easy for me to lecture on these topics in class as long as everything is "in theory." I can have a theoretical discussion all day long on race, crime, legal issues, and the like. But when faced with the knowledge that my student probably had to interact this past week with individuals who have a culture unlike his own, that he had to apply his skills and the knowledge that I have only just begun to impart to him to another family's pain, it impresses upon me the gravity of what I do.

I ask people to be like Jesus.

In a very academic manner, using terms that someone more intellectual than I thought up, making every attempt to exclude emotions and illogical religion-based arguments, I try to convince them to approach everyone with compassion and treat criminals and victims of crime alike with the integrity of a "professional" who works in the American Criminal Justice system.

Perhaps I have gone about this too lightly. Perhaps I ought to have armed myself with the courage Paul told Timothy to have (2 Timothy 1:7), and the compassion Christ had when he saw the masses (Matthew 9:35-38). Of course we are required to cover the course materials, but the truth is, at the conclusion of the course, if I have not taught while fully armed by God, if I have not taught while filled with His Spirit, then I have done nothing of any value.

... Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.

Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.

In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.

With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.

Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel... -Ephesians 6:10-19

Drowning in Laundry and a Christmas Wish

2007-12-14T09:19:00.001-06:00

We have certainly been a bit obsessed in my household lately. To the point of being unscriptural. Yesterday morning we all woke up to a terrifying mountain of laundry and the stark realization that NONE of us had ny clean clothes. So we all had to wear sheets.

Just kidding. Really, though, the next time I have a crisis, can some kind soul PLEASE ask, "Gina, have you done a load lately?" I'd truly appreciate it.

The best news for today is that SPM is on her way here (with some grandparents in tow), to spend the night. Aahhhhh. I am already beginning to relax. I can't wait to see her sweet self and feel her sweet arms around me. Ohhh I can't wait!!!! My Christmas wish for the world would be that everyone everywhere coud have their own SPM!

Happy Birthday!

2007-11-21T14:54:00.002-06:00

Happy Birthday to my Sweet Precious Mother! Here's her picture so everyone can see how beautiful she is!! (Thank you, Anita, for capturing her the way my heart sees her!)

One Stage Mama Flying High

2007-11-13T09:04:00.002-06:00

Nineteen years ago I sat in a dimly lit theatre with Jason while he held my hand. It was our first, ninth grade attempt at romance. It didn't fly back then.

This past Saturday, we sat together again in a dimly lit theatre holding hands. My heart was a-flutter with excitement. I leaned close and asked him, "of all the times we have been in a theatre together, did you ever dream it would be for this?" "I dreamed it," he said, "but I can't believe it."

Nineteen years ago, I never NEVER imagined this day would come. We sat together in a professional theatre - the Alabama Shakespeare Festival - and saw all of our dreams come true. As our 7-year old son flew up to the highest heights of the theatre with Peter, Wendy and John, our hearts soared. Jason and I were overcome with joy. I have never been so proud.

Jason and I have always loved the theatre. We were in plays together in high school. We were in plays together in college. Together, we built and painted sets, sewed costumes, learned lines, and bonded over late night ticket-sorting. We got married in a theatre. We both majored in theatre (and an assortment of other things we love). Our official big honeymoon trip was to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario. We gave our three sons Shakespearean names - not just because we adore Shakespeare, but because of what he represents to the world of theatre.

Crispin's name can be found in the Shakespearean play, Henry V, in an impassioned speech about St. Crispin's Day. Macbeth, or the Play That Shall Not Be Named, is where you will find Duncan's name - he was named for a good king in the show. Our baby Liam? Well, not only does he carry the given name of his paternal grandfather, but Liam is short for William - as in William Shakespeare.

All of our boys have grown up in theatres. They have been babysat by actresses, helped paint sets, watched their daddy use power tools to bring imaginary worlds to life, explored backstages for mummies and ghosts, napped in theatres, and have all attended Broadway productions (Liam was in utero, if that counts). Crispin's first Broadway show was The Lion King, shortly before he turned 3. After the show was over, we set him on the stage and told him to do "The Running Dance." We laughed at our lighthearted attempt at putting him "on Broadway."

So, Saturday night, as the lights came up and we saw him nudged across the stage by Nana the dog at ASF, while he wore blue footie pajamas, it was a dream come true. We reveled in the exclaims of "aww" from the audience when he spoke, danced, and sang. We could not take our eyes off of him. It was pure parental delight right there in the front row. We are so proud of our little sweetheart for carrying on our love of theatre. If this is the last show he ever does, then I have enough good memories to last me a lifetime. But I suspect we have many more to come.

In the midst of all my Stage Mama joy, the performance of our sons in real life is far more important to us than what they do onstage. We care more about them serving our King and making wise and Godly decisions than we do about what subject they major in, what job they have, or what hobbies they have. That's why our prayers for and with them have always included our request that no matter where they go and who they encounter, they will show other people God's love, and demonstrate why it is wonderful to live the life of a Christian. And that, in my Stage Mama mind, is the most important role of all.

To read the review in the Montgomery Advertiser, click here!

Not Crazy, Rather, Richly Blessed

2007-11-02T19:39:00.002-05:00

What a fortuitous coupon session we had! I think everyone got coupons - I think I could host another giveaway and still have some left over. The morning (for me) turned out to have more to do with friends than with coupons.

Several came and went at times convenient for them, just like I was hoping everyone would do. Shea Lea, that smart girl, came with coupons, helped sort, gathered what she would use, and dispensed important information...for example, did you know that you can use a store coupon and a manufacturer's coupon on the SAME item? And goody for you if you find that item BOGO. That's her secret to making money when she shops. That, and the fact that she does find very good internet coupons that she uses. Check out her site. She has some great tips and finds bargains that are amazing. Snaps for Shea!!!

Ok, so here's the emergency room part of the story. Jason calls, and tells me in an insanely calm voice that Joey is driving him to the Emergency room because while he was using the table saw, a piece of wood shot off and went into his arm. Mmm. Nice.

I instantly lost the ability to make any rational decision whatsoever. I immediately called SPM, but had to leave a message on her cell. Beyond that, I cannot remember the actual sequence of events. I will say that the Voice of Reason was there in the form of Susan, who helped a LOT by calmly getting me to list the rest of the day's events, and then offering to take care of Duncan, who attends school with her son. Then (was it Jenn?) someone suggested we pray - why yes, that was brilliant and calming, and Anita and Betsy offered to help with Crispin or Liam, and Anita almost got to experience the joys of 3pm pick-up at Garrett, but I was able to get him after all.

I can't stand to think that I have left someone out...if I have, it is not intentional - but girls, THANK YOU for showing up for an impromptu gathering, and THANK YOU for being so loving, calm, and rational. Can I just go out on a limb here and say that I think you followed the proptings of the Holy Spirit in all your actions on Wednesday? You demonstrated what it means to be gracious.

In the midst of the drama, poor Jason has not received all the pity and love from me he should have. As SPM pointed out, the wood could have hit him in the head, so we really are blessed that the injury was not worse. And the wood did not go into his arm at all, it just shot out from the saw, hit his forarm, and scraped down the side of his arm. So far, 2 different doctors have seen the arm damage, and both immediately said, "yes, it is broken." Then they did x-rays and no, the arm is not broken - just badly bruised. I think bruised is a blessing - I cannot imagine our lives with a cast right now. Honestly though, Jason and I both think that the bone may be chipped, or that they are not looking at the bone the right way, because he is still in a LOT of pain.

So. There you go. I was not crazy for inviting everyone over at the last minute. God was just looking out for us. He knew we would need some trustworthy, responsible adults present to help us remain calm and get through the day. When you don't live near family...you better make make sure you live near your Christian family. They will come through for you.

Those last 2 sentences there really make me want to write another post about how tempting it is to isolate ourselves from other Christians, and how easy it would have been for me to say "my house is not perfect, the dishes aren't done, my carpet is a travesty, blah, blah, blah...so I can't have these people over today...but those people are my Christian sisters. And God has put them there and me here for a reason. It's just another reminder to me that I am richly blessed.

My Own Personal Fairy Tale

2007-10-21T18:04:00.002-05:00

A rare, but beautiful blue moon hung in the night sky. Mystery and promise, an odd combination hung in the air. For some unknown reason, my hair looked un-Ginaish, cute, perky and stylish. "You look younger!" our sweet babysitter pointed out. My clothes weren't wrinked. My eyeliner hadn't yet crawled down my cheeks. My shoes matched. Each other.

Could it be? Were Jason and I really about to go out on a...DATE???? A mysterious figure shrouded in black dashed past me with jingling keys. Oh, it was Jason, reminding me that I needed to hurry as I drove myself to meet him at the Dinner Theatre. We had to drive separately to our date, seeing as how our little star can't drive himself yet to play practice.

I left, and actually beat him there. I never beat anyone anywhere - it was a clear sign of what was Yet To Come. I casually reclined and bounced my leg in the rose-colored lobby while I waited for my Date to arrive. I hid my eyes behind my straight bangs, and a tilt of my head, carefully eyeing each couple that came through the door of the theatre.

A beautiful young pregnant woman escorted by a tall and handsome man with curly hair passed over the threshhold. I scrutinzed them. Her eyes were familiar, and she had a smile like Cinderella at the ball. The realization of what was happening washed over me like a cold shower. I knew this Day Would Come.

Jason arrived. "It's her," I exclaimed, "I think it's really her!" He turned to see the "her" I was so excited about. I have known for long over a year now that our paths would cross - they were bound to. We move in similar circles, shop at the same stores, both get prescriptions filled and we have wee ones and like art. It was fate.

The mysterious wires of the World Wide Web has taken me to lands I thought I'd never go to, reunited me with lost friends I never thought I'd see, and has gifted me with new friends I never knew I'd have. Ashley is one of them. I began reading her blog back before I knew what blogs were, back before she got all popular and had to go private, I think even back before I started mine. She is the One, the Only SupaBloggaSupremeMama.

Meeting her was the highlight of my night, proof that dreams really do come true. Once every 3 months my hair looks good. I look cute. My husband takes me on a date. And little 'ol frumpy BusyMommy me gets to meet a real live funny girl of the web, a true charmer of a Southern Belle, who was just precious and darling to meet in person.

Oh, I just sailed on the excitement. Once chance meeting, one night when two passing ships met, and the first words that escaped my mouth after introducing myself? "Have you been to COSTCO yet?!?" The clock struck 12, and the spell was broken. The real Gina gets out every time.

And we all live on, striving for happily ever after.

Letting His Spirit Bloom

2007-10-16T10:27:00.003-05:00

"The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli. In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions." I Samuel 3:1

I grew up in a congregation where the word of the Lord was rare. There were not many visions. We had sermons and lessons preached to us, and faithful, God-fearing men and women that loved God the father and Christ His Son, but few (if any) that acknowledged the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. "Peter replied, 'repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.'" Acts 2:38.

The reason for the lack of recognition of the Holy Spirit was probably fear, confusion, and misunderstanding, but whatever the reason, it resulted in a family of believers that put too much faith in the actions of men, and not enough faith into the love and grace of our King. As a congregation, we skimped on grace, forgiveness, and openness to outsiders. We were concerned with learning the facts - just the facts - and refrained from any expression of emotion or joy that is promised to us by God. "...in spite of severe suffering, you welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit..."I Thessalonians 1:6.

At any rate, our faith was weak, and the Spirit and the fruits of the Spirit (Galations 5:22-23)were squelched. "He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And He was amazed at their lack of faith." Mark 6:5-6

It came about after 8 years of this that my parents decided to uproot us and relocate to north Alabama. I was in 8th grade, a melancholy but ambitious girl with a passion for writing and a deep love for my friends. I did not want to go. It was clear to every one who knew me that I did not want to go. With such distracted parents, and little brothers that I had very little patience for at the time, my friends were the family I created for myself here on earth. I was closer to them in spirit than anyone else. One family from church saw my despair and offered to let me live with them for the last 8 weeks of the school year.

But I didn't stay. All too soon it was time to move. My sweet friends comforted me in the tender way that childhood girlfriends do, with hugs, gifts, and promises to stay in touch. They upheld their end of the bargain, and to this day, I still treasure those girls.

Our church family, wanting to send us off right, gave our family a going-away dinner, complete with prayers and the ever-wonderful money tree. I believe that even in congregations where the faith is weak, and the Spirit is overlooked, the Spirit cannot ultimately be squelched. The seed is planted, and will remain in the Christian until given the chance to bloom.

Our leaving was just the chance the Spirit needed to begin its bloom within my heart. Three of my very closest girlfriends from the youth group wanted to give me one last parting gift. They shared my love for music and singing, and together, they (along with their mother), serenaded us at the church dinner with my favorite hymns. I will never ever forget their eyes shining as they sang "Blest Be the Tie that Binds." To this day, I have not sung that song without crying.

Why was this a chance for the Holy Spirit to grow within me? These women took this action under the guidance of the Spirit - they overcame a spirit of timidity, and acted with power and love, to create a lasting loving memory in my mind that is filled with His goodness and love. I recall that there was some question as to whether women could be permitted to do such a thing. Our congregation strictly adhered to Paul's teaching in I Timothy 2:11-12 that "a woman should learn in quietness and full submission." Paul says in verse 12, "I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man, she must be silent."

This hastily formed choir violated that teaching up and down by singing to us. First, it was a choir - violating the "congregational only" singing rule that we abided by. Second, it was a choir of women - violating the "usurping a man's authority" rule that we also lived by. They were afraid before they began, but by God's grace, they sang anyway.

To their credit, the elders did not stop them. Today, I find so many aspects of that story astonishing, because I do not believe God intended His word to be interpreted the way our congregation interpreted it, but even though it was, the incredible part to me, is that He does not allow His Spirit to be squelched. No matter what guidelines or bridles man puts on the Word of God, His Spirit is so powerful and so loving, that it is willing to fly in the face of man's restrictions and ignorance and let His love flow freely. "Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." I Timothy 1:13-14

There is a time for everything. There is a time when the word of the Lord will be rare, a time when man's faith will be weak, but the Spirit will find the cracks in the foundations built by men and will overcome the walls. What will you do when the Spirit comes flowing towards you?

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. Do not put out the Spirit's fire; do not treat prophecies with contempt. Test everything. Hold on to the good. Avoid every kind of evil. May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it." I Thessalonians 5:16-24.

My Man

2007-10-08T18:49:00.003-05:00

Because I need a distraction, and because I can't stand to look at that last depressing post anymore, I believe it is finally time to fulfill the tag from Betsy...

1. Who is my man? Besides Jesus, it's Jason.

2.How long have we been together? We have known each other and been best friends for 19 years. On December 31st, we will celebrate 13 years of marriage!

3. How long did we date? Honestly, I can't remember. I know this sounds bad, but we dated for 1.5 days in 9th grade, then we started dating in April of our senior year, then we broke up the following February for one HORRIBLE month, then we got back together in March, got engaged the following November, and then married one year and one month later. Whew! I still don't know the answer to the question. Somebody else do the math and let me know.

4. How old is he? 33

5.Who eats more? We are snackers, not eaters.

6. Who said "I love you" first? Me

7. Who is taller? Jason

8. Who sings better? Jason

9. Who is smarter? Jason

10.Who has more of a temper? Generally I am a lot more irritable, but he can go into Scary Jason mode if he is really and truly angry

11.Who does laundry? Both of us

12.Who takes out the garbage? Jason

13. Who sleeps on the right side? I just sleep under the label on my headboard that says "Gina" We don't live by left vs. right. It's too confusing.

14. Who pays the bills? I pay some and he pays what I don't. It all comes out of the same account, so as long as somebody pays it, it doesn't really matter.

15. Who has sharper computer skills? We are both decent at it in different areas. Awww - he completes me!

16. Who mows the lawn? Jason

17. Who cooks? I do, mostly - but he will if I need him to. He did for years, until I decided I wanted to do it - that coincided with Crispin's appearance into our family.

18. Who drives when we are together? Usually him, unless I am being overwhelmingly controlling that day.

19. Who pays when we are out? Whichever one of us has money and/or isn't holding the baby.

20. Who is more stubborn? me

21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? I think I am the first to apologize, but wrong? We don't fight over something unless we each KNOW we are right. This is a silly question.

22.Which set of parents do we see the most? His.

23. Who asked out who? We hung out together - there was no "asking" to be done.

24. Who kissed who first? Well, he put his arm around me at a party, and that's how I knew he liked me. That was such a fun night!! The actual kissing part was a few weeks later, and another story altogether.

25. Who is more sensitive? In the good sense, he is more sensitive about animals and little kids. I am more sensitive about family, babies and friends. Otherwise, I am more sensitive in the negative way - I get my feelings hurt entirely too easily.

26. Who has more friends? We each have lots of friends, but unfortunately, they are 2 different groups of people. The good part is that I like his friends and he likes mine.

27. Who has more siblings? Jason - 3, me - 2, plus a soon-to-be step. He doesn't count yet, though.

28. Who wears the pants? He wears smarty pants and I wear hot pants. Kidding. Seriously, he has final say on everything - I will do whatever he tells me to, even if I disagree. Case in point: I moved to Montgomery, didn't I?

Next...I tag Cortnie because I haven't heard from her in forever, and I miss her! Has Kristin been tagged? If not, then I tag her, too!

A Tiny Voice Saying "Hello?"

2007-09-27T12:48:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, as I took 30 seconds to relax for the day, I heard a tiny voice saying "hello?" I thought nothing of it, because I was watching a call-in news show, in which viewers called in to ask the host of the day various questions which revealed their significant degrees of stupidity. But I digress.

I did think the little voice was odd, but wasn't worried, as Jason was walking into the room, where Liam was playing behind the sofa. "What is Liam doing?" I asked him. "Playing," he replied. "Well, do you hear a tiny voice saying hello?" I inquired. He laughed. "A tiny voice saying hello," he stated back to me. "Yes," I asked, "where is the phone?"

He gazed slowly and calmly around the room, located the cordless phone off the floor, and picked it up. "Hello?" he asked uncertainly. I heard the suddenly booming reply from across the room, "HELLO! THIS IS 911!! DO YOU HAVE AN EMERGENCY?!!!!!???!!!" Jason's gasp was in stereo with mine. "NO!" he confirmed. "I am SO SORRY!! My son must have been playing with the phone!!" And with a beep, he disconnected the concerned 911 operator.

Terrified of having just notified authorities, I anxiously watched the window and listened for the sure-to-arrive squad cars. Thankfully, none came. Jason and I were so relieved that none of the usual squalling and mayhem that is our afternoon routine was taking place. For Once. Around here, we are grateful for even the little blessings. That stinker.

Cuteness in the Car

2007-08-28T08:21:00.002-05:00

My children are adorable. They say and do hysterical things all day long. I think I have said this before, but I think God made little boys specifically to keep people laughing. Because even when they are being bad, it's funny.

Like this fit Duncan throws every single day. He'll get mad, fall on the floor, and scream, "I can't waaaallk!!!" Then he rolls through the house screaming. As infuriating as it is, isn't that funny? Too bad it's not funny at 6:45p.m. Duncan is one funny kid. He wants a surfboard for his birthday. You know, because we're such athletic people.

A few days ago we were riding down the road listening to Toby Keith. He was singing his song, "Mockingbird." "Who is that girl singing with him, mommy?" Crispin asked. "His daughter," I answered. "She's REALLY good," he said with admiration in his voice. A pause, then, "how old is she?" "Oh, probably about 20," I told him.

"Oh," he said, in this disappointed voice.

"Why, were you looking for a girlfriend?" I asked.

"No, a playdate," he says seriously.

My goodness. Was he wanting to get together and sing with her? Probably.

Time for me to run - Liam is doing the dishes, and I've got to make sure he knows where the detergent is. Have a great day out there!

Unraveled by an Ant (and its billion friends)

2007-08-21T19:59:00.003-05:00

You saw it coming, right? The slow pressure build-up, the constant running, the severe exhaustion, tell-tale physical ailments, all the signs of a girl about to crack? Well, it happened. Gina came UNGLUED. Yes, that was in all caps. I was unbelievably, overwhelmingly unglued.

The Devil knows what buttons of mine to push: my fear of insanity and my horror of bugs. Saturday night, they all collided into each other and formed one spectacular explosion right here in our living room. I want (need) this to be funny, so please picture this...

Gina had 3 hours of sleep the night before SPM and father-in-law (FIL) arrived. That morning, I woke up at 5, made a healthy breakfast for my boys, reviewed specific house cleaning instruction cards with Poor, Sweet, Long-Suffering Husband (PSLSH), zipped over to the office, finished writing a test, made 50 copies (front, back, stapled), ran home, took a shower, dressed professionally, hopped back in the car, ran back to school, taught a class (made a point to be witty, even though still weak from post-fever aftershocks), drove home with a stack of exams to grade, greeted SPM & FIL, and then laid on the sofa while I tried to make energized conversation. Then SPM, FIL, and middle son left for the dinner theatre (PSLSH and oldest son had left for a birthday party when I got home).

So, with a weak, tired body that had not stopped or eaten all day, I proceeded to feed and then prevent walking infant from injuring himself until bedtime. Then I put him in bed. Then I worked on the Bible class lesson I was scheduled to teach the 3's on Sunday morning. Finished, finally, I decided to pre-set Sunday morning's diaper bags so that I could sleep in an extra 5 minutes in the morning. I went out to the carport to get the diaper bag out of the car. I happened to glance down at the dimly-lit ground...at this point, you should picture everything happening in s-l-o-w -- m-o-t-i-o-n.

"What IS that on the ground? Why is the ground moving? What are all those tiny dots? Zillions...of ants? Tiny ants...medium sized ants..." and as my eyes followed the many trails of various-sized ants surrounding my back door, I saw the massive dark swarm of red flying ants as they made their nasty way into my house.

You need to know several things at this juncture. #1 - Several nights before, I had read the verse, "I struck all the work of your hands with blight, mildew and hail, yet you did not turn to me," declares the Lord." (Haggai 2:17) #2 - I cannot bear to have vermin in the house, as you can read here. And #3, I must remind you, the 3 hours of sleep!!

Cut back to Gina on the porch. I dash into the house, slamming the door behind me, eyes darting frantically, my fingers moving up to cover my lips from screaming. Every hair on my head is standing at attention, and I'm trembling, itching everywhere, trying desperately to figure out how to stop the zillions of swarming ants from flying into my family's house, and up everyone's noses while we sleep. Because I know that's what they'll do.

"Seal the house. You've got to seal the house. Where are they coming from? They are pouring in through the doorframe. Seal the door. Find the tape. What is the widest tape you have in the house? Masking tape. Packing tape. Get it. NOW."

Frenzied, a tiny voice in my head keeps insisting, "you'll ruin the paint around the doorframe! You'll peel up all the paint with that tape!"

"I don't care," I tell it, "we can repaint. We can REPAINT!!! Painting the doorframe is nothing! Shoot, we can replace the door and the doorframe if we have to! For that matter, we can replace the whole WALL if we have to, I'm sure Jason can figure out how to build a fireplace into a wall!!!"

I frantically seal the opening the ants are rushing in through with the tape, and the sinister thoughts begin sliding into my mind..."you know you're the only one who can see those ants, don't you? Nut. The others will get home - your FIL will come in and see you with tape all over the door, acting hysterical, and he will INSIST that they lock you up. You're just like Zelda Fitzgerald. She went nuts, too. And you know what? God wants you to go through this. Remember what you read from His word? "I struck your home with swarms of flies, and yet you did not return to me. Swarms of flies. Ants. Pestilence."

At this point, in the midst of standing on a chair with a roll of tape, and weeping, I somehow located the phone and managed to dial the number of my trusty Casts-Out-Demons Prayer Warrior Friend (CODPWF). "Hel-lo, my friend," she greets me. I'm weeping, can't talk, frankly, I don't even know what I say to her. I think it went like this: "I've been sick. I haven't run a fever in over 24 hours, but I'm so so so tired. And there are ants. And things that fly. And they are swarming into the house." Then I sob. Huge, freaky, weepy sobs.

I love her. She doesn't freak on me. Remaining calm, more loving than a 911 operator, she gets me to give the location of all other people that should be here to help. "What do you need me to do?" I know she is wondering if she needs to head towards this side of town. "I don't know," I sob, explaining that SPM will arrive momentarily, and that I won't be alone much longer. Then I reveal the real reason I am sobbing hysterically: "What if they can't see them! What if I am the only one who can see these things! What if I am crazy!?!?!! And then, you know it says in the Old Testament, that God afflicted them so that they would turn to Him, I don't know what book," I babble and weep. "Somewhere in Habakuk, or, or Ezekiel."

She stops me dead in my tracks with a stern and strong voice. "GINA! Have you been disobedient to the Lord?" "I don't kn-know," I sniff out in gasps. "I've been trying to think of what...I...could...or...why..."

"I hate him!" She bursts out. "It's Satan! This is how he works! Here, let's pray." She prays for me immediately, for me to have peace, to know that God is in control of the situation, that I am not crazy, that I could recognize the enemy tormenting me, that SPM and FIL will know what to do.

When she stopped, I was calm. "I need to call them," I informed her. Had to let them know not to come in through that entrance. We get off the phone. I know SPM's phone has been turned off during the show, so I called FIL's number. Poor FIL. He doesn't realize what he's in for. I begin to tell him, in my weepy, gaspy, wobbly voice that they can't use the back door. "Here," he says, "let me give you to Diane." I try again to explain. She can't hear my little tiny hysterical voice. "What? What?" she calls. "ANTS!" I scream into the phone "There are ZILLIONS OF ANTS!!! And they are SWARMING into the HOUSE!!" "We're ON OUR WAY!" she replies.

Can I just say "Rinse and repeat" at this point? Jason calls the second I get off the phone, and we go through the whole thing again. He knows it is a panic attack, and that I will have to finish it out before I can begin to calm down. "They are there," he insists over and over. "They will see the ants. You are not crazy. It will be ok. It will be ok."

They arrive, bring in my boys, put them to bed...they confirm...yes, the ants exist, which gets me crying AGAIN because I am so relieved to know that they too, can see zillions of ants. I can hear SPM talking to Jason on the phone, "yes, they are everywhere, I've never seen so many in my life. Don't use that door." She sits close to me, tells me to take something so I can sleep and then to get into bed, which I eventually did. She hugs me. I finally feel like I can breathe. Once in bed, Jason holds me, and I am still trembling until I fall asleep. I slept 9 hours straight.

I woke up with a new calm, knowing that I must keep the many activities in check, or the panic attacks I had 3 whole years ago will come back. I woke with no embarrassment from the previous day's events, thankfully (that came later, like yesterday). I woke, knowing that I can live through an ant swarm, should it ever happen again. I also knew that I'd have to blog about this. That you will either find this funny and chuckle, or you will shake your head in pity, or that you will relate to something I've experienced here, and not feel alone.

I've gone back and re-read the scriptures that Satan twisted up in my overly-tired mind. Do you know what else that book says, all scattered throughout chapter 2?

"Be strong, all you people of the land...For I am with you...Do not fear...I will fill this house with glory...And in this place I will grant peace...From this day on, I will bless you."

And that's what I'm sealing into my heart from this latest event. In this place, He will grant peace. From this day on, He will (continue) to bless us.

And I promise, my next post will be funny. Hang in there!

A Safety Net

2007-08-16T22:08:00.002-05:00

I know it's not supposed to be this way. People are supposed to live in communities that support each other. Being so far away from my "comfortable" friends, and any relatives, we have no back-up plan.

You know about "comfortable" friends, right? The ones you can call in the middle of the night for emergencies, the ones that you can ask at the last minute if they want to go have lunch with you and your herd of children, the ones that feel comfortable dropping by and think nothing of it if your house happens to be a wreck. The ones you don't MIND seeing your house a wreck.

Jason has the starring role in the current play at school. So now that the show has finally opened, he's only home 3 nights a week, and one of those days is a Wednesday, which really doesn't count. I have had a constant fever of 100-101 for the last 2 and a half days. I knew I needed to be well enough by tonight to take care of my kids for 3 hours once Jason left.

I tried, I really did. But having a high (for me) fever, not being able to walk and carry a baby at the same time, and getting worn out after reading two pages of a bedtime story - well, it was just too much for me. The baby kept crying, the 4 year sprung a rash that required an immediate bath, and I just couldn't see well through my many tears. I kept praying out loud, begging God to help me get them into bed. I think I worried my boys. For once, they didn't beg me to sing to them, and they gave me huge hugs as they got into bed.

The worst part of it lasted about 45 minutes. Why couldn't I hold it together for 45 minutes? When you have a "scene" in front of your kids, it is locked into their permanent memory. I know, because my permanent memory is packed full of "scenes." I've got to be competent in the morning to make up for tonight's debacle.

And I've got to work on building our community. I know I have written often about building more friendships, but maybe what I need is to build a safety net. The difficulty I have is in asking for and accepting help. How do you create the type of relationships where you can call someone and say, "can you please put my 3 kids to bed, because I just can't do it tonight." Maybe that's the kind of thing that you're just supposed to muddle through on your own -that there's something wrong with me for not being able to handle it. Maybe it will make me more compassionate should someone ever call me and ask for help.

The obvious answer is to start with church family, but just as fast as I can think of someone, I think of a valid reason why I don't need to call them...they have their own kids to put to bed, or they may not want to risk coming into a house with possible contagious germs, or that they live so far away...like 4 hours away. I do believe that God has a solution for situations like this. I just don't know what it is.

The Plate Spinner

2007-08-05T23:03:00.002-05:00

This weekend I did the rudest thing ever. I walked out on a story Jason was telling me while he was mid-sentence. I didn't even realize I'd done it until I asked him for the 4th time what was wrong. He told me very nicely. I felt terrible. We were actually on a date when I did this. We rarely go on dates anymore. We may not ever again, after this episode.

I really did not mean to cut off his story. I just remember thinking, "he can keep telling me this while we walk." Why did I do it? The babysitter was on the clock. Every minute is money spent, and I was ready to move on to the next event. But why would I treat someone I love with such disregard? I would not have done this 10 years ago. I would definitely not have done this 15 years ago. Back then, we were very best friends. I hung on his every word. We held hands. We made eye contact. Back then, we did not have 3 kids, 2 jobs, and 1 house that needs lots of attention.

On any given day here at home, I feel like I am a tiny wheel caught in this big machine, trying to keep up with all the other parts. I walk fast. I do two or three things at a time, like clean the kitchen while I make dinner and do laundry. Do you know how many times you have to wash your hands if you do laundry while you are making dinner?

For every minute that I am involved in completing a task, I am constantly thinking ahead to the next minute, trying to determine what must be done next. I don't watch television. I read books 2-3 pages at a time, not whole chapters at a time. My body is constantly in motion. Even now as I type, my toes are wiggling, reminding me that I really need to be studying, or making tomorrow's breakfast, or drinking water to prevent dehydration. I am afraid that if I stop for a second, slow down and relax for even a minute, that the machine I am caught in will run me over and crush me.

I don't enjoy watching plate spinners perform. I feel like a plate spinner 24 hours a day. I was thinking about why my life is so different here - why my relationships with people in Montgomery are so shockingly different to me than any other friendships I have ever had. It hit me yesterday that it is probably because I am so different here. I have more to do than I have ever had to do before.

Once this semester begins, I will be managing our home and children on Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, half of Fridays, and all day Saturdays. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Friday mornings I will compact the duties of a full-time job into 2.5 days per week, while Jason does his share taking care of the kids and house. Then several evenings every week he will be taking care of the children (the college-aged children he teaches) at the theatre. I'll be home those evenings, not able to leave unless I get a babysitter - because putting your kids to bed at 7:30 every night pretty much eliminates evening window shopping, park visits, or neighborhood walks. This is how we have lived for the past 3 years. I'm tired.

When will he and I have time to be best friends again? When will he want to tell me long stories and I will feel like I can just sit back, relax and enjoy listening to them? When will we hold hands and make eye contact? I am trying so hard to get rid of some of the spinning plates. The Ethics exam (MPRE) is one of those plates, and I will take it on Friday. Please pray that I can get this one behind me, and eliminate some of the pressure. Only God can lift the burden that is my life. A girl can spin plates for only so long.

(Blogging is now on hold. No more until after Friday.) My parting verse for you and for me?

Colossians 3:1-3
Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.

Me and Her

2007-06-21T23:55:00.002-05:00

Some seasons are more difficult than others. I have a case of Adult Attachment Disorder, and I have noticed a waxing and waning of it during the year. I don't know exactly how I became the recipient of this, or when I "caught it," but I realized I had a real problem when we moved from Florence to Montgomery, in August of 2004, and I temporarily ceased functioning.

I have an unnatural affection for and attachment to my Sweet Precious Mother (in-law). I hate to describe it that way, because I treasure my relationship with her, and know it is a blessing impossible to assign a value to, but the truth is, it is a huge struggle for me. I love love LOVE her (ok, totally in the mother/daughter sense)!

She is my favorite person. She ranks on equal footing with my husband, my children, and all my best girlfriends. That is precisely the difficulty. I struggle to keep her in the "right" place in my heart - after my love for my King and Father.

During the school year, when I am so busy just doing the day-to-day stuff, I am ok. Ok, as in, it's manageable that she is 3.5 hours away. But during the holidays and summers, I do everything I can to be in the same town as her. No, to be in the same house as her - but truthfully, even that is not enough. I want to be in the same room as her, sitting right there beside her, with my hand in hers, or resting in her lap, with her playing with my hair, or her hand on my arm - knowing that she is right there with me, spending her time with me, and not going anywhere away from me. Sometimes I feel like I need her beside me so that I can breathe. And while I am perfectly happy with her at my side 24/7, I can see that it is not really normal at all.

I just got home from the most wonderful trip to Disney World. She came with us, and was (as usual) a huge help and tons of fun. Now I sit here writing this, trying to postpone getting into bed, because she will be leaving in the morning. Somehow my sad little disorder makes me think that if I don't go to bed, she won't leave. I know that she will go, and I will cry and spend part of tomorrow worrying about her on the road and missing her, and then I will be ok by dinnertime - but that does not make this moment right now any easier.

Every time we leave each other, I set a date to see her again, and put it on my calendar. I can manage to go about 2-3 weeks before I absolutely must see her again. It does come at a cost to me: the gas I spend going back and forth to spend time with her, the relationships I neglect because I pour everything into my relationship with her, the time I spend thinking about her - where she is, what she is doing, what does she think of me, of this, of my condition.

The truth is, I don't want my relationship with her to change to a normal one. I just wish I was a little better at keeping her in perspective in my heart. I wish I didn't get annoyed at having to say she is my Mother-in-Law and not my Mother. I wish I were not quite so insecure about how she feels about me. I wish I would not feel as though I have to be in her arms just to be able to breathe. I wish I would not worry that I annoy and pester her with all the touching.

I just don't want her to go away.

This is my latest picture of me with her. I don't have nearly enough of these! We were laughing our heads off here, and it is one of my (many) favorite memories from this past week. Don't you fret, now - I will have more to say about the rest of the trip later - but for now, I just needed to get some thoughts out so that I'd be able to sleep. I think am beginning to feel better already. Goodnight!

Why I Love Paula Deen

2007-05-31T03:57:00.004-05:00

I just finished readin' Miss Paula Deen's memoir, It Ain't All About the Cookin'. Despite the fact that she has the tendency to talk like a sailor, and despite the fact that she writes exactly the way she talks, I thoroughly enjoyed this book.

I think Paula Deen is a delight. She is a real woman - not the least bit pretentious. She tells it like it is, and is completely honest about her own role in the stories she tells. If she was wrong, she says she's wrong. When she was right about something that everyone else told her would fail, she is just grateful that everything worked out ok - she has no desire to say, "I told you so."

I also love how passionate she is. She lives hard, loves hard, and holds back no affection or frustration. She loves her niece, step-daughter and her daughter-in-law like they are her own, and she even calls them her daughters. She holds those girls in her arms, and not just if they are sad or in the middle of a crisis. That almost puts her on saint-level in my book. Paula Deen takes life and squeezes out every drop of joy and pain that she can get - and then some.

She is a true Southerner. She believes that food memories are lasting ones. She has risked everything for her family. She expects in return that her family would risk everything for her. She loves real butter, and does not apologize for using lots of it. She calls people Miss Dena, or Mr. Buddy - a dying southern tradition. She loves God, and isn't ashamed to admit it.

I'd love to meet Miss Paula. She is beautiful, charming, and has spunk. There's a little cha cha in her that not many women exude so easily. She gets excited about the simple things that make life sparkle: good food, good times, and good love. I like that. I'd like to think I'm that way, too - it makes life more fun.

If you love her cooking show, or if you love Southern women or Southern food, you will enjoy this book. It is a quick read, and packed with drama - lovin', livin', eatin', laughin', cryin' and dyin' - Paula Deen style.

Forgiveness

2007-05-18T10:19:00.002-05:00

I went to college with Mary and Matt. To my knowledge, I never had a conversation with either her or her late husband. The whole situation is sad. Sad that some beautiful little girls lost their father, will have limited contact with their mother, will be raised under the shadow of "What Your Mother Did."

One particular comment made by Matt's father struck me, and has not left me for weeks now. He said that Christians had a duty to forgive, but that Mary had not asked for forgiveness. I do not presume to know exactly what this man meant when he said that, but it leads me to recall various sermons I have heard in the past that claimed God does not require us to extend forgiveness to those who have not asked for it. It is the concept that an individual must have a penitent heart before we have to forgive them.

I must lay some groundwork before I continue. 1 - I believe that God wrote His Word so that the everyday person could read it and decipher it. No advanced degrees are necessary to understand His meaning. 2 - The concept of forgiveness is simple: you release your hold over that person's sin. That means you don't bring it up again - you just let it go, and trust that God will even it all out in the end. 3 - Actually practicing forgiveness is so painful and difficult, that we have to constantly work at it. Hence the scripture, "forgive 70 times 7." You may forgive and "let it go" on Monday, but Tuesday morning you may have to remind yourself, "I've released that to God."

Back to what I really wanted to say. In Luke 23:34, Jesus says, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." As an English teacher, it looks like Jesus makes this statement in reference to the men performing the crucifixion. I have heard in sermons the statement was made in reference to those shouting insults at Him. REGARDLESS of who Jesus was referring to, the guilty party(ies) did NOT come to Jesus with a penitent heart, asking for his forgiveness. Jesus, our example, just voluntarily requests that God forgive these people.

We are supposed to follow the example of Jesus. As hard as it is to forgive, we are supposed to try. Even if there is no penitent heart. Why? Because forgiveness is an action that your own heart and mind must perform, and it is not contignent upon the other person's behavior.
The process does not end with the act of forgiveness. How do you treat the other person afterwards? That, (totally in my opinion), in part depends on the other person's actions. Christians are called to a higher standard of behavior.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another." Colossians 3:12-13

This is SO so hard to do. But God expects us to be loving and compassionate. Translated most simply: be kind. Be kind. Be kind. When we look into the eyes of a fellow Christian who is not penitent, who is arrogant, who does not ask for forgiveness, who does not even think he has not sinned, we must be kind. But we are not commanded to become that person's best friend. To draw that person close to our heart, to reveal our innermost thoughts. But we must be kind.

I believe that God also calls us to protect our hearts. When Jesus sent out the apostles, he warned them, "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes, and as innocent as doves." Matthew 10:16 Jesus was telling the apostles to protect their hearts against the world, but at the same time, to be kind.

This is not a post about my college classmate Mary and her father-in-law. This is not a post about any current situation any of my precious friends are experiencing. These are just my thoughts on forgiveness, that I have been mulling over for some time now, and trying so hard to apply to the various situations I encounter daily. Sometimes I succeed at this. Sometimes I don't. But I try - every day I try.

That said, if you want to do some more reading on some of these issues, here are some links. This link is a great article that shows a huge step in the right direction on the subject of honesty among women. (Thank you, Karen for that article.)

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you." Philippians 4:8-11

Grace and peace to you today.

You Know Who You Are

2007-04-11T20:50:00.002-05:00

Hello, Large Hairy man at Disney World. May I please make a request? The next time you come to Happy Family Friendly Fairy Land, do you think it would be too difficult to wear a t-shirt instead of that so trendy wife beater you have on?

I wouldn't ask; I generally don't like to talk to strangers, but my precious 3 year-old little boy ALMOST saw your humungus tattoo on your bulging bicep. You know, the one of your mother...or your girlfriend...or your wife - I'm not sure which lovely lady in your life is permanently burned into your flesh, but it's the one who has no clothes. Your full frontal friend is a little too detailed for our family.

Hello, Cute Mommy at Dr. Deibel's office. You have such a cute little girl. I don't have a little girl, so I don't know much about the things, but yours is sooo sweet in that precious gingham smocked dress there. May I ask why you are letting her run around the sick side of the waiting room barefoot? It is rather cool outside, and I am pretty sure you could at least afford some sandals, so you may want to re-think that.

I hate to be the one to bring it up, but there are an awful lot of germy germs in a pediatric waiting room. I know there are some children that exist that refuse to wear shoes, but you ARE the Mommy, and this IS totally gross in my book. Maybe I'm just out on a limb here, but...yes, nice to meet you too.

Hello, Beautiful Young Lovely Ladies on The Bachelor. You may not realize this, but you are on national TV. Your mummies, daddies, and grammies are watching you. And your lovely young bosoms, too. We can all see them, in fact. For that matter, you are so scantily clad, it is clear to all of TVLand precisely what you look like naked. I know you probably did not intend to appear naked on TV before us all, but you are.

I am sure you were just trying to appear naked to Mr. Bachelor - clearly, a man with discriminating taste, and of the most upstanding moral character, I'm sure - but in the process, you inadvertently revealed your goodies to us all. Next group of young ladies, please take heed - large bosoms will not reveal your large intelligence. Have a little discretion, please.

Sincerely,
Common Sense

Final

2006-11-12T14:06:00.002-06:00

My parents' divorce is final. Eleven months, nearly to the day it was orignally filed, it is finally over. I have no idea what to think. I don't know what to feel. I feel panicky, like I've been holding my breath, or I've had the wind knocked out of me. I just found out, so it's really fresh. Like a wound.

Am I glad? No...Relieved? A little...I wanted the petty bickering to be over with, and I did not want them to have to go to court. So it is official that I don't know how I feel.

What am I supposed to do? I feel like I should call someone to tell them, but I don't know who to call, so I'm not calling anyone. I don't know how I would say it, anyway..."guess what, the divorce is final!" Or, "well, it's over..." Neither one sounds right. Jason is asleep, so there's no help on that end...I sure won't call either of my parents...Diane? No, I've been a basket case enough lately with her. Somebody who reads this and will see her soon, tell her please? This is what it comes down to every time I am faced with a horrible situation. I am alone. It's just me sitting here, with God looking down, waiting to see what I am going to do.

It was final on Wednesday...Wednesday I didn't feel good, so I cancelled my office hours and called in sick. Did I know somehow? Is that why I felt so bad?

I need the divorce ettiqutte book, chapter 15: How You Are Supposed to Feel When Your Parents' Divorce is Final. The thing is, I feel that this is one of the testing moments we are faced with. That I will always remember what I did when I found out that the divorce was final...you know, like I threw things, or I cried, or I got drunk, or I drove around the countryside until I ran out of gas. I want to remember that I did the right thing, that I made the right choice, or that I had the right attitude.

I know that I am supposed to pray, so I guess I will do that...I just keep picturing Jesus alone in the garden, praying, waiting to be put to death. I see Him keep running back to His friends, begging them, can't you just stay awake a little while, stay awake for me, be with me. He didn't need to hear some wise words of wisdom, just his closest friends to be with him.

Probably I am overreacting, taking this way too seriously...I mean, it's not like I am about to be put to death. It's not like I didn't know this was coming. But still...there's the pain anyway, and I need to do something. I just haven't figured out what that is, yet.

I will say this.

I believe to the core of who I am that in all things, I am to praise Him. Praise Him in good times, praise Him in bad times, praise Him in times of suffering, times of pain, times of loss. And this is one of those times.

The Hidden Costs of Public Schools

2006-10-28T19:41:00.002-05:00

Well, while most of your children were having a grand time at a wholesome Trunk or Treat event tonight, I spent the evening with my boys here at home finding out precisely what my 6-year-old is learning at our local public school.

C: Mommy, Maddie at school told me that one time she saw two kids kiss each other. On the privates.

Me: (Not freaking out) Well, I bet that didn't make God happy. What do you know about staying pure?

C: They aren't supposed to let other people see their privates. She said it was on TV.

Me: That's too bad. People aren't supposed to be showing each other their privates. They aren't supposed to be talking about them, either. The next time you hear kids talking about that at school, I want you to tell them they aren't supposed to talk about that.

C: But Maddie is my best friend.

Me: Then you tell her that your mommy doesn't let you talk about that.

C: Ok.

It's amazing what you learn at bedtime, those last few minutes of the day. While this conversation may rank at various levels on different people's personal Richter scales, it is a serious warning bell to me. Satan is itching to pollute our kids' minds at earlier ages than ever, and we need to be proactive.

I suppose this conversation could have taken place at private school just as easily, but of course it makes me feel incredibly guilty about not sending him back to private school this year. I don't want him to get this information like I did, on the playground, in 2nd grade. But my gosh, he is six years old. SIX.

We'll need to be proactive a little sooner than I thought.

(Star) Bucks for Ruthie

2006-10-03T21:02:00.002-05:00

Have you seen this lady before? She is from Mwanza, and her name is Ruthie. She has recently learned that in order to live a healthy life with her children and husband, she will have to be on medication for the rest of her life. The problem is that this medicine will cost her our equivalent of about $3.50 per month. Can her family easily afford this? No.

What is $3.50 to me? I can worry all day about our debt - the student loans we will be paying back for the next 28 years, the taxes we owe, the credit card debt we carry - I can obsess and fret all day, but it hasn't stopped me yet from going to Starbucks 2 times a week and ordering my favorite Cafe Mocha, at 3.85 a cup.

In my perceived notion of our poverty, I am overflowing with wealth. After reading about Ruth days ago, I have not been able to make my regular drive-by at Starbucks. The idea of foolishly blowing 3.85 on designer coffee for myself - when the exact same amount will keep this other woman on the other side of the world alive - it doesn't make sense to me.

I'm not going as far as to give up coffee altogether, or giving up everything I don't need (maybe I should) - but I am giving up the expensive treat that serves no other purpose in my life other than to make me happy for 20 minutes. Instead, I am writing a check for Ruthie - it's not even a big check, but hopefully it will make her life and her family's life easier for almost a year.

I know service to others is supposed to be done in secret, but I really wanted to tell you about Ruthie. Is there someone you know of who needs a tiny sacrifice from you?

The Montgomery Specials

2006-08-07T10:54:00.002-05:00

The Montgomery Specials are the bane of my existance. A Montgomery Special is a type of cockroach found in south Alabama. They can be as large as the size of your thumb, and generally are about half that size. They are surprisingly fast, considering the large body they have in comparison to their skinny, hairy legs.

I am terrified, mortified, horrified, and revolted by the sheer fact that we live in the same zip code as these creatures. I need therapy every time I discover one in our home.

I have needed a lot of therapy lately. So far, I have found one in the house every day for the past six days:
Dead: under the boys's bed.
Alive: in the back storage pantry.
Dead: in my bathroom.
Dead: in the kitchen.
Alive: in the kitchen.
Alive: in the boys' closet.

We have a policy with Terminex. They come one time every 4 months, and more if you have a special request. We have put in a special request lately, and they have come and sprayed. They told us the problem was worse all over town lately because of the heat, but I have to wonder: is it my housekeeping??

I am not the great housekeeper I long to be. I can think of 10 close friends off the top of my head that are better at spic'n span than I am. Is this my fault? Is it because we have a pool?

My ultimate fear is that one of these creatures will crawl into bed to snuggle up with my precious babies at night. Please please, someone out there help me!!

Duncan's Third Birthday

2006-07-07T14:47:00.002-05:00

What a Mom

2006-07-06T12:15:00.002-05:00

Awww!!! I just saw a heartwarming photo of 5 generations of firstborn women. I went to church with #2, was a student of #3, and babysat #4. What a precious gift to have the opportunity to take such a picture!

"Number 3" was my favorite English teacher. In high school, she was the woman and mom I wanted to be - intelligent, wise, efficient, vibrant, competent - and funny! I loved spending time with her. Everything she did was wonderful in my eyes. She had beautiful children, a husband she loved to be with, a job teaching my favorite subject and a fabulous house! My most treaured memories from high school are those of the hours I spent at her house. I remember being happy there, and I remember being content while passing time with her. I relish any childhood memory in which I can remember being happy.

One thing that I particularly liked about her was that she loved a project. She was always working on creating some project, whether it was writing a book, sewing something or smocking something. Those projects that she worked on were just for her. She did those things not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Through watching my teacher, a mother I loved, I learned a lesson that she did not know she was offering. It taught me that no matter how busy you are with your family, your church, or your job, you should value the time you spend with yourself. It taught me that how we view ourselves in relationship to the world dictates how we will spend our time - are you a worthwhile member of society? Then you will spend a little time doing something that you enjoy, not because you are doing it for someone else, or not because you have to accomplish that particular task, but because you enjoy life, and you take pleasure in creating something that is a product of your mind and your heart.

I have a plethora of memories in my heart of times spent with her. Each vignette seems to hold another life lesson, another key to being a successful woman. I hope that somehow, I have managed to incorporate her vibrance into my life and the woman I am today. I hope that I can pass that on to some other girl somewhere, who might be searching like I was for a little guidance, a little direction.

I think it is interesting, that here I sit, close to 15 years later, and I still hope to be just like her in so many ways! I marvel at how she continues to touch my heart - I continue to love you, Nancy P! Thank you for your part in my life.
~GMS

The Joy of Soap

2006-05-01T21:26:00.002-05:00

Wow. I had no idea there was a wide world of soap out there that I've been missing. Have I been under a rock my whole life? Really, I seriously want to know why I haven't tried making soap before today. (Maybe because I am so busy that I hardly have time for crafts anymore?)

The cover of the April issue of "All You" magazine has this great photo of homemade gift soap. I needed a good gift idea for Mother's Day, and the magazine promised it would be fast and easy, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Step one: Take a trip to my office with the Tasmanian Devil (son #2) to print out a Hobby Lobby 40% off coupon. We were in and out in 5 minutes, and only caused a minimal uproar to the busy professionals who were getting Important Stuff Done (they were all standing around the printer chatting).

Step two: Go to Hobby Lobby. Spend 5 minutes looking for the soap-making supplies. Find them. Spend 5 more minutes picking out one large bag of clear glycerin and one small bag of opaque glycerin soap chunks. Spend 3 minutes convincing Tasmanian Devil we do not need a tiny 3 dollar bag of colored chunks of soap.

Step three: Take Tasmanian Devil to "wee-wee" in the store's bathroom, of course far away from where we are. Go back to the soap aisle. Spend 3 minutes smelling different Soap Scents. Take Tasmanian Devil to wee-wee for the 2nd time. Go back to the soap aisle. Spend 5 minutes debating whether I should buy the special soap dyes, or just use food coloring. Decide to invest 2.27 plus tax on the special soap dyes. I suspect they are exactly the same thing as food coloring, but what the heck. Take Tasmanian Devil to wee-wee for the 3rd time. I threaten to take him to the doctor if he needs to wee-wee again. This is not normal. Go back to the soap aisle. Spend 3 minutes picking out 2 different soap molds. Finally! Head for the register. Cost: $30.00 in 40 minutes.

Step four: Tasmanian Devil and Mommy are ready to make soap. All supplies are on the counter. Tasmanian Devil suddenly needs a banana. Stop opening bags and bottles to peel a banana.

Step five: Let Tasmanian Devil put soap bricks into a microwavable container. Melt soap for 30 seconds. Stir. Warn Tasmanian Devil that it is very hot, and could burn him. He counts out the drops of scent for me as I drop them in. Add the dye. Give a mini-lesson on primary colors, and demonstrate how blue plus yellow equals green. Cook soap another 15 seconds. Pour hot green soap into the frog molds.

Step six: Wait. Soap must cool.

Step seven: Pop frogs out of their bogs. Tasmanian Devil is thrilled, and wants to wash his hands to test out the soap. Success! Mother's Day gifts for both grandmothers and a Tasmanian Devil with clean hands!

The best part was at bedtime:
Mommy: Honey, you did such a good job helping me make soap today.
Tasmanian Devil: Mommy, everything we did was good today.

Precious little guy. Not a devil at all!!