Category Archives: Uncategorized

What is the cure for post vacation blues?  Family dinners at my house. It’s my favorite time of day.  I don’t necessarily enjoy making dinner, but I love our time together at the table.  It is our time to connect and tell each other about our day.  Most of the time is spent telling stories and laughing.  Tonight was particularly funny.  I was sure that noodles would come flying out of noses and mouths.  Thankfully, they did not make an appearance.  But the laughter gave health to my spirit.

As you know, my daughter and I went to New York City.  It was wonderful.  We had a great time together.  We walked all over the city and saw a lot of wonderful things.  We spent a lot of time watching people.  (An activity we both enjoy.)  And we talked about life…things happening now and our hopes and dreams for the future.  We did not want it to end.  But home was calling us back. 

The transition from vacation to normal life can be difficult, though.  It is good to be reunited with family, but the chores of life are not as exciting as Time Square in the evenings.  Add to that the dreary weather we have had, and you get post vacation blues.  Which is why dinner was so wonderful tonight.   I was reminded that my life may not be filled with bright lights and endless entertainment, but it is definitely full of laughter and a great deal of love.  I’m glad to be home.

Moving is hard.  I was reminded of the ‘special’ stress involved with moving recently.  We have some good friends who are moving in a few weeks.  There have been some stressful days filled with a sick pet, carpet cleaners, new garage door installation, packing and storing items, stagers, and the like.  All of this while maintaining a job, hunting for a new house, and keeping kids entertained while on summer break.  Oh, and then there is the mental and emotional stress of good bye parties and last get- togethers.  Despite the stressful circumstances, they are doing well.  They are trying to maintain a sense of humor and are relying heavily on God.

As my friend goes through this process, I can’t help but think about my moving experiences.  My kids and I had many adventures getting the house ready for a showing and then trying to find something to do for a couple of hours with our eighty pound dog.  Sometimes we would go to a park, but there were many times when we would get in our van and drive around.  It was during one of those times that I had to pull off the road because my kids had me laughing so hard about our situation.  That is when I began saying, “this is what my life has become….driving around with a dog who hates cars, hoping that someone will buy the house we don’t want to leave.”  We couldn’t help but laugh.  We still laugh about it. 

It has been almost two years since our last move.  I still can remember the stress, the tears, the heart ache, the grief.  But mostly, I remember God’s goodness and faithfulness.  I have seen how our moves have stretched each of us and how God has used that to mold us into the people He wants us to become.  So as my friend prepares to leave, I am sad that we won’t see each other as often, but I am also excited to see what God has planned for her and her family.  Let the adventure begin!

Today is my oldest daughter’s 16th birthday.  She made her appearance three weeks early.  My husband and I were supposed to be at a Fourth of July party.  Instead, we were at the hospital.  I remember thinking, ‘I’m not ready’.  I have since learned that you are never really ready to be a parent.  It is challenging.  But, oh so worth it. 

To celebrate, she and I are going to New York City.  It is a trip that she proposed.  (She created a power point presentation for my husband and I.)  She has planned the itinerary and mapped out our days.  She has helped to finance part of it through babysitting, pet sitting, and chores.  Needless to say, I am very proud of her.  She had a dream.  She told us about her dream.  And she began planning for her dream.  She had to face dream killers.  She faced fear and doubt.  Yet, she continued pursuing her dream.  Now, we are going to her dream destination to see her dream Broadway production.  I am in awe of her determination and hard work.  When I look at her, I can’t help but think of the incredible work God has done, both in my life as a mom and hers as she grows up.  He is so good.

So as we watch the fireworks live in New York City, I will be overflowing with joy because I have been given the honor and privilege of having such a precious daughter.  She is truly a gift.

My son loves watching American Ninja Warrior.  It is a show where athletes compete to finish a very difficult obstacle course testing their strength, agility, balance, and stamina.   He has watched every episode several times.  He can tell you all about the competitors.  He can tell you the times of those in the lead.  And he is eagerly awaiting the finals to see who will win.  I have to admit that I, too, have become a fan as I watch with him.  I am in awe of these athletes.  I know that the things they are doing are difficult, yet many of them seem to do the tasks with such ease.  Watching them makes me think I can do what they do. 

Intermixed in the competition, the athletes are interviewed.  I enjoy learning about each athlete and the training they endured in order to compete.  All of them have trained for many months.  Some of them have faced physical injuries and surgeries that threatened to end their chances.  Some of them have created parts of the obstacle course in or around their homes in order to train whenever they had free time.  All of them have made some sacrifices.  All of them have had times when they had to push through the pain to continue.  I am so glad for the back stories.  Not only because they are interesting, but they are essential.  You see, without them, it would be easy to watch these athletes and think that they are just naturally gifted and that no real effort was needed for them to succeed.  But that’s not true.  

I wish we could get the back stories of people who are doing what we dream of doing.  Without them, we begin to make assumptions.  We assume they are natually gifted or that the task is easy for them.  We assume they have resources or a support system that is unavailable to us.  We assume they didn’t really have to make sacrifices or push through rough times.  All our assuming can feed our excuses and make it easy to give up on our dreams.  But the back stories tell us the truth.  It takes work and sacrifice to fulfill our dreams.  It takes dedication and focus.  It takes strength and perseverance when we want to give up.  Pursuing a dream is hard work physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.  But as I watch the athletes complete the course and raise their hands in victory, I am reminded that the effort is worth the reward!  Press on!

I am not super woman.  I am an ordinary woman who just happened to have five children in a very short period of time.  This feat was made possible by having four babies at once. (My husband and I believe in efficiency…)  I am amazed at the reactions I get when people find out about our family.  I hear things like, ‘you must be a saint’ or ‘God knew who to give them to’ or ‘you must be mother of the year’.   It makes me smile and think, if only you realy knew me.  God did not choose me to have these children because I possess some great mothering gene.  He did not choose me because I had such great patience or capacity to love.  He chose me because He is God and He gets to decide such things.  His choosing had nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Him.

So often when God calls us to something we look at who we are; our gifts, our talents, our abilities, our life situations, our temperment.  Based on what we see, we determine whether or not we should pursue our calling. We look to see if we are up to the task.  We are looking at it from the wrong side.  It is not about who we are, but who God is.  None of us are fully prepared for what life throws our way.  But God knows us intimately and wants to show Himself through each of us if we will let Him; if we will trust Him.

I did not know how I was going to handle five kids.  I was not prepared, but God was.  He provided over one hundred people who helped us the first year.  He brought other moms in my life to teach me, encourage me, and support me.  He gave me Himself in such wonderful ways that brought peace, wisdom, and strength.  He will do the same for you.  He is an equal opportunity God.  He loves to take ordinary women and have them do extraordinary things. 

Ruts can be frustrating.  I have a friend who experienced a rut in Africa.  She and several others had gone there for a mission trip.  Apparently, their vehicle got stuck in a mud rut.  The rut made it impossible to get back on the road.  It was taking them where they did not want to go.  She said that the driver then had to back up to where they were on solid ground; they had to return to the last time they were on the right path.  From there, they could follow the road and avoid the rut.  By doing this they were able to make it to their destination.

I have found myself in a relational rut lately.  Somewhere, I began to vear off the path. It was minor at first, but now, I find myself in a place I do not want to be.  There is distance and distrust.  There is hurt and anger.  This is not how it was supposed to be.  I find myself hiding my heart when I should be sharing it.  I find myself silent when I should be sharing my thoughts.  I find myself guarded when I should be transparent.  I do not like where this path is taking me, but I can’t seem to turn around.  I need to back up to where I was on solid ground.  I need to back up to the path before I got caught in the rut.  And where was that?  Before I let the root of bitterness take hold.  Just to type that sentence makes me sad and sick.  I know the verses that talk of not letting the root of bitterness take hold.  The verses that talk of forgiveness, and not sinning in your anger.  Yet I did not do what I was told to do.  I held on to hurt, then anger, then bitterness.  In doing so I have created a rut that has taken me off course.  It has damaged a relationship.

So now I am backing up.  Along the way, I am asking God to help me as I choose to forgive; as I choose to let go of the hurt.  Backing up is rather uncomfortable.  It’s an admission of having gone the wrong way.  I don’t like that.  It’s having to retrace some ground that was painful the first time around.  Although, this time I do it with God’s grace and mercy.  I am making my way back to the right path.  My hope is that as I do, there can be restoration.  In the end, the relationship may not be what I want it to be.  That may not be possible.  But, I will be walking the path that God has called me to walk and hopefully, I will be doing it in a way that brings Him praise. 

I saw them as I walked through the bathroom my daughters share.  They were on the floor.  They were supposed to be in the trash can.  Instead, they were surrounding it.  The sight of them made me want to scream. (Actually, I did scream.)  Pad wrappers….  I didn’t understand.  How could they use the bathroom and not see them?  How could they just walk by them and not pick them up?  Was their vision impaired?  Were they saving them for some purpose for which I was unaware?  I’d like to say that I remained calm and politely asked my daughters for an explanation.  But that is not what happened.  Instead, I said something sarcastic about missing the trash can and then began lecturing them about cleaning up after themselves.  By the time I was done, all three were visibly upset.  (So was my daughter’s friend who was spending the night.  Thankfully, she spends enough time at our house to know that I’m not always this crazy!)  In trying to explain why the wrappers were left, my daughter told me that ‘you get used to your own trash’. 

You get used to your own trash.

I’ve noticed that trend in my own life before.  Usually, it’s a particular sin or bad habit that I become immune to.  I may notice it at first, but I tell myself that I can handle it; it won’t be a problem.  Time passes and I get used to seeing it.  I may not like it, but it becomes a part of the landscape of my life.  Then comes the time when I don’t even notice it anymore.  It has been fully integrated.  I should have dealt with it swiftly, but I put it off.  I told myself it’s not that bad; I’ll deal with it later.  Later doesn’t come.  And the trash pile continues to grow until someone or something brings it back to my attention. 

Thankfully, I have a family and some good friends who are willing to point out some of my trash piles.  They do it because I have asked them to.  And I know when they point something out, they do so in love and with prayer.  I don’t always like having my trash exposed.  It’s hard.  It’s uncomfortable.  It makes me sad and a little embarrassed.  But I’m not alone.  Because those same people stand by me and walk with me as I begin the process of cleaning up.  And in the end, I am much happier.

I used to dread Father’s Day.  When I was younger, kids would tease me about not having a father.  We lived in a small town where, at the time, no one else in my class had experienced divorce.  At the end of the school year when we made gifts for our dads, the kids would taunt me; telling me I had no one to give my gift to.  My heart was broken by the fact that I did have a father, he just chose not to have a relationship with me.  Thankfully, I did have a wonderful grandfather who always showered me with love and affection.  I was his only grandchild for many years and the only granddaughter for twenty.  To say that he spoiled me would be an understatement.  As much as I loved my grandfather and was blessed by his presence in my life, I always wondered what a real father looked like.  Now I know.

From the first moment my husband laid eyes on our first child, I knew a father was born.  He stood there just gazing and smiling at her for what seemed like hours.  He developed an evening routine with her before bed that included play time and a bath.  It was his time with her and it was sacred.  He continued the routine when the quads came along; it just became a little more challenging juggling all five.  I have watched him love each one of them for who God created them to be.  He disciplines them so they know what is right.  He talks to them about who God is and what He has done for us.  He has big expectations for our children because he knows what they are capable of doing, but is gracious and merciful if they fall short of the goal.  He is fiercely protective and creates a safe, loving environment for them to learn and grow.  He does make mistakes, but is strong enough to ask for forgiveness.  I am very thankful for him.

I have seen first hand the love of a father and the blessings it brings to a child.  Through my husband, I witness the sweet reflection of my Heavenly Father’s love.  It brings healing to my broken heart and fills me with unspeakable joy.  I am truly blessed!

My kids like to compare scars.  They compare them with each other and with their friends.  One of my sons has a scar from a friend hitting him in the head with a golf club.  It required stitches.  My other son has a scar from a hernia repair.  (Thankfully, he does not show that scar to anyone!)  My oldest daughter has a scar on her chin and one by her ear from two different falls.  All of my younger children have scars from IVs.  They were nine weeks early and required many.  Sometimes my husband and I will join in and show our various scars.  Some of which we acquired during childhood and some as adults.   In some way, it is interesting to recount the different incidences that caused the injuries.  Often times we find ourselves laughing about the circumstances and the reactions of others.  Some of the stories only got funny with age… 

Comparing our scars is really an act of intimacy.  Through the telling of the stories we discover important details about each other.  We learn of important events.  We learn the thoughts and feelings of others.  We also learn the impact the events have had.  I learned from my oldest daughter, who saw her brother get hit with the golf club, that she thought he was going to die because of all the blood.  She was terrified and worried for her brother.  And now she has no interest in learning to play golf.  She associates it with getting hurt.  (Did I mention she saw me get hit in the head with a golf club as well?) 

You can learn a lot about someone from their scars.  That’s why I think it is so important to share them with those who are close to us.  Our scars speak to where we have been and why we react the way we do.  I know it can be scary.  You may not want to share all the gory details, especially at first, but there is closeness that enters into relationships when we share our scars.  And so often, in the sharing, God brings healing.  One day while sharing the scars of my father leaving, my youngest daughter, with tears in her eyes, said that she was sure my father did love me even if he couldn’t be with me.  Those words pierced my heart and brought healing in a way that I could never have imagined. 

So don’t cover your scars as if they don’t exist or don’t matter.  They do.  Share them when you feel led to do so.  You may be surprised what God will do….

I had lunch with a friend a few days ago.  She was telling me how she had begun taking piano lessons.  She had wanted to learn to play the piano for a while and was given the gift of lessons for her birthday.  Her entire face lit up as she began to tell me about her lessons and the song she was learning.  She became a giddy little girl right before my very eyes.  It was fantastic!  What caught my attention were her comments about how the joy and the richness of playing permeated other areas of her life.  The fulfillment she received while playing the piano overflowed, and brought her peace and satisfaction long after she had finished.  I found myself smiling and being filled with immeasurable joy as she shared her experience.  I can’t help but smile every time I think about it!

It made me think about God’s reaction when we follow our dreams.  I think it makes Him smile.  After all, He was the one who gave them to us.  And He knows better than anyone, even ourselves, the joy and satisfaction we receive when we pursue a dream.  When we follow our dreams, we become like little children who have discovered a hidden treasure; giddy with excitement.  I think He can’t help but smile!