It's Christmas time. I love this time of year. When you're a child, Christmas is where it's at. Everything is magical and special and the most amazing thing you have ever seen... being a kid at Christmas is something we all experience, but we don't cherish it until we are older. We assume, as children, that Christmas is this great for everyone, young and old. We don't know anything about budgets and long lines and grumpy people, we only see the wonder of the Season. We saw the gifts under the tree and didn't even begin to comprehend their cost. We saw the stores full of shoppers and were excited by the hustle and bustle. We didn't even notice grumpy people because we ourselves were full of kindness. We can really learn so much from our children.
When I was 5 years old, my dad bought our first real live Christmas tree. Mom and daddy had just moved us into our first ever brand new home. I was convinced we were filthy rich because we had all white carpets and mom and dad had a JACUZZI in their bathroom. It was awesome. Just sayin. We had vaulted ceilings in the living room. I'm not quite sure how high they were, but I was pretty short back then ( because I'm a whopping 5'1 now, so I can use short like it's a thing of the past.) and it felt like the ceiling was miles above me. Daddy brought home a tree that was so tall, the Angel's head was squished against the ceiling. There she was, in all her white taffeta angelic glory, blonde curls cascading down her back and forehead pressed firmly against the white peak of the vaulted walls. Mom and dad went all out that Christmas. They bought fancy ( Wal-Mart) ornaments and daddy even bought some of the jumbo ornaments that were as big as my little chili bowl hair cutted ( not a real word) head. I remember sitting at the foot of that tree, listening to the Carpenter's Christmas album on my mom's old record player ( we kept it old school at the Thomas house) and just being in awe of my life. Here I was, 5 years old, and I lived in a house with all white new carpet AND a jacuzzi with a Christmas tree that was miles high and ornaments as big as my head. My life was simply too good. I had no idea the value of money. I didn't understand that my house was just an ordinary house and that there were many tree's that were taller... I just saw what I had and knew that it was enough. It was so much more than enough. The ending of this story is that I decided to take down one of the huge ornaments and dance around the room to some sort of impromptu interpretive dance and I dropped it and broke it and promptly hid all the evidence under the couch. Two lessons here: 1. clearly our fancy carpet needed a better padding system. How did it break on CARPET?? and 2. I had moments of goodness and moments of not so goodness. sue me.
At church last night, we continued talking about Advent. Before the birth of Christ, the people were desperate to see the Messiah. They were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their King. It's funny because I know that they expected just that... a king. They weren't looking for a helpless baby to guide them to freedom. I love God's divine wisdom. He's so beautiful is all senses of the word. God sent the hope of the world in the form of a baby. When a woman is pregnant, we all wait for the birth. We anticipate it, we talk about it, we speculate about when exactly it will happen. Before modern technology and of course in Biblical times, there were signs of the pregnancy ( parrallel it to prophecies in the old testament) there were contractions ( angel visits Mary) and then there was the actual birth ( Jesus is born, this one isn't really abstract) You didn't know exactly when it was coming, only that it WAS coming. The people cried out to God for their Messiah. They begged him to respond, and he did... in a way they all could all relate to.
I love O Holy Night and we sang it last night at church. My favorite line is " the thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn"
The thrill of hope.
HOPE
Hope is a chance. Hope is a future, it is a shot, an opportunity, a way made. Hope is being one day late and thinking " this could be it". Hope is hearing testimony from couple's who tried to have children and thought they had lost hope, only to conceive. Hope is seeing the child you're going to adopt and saying "he's mine"
Hope is Jesus and his plan for your life.
This is the season of hope
God granted you salvation through a baby
He knows your desires and what's to say he won't grant you joy through a baby once again?
Keep hoping. The new morning is coming and it's pretty glorious my friends...
we press on,
LB
Mr. S and I
Monday, December 10, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Find me faithful
Proverbs 31:10-31
10 [d] An excellent wife who can find?
She is far more precious than jewels.
11 The heart of her husband trusts in her,
and he will have no lack of gain.
12 She does him good, and not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She seeks wool and flax,
and works with willing hands.
14 She is like the ships of the merchant;
she brings her food from afar.
15 She rises while it is yet night
and provides food for her household
and portions for her maidens.
16 She considers a field and buys it;
with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
17 She dresses herself[e] with strength
and makes her arms strong.
18 She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.
Her lamp does not go out at night.
19 She puts her hands to the distaff,
and her hands hold the spindle.
20 She opens her hand to the poor
and reaches out her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of snow for her household,
for all her household are clothed in scarlet.[f]
22 She makes bed coverings for herself;
her clothing is fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates
when he sits among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them;
she delivers sashes to the merchant.
25 Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
26 She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
27 She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children rise up and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates.
10 [d] An excellent wife who can find?
She is far more precious than jewels.
11 The heart of her husband trusts in her,
and he will have no lack of gain.
12 She does him good, and not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She seeks wool and flax,
and works with willing hands.
14 She is like the ships of the merchant;
she brings her food from afar.
15 She rises while it is yet night
and provides food for her household
and portions for her maidens.
16 She considers a field and buys it;
with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
17 She dresses herself[e] with strength
and makes her arms strong.
18 She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.
Her lamp does not go out at night.
19 She puts her hands to the distaff,
and her hands hold the spindle.
20 She opens her hand to the poor
and reaches out her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of snow for her household,
for all her household are clothed in scarlet.[f]
22 She makes bed coverings for herself;
her clothing is fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates
when he sits among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them;
she delivers sashes to the merchant.
25 Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
26 She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
27 She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children rise up and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates.
I love this passage. It's really beautiful and powerful and just so well written. The Bible is full of beautiful, passionate, just awe inspiring sentences and passages. Every book needs a great introduction. Something to catch the reader, to hold their attention.
1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without
form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the
Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
" And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters". I love that word, hovering. It so perfectly and eloquently describes the Creator moments before he began his work. Hovering... The second act of a play needs something equally engaging as the first. Something to unify both pieces and also to let the ones watching know that this is a new act entirely.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life,[a] and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
I love how it starts off with the same familiar words. Words you recognize, you know them, you trust them. " In the beginning" but quickly you see that this act is different. It is something more... " and the Word was God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made" If you keep reading, you'll find out exactly who the Word is.
14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.
He became flesh. That's so much better than simply saying " He was born." or " He became man". He literally took on flesh. The God of the universe took on flesh. He took on every experience, every emotion, every challenge spiritual and physical that the flesh presents... He did not merely present himself in human form.. he took on flesh... just beautiful.
I've gotten way off subject. I do that.
Today I want to write for my future daughter. The thought of having a girl both delights and terrifies me. I am delighted when I walk through Target and see adorable tu tu's and onsies and headbands ( oh my) and I am terrified when I think about a teenage girl living in my home. She has to live there. I have to deal with a teenage girl 24/7. I can't afford boarding school and we aren't Catholic, so a convent is totally out of the question, so I. have. to. do. it.
Teenage girls are dramatic and moody and believe that high school is the mecca of life and that if anything goes wrong in high school their lives are ruined and they'll never be happy ever again, ever. I know this thought process because I was once a teenage girl. In all seriousness, if I have a daughter, my goal would be to point her to Proverbs 31. I wish that I could tell you that my youth was filled with excellent choices. I wish I could tell you that I always behaved in a way that would have pleased both my earthly and my heavenly father. I wish I could tell you that I have no regrets... I can not. I spent my time chasing after acceptance, looking for redemption and truthfully not knowing who I was at all. I was, whatever someone needed me to be, but very rarely myself. I knew the Word in they way that most people interpret " the word" to be... the Bible. I knew what it said, knew passages from memory. I did not however, know the Word as it is referenced in John 1. The Word is Jesus, and I did not know him.
My darling daughter,
Above anything else I could ask on your behalf from the Father, I would ask him to make you wise and faithful. I have a dear friend( you'll know her, trust me. She can't wait to squish you) who pointed out some hidden wisdom in the final chapter of Proverbs. Notice the 12th verse. She does him good ALL the days of her life. She doesn't not only do him good once she meets him, or once she has some fun and decides it's time to settle down. ALL. I want you to know how valuable you are. Your father and I waited so long for you. We prayed for you, wept for you, thought about you every day. I ask that you recognize your value and in all things, EVERY day, live with dignity and honor and know, that you my girl, are not like everyone else. I ask that you would have a helpful and willing spirit and that you would want to work for what you have. ( v 13) That you would be strong and modest and know that modest doesn't mean frumpy and out of style, it simply means that a boy would know the color of your eyes and the contents of your heart before he knows exactly how your body curves. (v 17). I ask that you would be kind. That you would recognize the blessings you have and not chase after the ones you do not. That you would not be selfish ( as I have been in the past) and that you would give joyfully, just like your dad. ( v. 20 and 26) I pray that you would always laugh and know that sometimes, it really is the best medicine. That you would never live in fear but always, always be willing to set your sails and risk the ocean. ( v.25) I pray that you would know that beauty is here for a time, but we all grow old. There will always be someone younger, someone prettier, someone who might make you feel as if you aren't enough... but you are. I guess it isn't really that age robs us of beauty, but that it changes it into something different. You are not defined by how you look. Something so easily lost can not define you. Be gracious, be humble, be loving and you will see real beauty all around you. ( v 29 and 30)
I ask that you would continue to pray for me and for Kindal. We are pulled in a thousand different directions and I can honestly tell you that we waiver often on what our next step towards a family should be. We have moments where we are so sure of what we want to do, and then moments when it seems like we have been standing still. I know our hearts. I know we want to raise daughters that are set apart, the kind that are strong and feisty and at the same time humble and wise. We want to raise sons who look to their Father for council and are not " like all the other boys". ( Not in a weird, socially awkward way lol, in a good way) I want them to set the world on fire... to leave this place better than they found it. I hope they find me faithful in my calling. That they will feel happy that I was chosen for them, that they will rise up and call me blessed.... (v 28)
We press on,
LB
Saturday, November 3, 2012
something in the water
I have not been a very good blogger the last few weeks. Translation: I haven't blogged at all. Translation: I'm sorry... I'll do better this month. I had a pretty serious case of writer's block and I let life get in the way. Forgive me? In my defense, last week Kindal had a terrible car wreck AND our water line busted at our house, so I was kind of busy... but still. If I had time to Facebook, I had time to blog. ( See how I just disciplined myself? Beat ya to the punch!)
Tonight I wanted to write about something that came to my mind last week while I was at dinner with mom and daddy and Kindal. I was thinking about water. I try to drink lots of water throughout the day. If I'm feeling a little crazy, I add a lemon wedge. I'm nothing if not adventurous. Sometimes I eat cereal for dinner too. I hope you can accept that. I was looking at my water, lemon wedge floating freely... Water is an amazing thing because it can be so harmless, boring almost... " What will you have to drink tonight, ma'am? Oh I guess I'll have water." ( When you really want a coke but you aren't going to pay 2.79 for a drink. Ridiculous.) Water is actually an incredibly powerful thing. It can restore life, it can destroy man's creation in seconds. Things that took hundreds of years to build are erased... It can carve through stone, quench thirst... cleanse you.
Water is used quite a lot in the Bible. God used water to cleanse the earth sparing only Noah and his family. The water was a death sentence for mankind, but Noah found favor and in the same span of 40 days and 40 nights, the water carried him to salvation. Moses floated down the Nile in a basket. The water carried him to his purpose. He must become a son of Pharaoh in order to lead God's people through, you guessed it, water. Moses would later part the Red Sea and the water that led the way to Salvation from a Godless nation, would crash down on the enemies of the Father and become their graves. Jonah ran from God. Where did he end up? In the water. Well, in the belly of a whale who lived in the water, but in a round about way, he was as deep in the water as one can be. He was vomited up on the shore and decided that perhaps his future was better left to the one who filled the seas with water... and whales. In the New Testament, Jesus turns water into wine. It is his first public miracle and it will not be his last involving water. The woman at the well went to draw water because she was thirsty, in more ways than one... Jesus met her there and revealed who He was and who SHE was. He knew her. Her secrets, her shame, her mistakes and who should would become in Him. She came because she was thirsty, the tangible water made way for Living Water and she left fulfilled, for the very first time. Jesus walked on water, demonstrating that while he was fully man he was also fully God. I don't know if you've tried walking in water... it turns into swimming real quick for us humans... real quick. Jesus calmed the seas, the same ones where he declared he would make his disciples "fishers of men". On the cross, his side was pierced. The wound released both blood... and water.... a means to salvation once again...
I don't know why, but that really just amazes me. Water. The stuff I drink from a bottle, even though it's a free, renewable resource and I can get it from my sink for free and I'm probably going to get cancer from drinking out of plastic every day... that clear liquid that washes my clothes, waters my yard ( I never water my yard but you get my point, you also know why my lawn is dead) and helps me brush my teeth is the exact same thing that flooded the earth. The same substance that wiped away a city in Louisiana, that parted before Moses and his staff, that carved out the Grand Canyon, that carried a baby to his destiny, that has crushed nations, that Jesus walked on.... water. It's not much to look at in a glass, but stand along the shore of the ocean, and try not to be filled with awe. Watch it drip from your hose and then look at the wall of water caused by a tidal wave and know that you are very small.
Tonight, I just want you to be in awe of the Father. I want you to think about water and see it's vast purpose. Without it you die, but caught in it's storm you're likely not to live. I don't have much to say about children tonight. I want them, you want them. We've established that. :) I hope that they, and you, read this and think about the vast power of God. He, like the water he created, restores life, sustains life, creates life and in the same way, he deserves awe. He should be looked at like the tidal wave about to crash, like the sea parting, like the gaping mouth of a whale opening wide.... knowing him is all the difference in how you see " the water".... it is either your salvation, or it is your end.
We Press On,
LB
Tonight I wanted to write about something that came to my mind last week while I was at dinner with mom and daddy and Kindal. I was thinking about water. I try to drink lots of water throughout the day. If I'm feeling a little crazy, I add a lemon wedge. I'm nothing if not adventurous. Sometimes I eat cereal for dinner too. I hope you can accept that. I was looking at my water, lemon wedge floating freely... Water is an amazing thing because it can be so harmless, boring almost... " What will you have to drink tonight, ma'am? Oh I guess I'll have water." ( When you really want a coke but you aren't going to pay 2.79 for a drink. Ridiculous.) Water is actually an incredibly powerful thing. It can restore life, it can destroy man's creation in seconds. Things that took hundreds of years to build are erased... It can carve through stone, quench thirst... cleanse you.
Water is used quite a lot in the Bible. God used water to cleanse the earth sparing only Noah and his family. The water was a death sentence for mankind, but Noah found favor and in the same span of 40 days and 40 nights, the water carried him to salvation. Moses floated down the Nile in a basket. The water carried him to his purpose. He must become a son of Pharaoh in order to lead God's people through, you guessed it, water. Moses would later part the Red Sea and the water that led the way to Salvation from a Godless nation, would crash down on the enemies of the Father and become their graves. Jonah ran from God. Where did he end up? In the water. Well, in the belly of a whale who lived in the water, but in a round about way, he was as deep in the water as one can be. He was vomited up on the shore and decided that perhaps his future was better left to the one who filled the seas with water... and whales. In the New Testament, Jesus turns water into wine. It is his first public miracle and it will not be his last involving water. The woman at the well went to draw water because she was thirsty, in more ways than one... Jesus met her there and revealed who He was and who SHE was. He knew her. Her secrets, her shame, her mistakes and who should would become in Him. She came because she was thirsty, the tangible water made way for Living Water and she left fulfilled, for the very first time. Jesus walked on water, demonstrating that while he was fully man he was also fully God. I don't know if you've tried walking in water... it turns into swimming real quick for us humans... real quick. Jesus calmed the seas, the same ones where he declared he would make his disciples "fishers of men". On the cross, his side was pierced. The wound released both blood... and water.... a means to salvation once again...
I don't know why, but that really just amazes me. Water. The stuff I drink from a bottle, even though it's a free, renewable resource and I can get it from my sink for free and I'm probably going to get cancer from drinking out of plastic every day... that clear liquid that washes my clothes, waters my yard ( I never water my yard but you get my point, you also know why my lawn is dead) and helps me brush my teeth is the exact same thing that flooded the earth. The same substance that wiped away a city in Louisiana, that parted before Moses and his staff, that carved out the Grand Canyon, that carried a baby to his destiny, that has crushed nations, that Jesus walked on.... water. It's not much to look at in a glass, but stand along the shore of the ocean, and try not to be filled with awe. Watch it drip from your hose and then look at the wall of water caused by a tidal wave and know that you are very small.
Tonight, I just want you to be in awe of the Father. I want you to think about water and see it's vast purpose. Without it you die, but caught in it's storm you're likely not to live. I don't have much to say about children tonight. I want them, you want them. We've established that. :) I hope that they, and you, read this and think about the vast power of God. He, like the water he created, restores life, sustains life, creates life and in the same way, he deserves awe. He should be looked at like the tidal wave about to crash, like the sea parting, like the gaping mouth of a whale opening wide.... knowing him is all the difference in how you see " the water".... it is either your salvation, or it is your end.
We Press On,
LB
Thursday, October 18, 2012
borrowed breaths
Job 7:7
Remember that my life is but a breath....
You breath 15 to 16 times in one minute. The Bible states that our entire lives are like one breath to God. ONE BREATH, Tonight's post is short and to the point and I hope that my children read it some day and that it inspires them and I pray it isnpires you too. I know that some of you reading this are hurting. You're depressed, you're defeated, you're tired of fighting, tired of trying to heal, tired of hearing people say things like " well at least you already have children." after you lost one that to some may not have really " counted". Tired of putting on a happy face at another baby shower where you aren't sitting in the chair opening gifts wrapped up in pink or blue. Tired of countng down the days until you "know". Tired of tracking ovulation, tired of watching everyone and their sister get pregant on their first month trying. I know you're tired. I get it. I get tired too. The message tonight is not an easy one to deliver, but I needed to hear it and frankly, you do too. You're living on borrowed breaths my friends. The air in your lungs was a gift. You don't deserve it, it was an act of kindess from a loving God who saw fit to mold up mounds of dirt into human flesh and breath air into nostrils that otherwise would have laid dormant. What are you doing with what you have been given, which is quite generous? How are you ministering to others? How are you glorifying the Father in times of heartache? How are you investing in others lives, even when there is nothing to gain? How are you using your breath? Inhale and see how quickly the exhale ends. You can try to draw it out, force it to be a long release, but you and I both know, that it's mere seconds at best. You can spend your life convincing yourself that "if you just had this_______" you'd be fulfilled, you'd be complete... but if you don't recognize the one who filled your lungs with air, then you can't appreciate the breaths. Hold your breath. You won't do it for long. It's too scary. You panic, feel the slight burn that tells you that you need oxygen and you gulp in a breath. You have already been given the ultimate gift two fold. 1. Jesus and 2. Breath. Both undeserved, both necessary for life, here and in eternity. I want very much to hold my children, to make them laugh, to sing them to sleep, to watch Kindal throw them high in the air and then see them throw up all over him because I told him not to toss them around like that right after we ate dinner... oh did I type out that last part? My bad. I want that very much, but it is not why I have been given breath. I have been given life to glorify the Father. I can not spend it feeling sorry for myself, ignoring the hurts of others, categorizing why my hurt is " worse" or more important than theirs, and neither can you. Spend some time this week fulfilling your purpose here in earth. Loving others, serving others, examining the needs of others and meeting them. You may not like your circumstances, you may not understand why you're walking through this, but take a deep breath and be thankful... that one, along with the other 14 or 15 you had in the last minute weren't really yours anyway.
We press on,
LB
Remember that my life is but a breath....
You breath 15 to 16 times in one minute. The Bible states that our entire lives are like one breath to God. ONE BREATH, Tonight's post is short and to the point and I hope that my children read it some day and that it inspires them and I pray it isnpires you too. I know that some of you reading this are hurting. You're depressed, you're defeated, you're tired of fighting, tired of trying to heal, tired of hearing people say things like " well at least you already have children." after you lost one that to some may not have really " counted". Tired of putting on a happy face at another baby shower where you aren't sitting in the chair opening gifts wrapped up in pink or blue. Tired of countng down the days until you "know". Tired of tracking ovulation, tired of watching everyone and their sister get pregant on their first month trying. I know you're tired. I get it. I get tired too. The message tonight is not an easy one to deliver, but I needed to hear it and frankly, you do too. You're living on borrowed breaths my friends. The air in your lungs was a gift. You don't deserve it, it was an act of kindess from a loving God who saw fit to mold up mounds of dirt into human flesh and breath air into nostrils that otherwise would have laid dormant. What are you doing with what you have been given, which is quite generous? How are you ministering to others? How are you glorifying the Father in times of heartache? How are you investing in others lives, even when there is nothing to gain? How are you using your breath? Inhale and see how quickly the exhale ends. You can try to draw it out, force it to be a long release, but you and I both know, that it's mere seconds at best. You can spend your life convincing yourself that "if you just had this_______" you'd be fulfilled, you'd be complete... but if you don't recognize the one who filled your lungs with air, then you can't appreciate the breaths. Hold your breath. You won't do it for long. It's too scary. You panic, feel the slight burn that tells you that you need oxygen and you gulp in a breath. You have already been given the ultimate gift two fold. 1. Jesus and 2. Breath. Both undeserved, both necessary for life, here and in eternity. I want very much to hold my children, to make them laugh, to sing them to sleep, to watch Kindal throw them high in the air and then see them throw up all over him because I told him not to toss them around like that right after we ate dinner... oh did I type out that last part? My bad. I want that very much, but it is not why I have been given breath. I have been given life to glorify the Father. I can not spend it feeling sorry for myself, ignoring the hurts of others, categorizing why my hurt is " worse" or more important than theirs, and neither can you. Spend some time this week fulfilling your purpose here in earth. Loving others, serving others, examining the needs of others and meeting them. You may not like your circumstances, you may not understand why you're walking through this, but take a deep breath and be thankful... that one, along with the other 14 or 15 you had in the last minute weren't really yours anyway.
We press on,
LB
Saturday, October 6, 2012
pupcakes and ferris wheels
One
of the many reasons I am so excited to become a parent, is because I
had such great parents myself. My mom and dad are two incredible people
who really " did it right" when it comes to raising kids ( which is why
I'm so great... and humble....) When you begin considering parenting you
start thinking about your own childhood. You ask yourself, " how would I
do it differently from my mom and dad?" Truthfully, I wouldn't change
anything. My parents laid out an awesome blue print for me as a parent.
They should write a book, or a blog, or a pamphlet. Something. My
childhood was overflowing with happiness, and fun and make believe and
laughter. One of the most difficult things for me in not having my own
child, besides my own longing, is knowing how great my parents will be
as grandparents and not being able to give them that joy. My parents
were MADE to spoil grandchildren. It's really true. My father will erect
ferris wheels, buy ponies, shut down Disney World, the whole nine
yards. My mom will bake cookies, ( which by the way, her cookies are
just so good. It's wrong really. I never eat them, I work in health and
fitness, but I've been told. That's a lie. I always eat them. ALWAYS.)
play hide and seek and read books until she loses her voice. They're
going to be the best " Gigi and Poppy" ever. They might even wear the
cute little sweatshirts that say " Gigi" and "Poppy" in plaid lettering.
You know what I'm talking about. They sell them at a kiosk in the mall.
They probably won't wear those. My parents are too cute and trendy and
look 35 years old....
Things my mother did right:
She helped me fall in love with reading. I spent
most of my early childhood in the Collinsville Public Library. We didn't
have much money and my mom was great at finding things to do that
didn't cost much, if anything at all. Every week, usually Monday, we
loaded into the blue mini van and made the drive to the library. I had
an orange plastic crate, yes crate, that I filled with all the books I
wanted. Mom would patiently walk down each aisle of the children's
section reading me every title of each book that I could get my grubby
little fingers on. ( I wasn't really grubby, my mom bathed me.) We would
sometimes sit in the over sized chairs and she would read a few to me
while I snuggled up with her. She always let me ask questions and she
always let ME turn the page. That's a big deal when you're little. Mom
is such a great " out loud reader". It must be the teacher in her.
She let me be creative. I was always in costumes
when I was a little girl. I loved wear slips and tutu's over my regular
clothes, because you never know when you'll need to bust out a dance
routine in the middle of your living room... or Reasor's. Mom always
encouraged my writing. I use to spend hours on my Gramps' computer
typing stories up and then illustrating them. She read them all. Mom
still encourages me to write. She still wants me to write a novel, and I
think I will and I'll dedicate it to her. She let us get messy and play
games. Once she let my sister and I make a giant spider web out of yarn
in our " toy room". I just about died from the joy of it. It's the
little things. She took us to the Nutcracker ballet when I was 6. We had
the cheapest seats, nose bleed. She kept her arms across my body the
entire time because we were up high and at an angle and I kept leaning
forward with my binoculars. I wore a black velvet dress and fancy patent
leather shoes and I was sure we were filthy rich because we were at the
ballet and mom had on lipstick and looked beautiful. I remember
thinking just that. I had no idea that I was in the cheap seats. A
lesson in perspective. the " cheap seats" are only cheap if you let them
be. I had the time of my life. Best seats in the house.
She was cool because she didn't try to be cool.
I've always genuinely liked my parents. My mom probably just laughed out
loud at that sentence because when I was a teenager I didn't always
portray that well with her, but I really did. I was never embarrassed of
them. I was proud of them and I still am. My mom was cool but not " I
wear the same clothes as my teenage daughter and let kids drink at my
house" cool. She was pretty and fun and awesome but without trying too
hard. I love being with my mom. We go to lunch, we shop, we see movies.
She comes to work out at Healthzone, where I work out and people say "
Hey is that lady who looks just like you, your mom?" To which I always
reply, " Well I look just like her. She was here first.. and yes she is"
Things my dad did right:
He did girl things with me. I never felt like my
dad wished he had a boy. He embraced his feminine side with boldness. We
would do interpretive dance in the living room where moves such as "
the ceiling fan", " the airplane" and just general balletic genius were
born. He would play tea party and barbies with us. He filled up the
jacuzzi to the brim with bubbles and plop my sister and I in and would
then judge our " who can style the best outfit out if bubbles?" contest.
He learned to fix our hair. ( His pony tails were tight. not tight like
cool, tight like we looked like we had face lifts....
He always made time for me. My dad was a busy man.
Still is. He runs a successful company, serves in his church, models for
GQ ( he'll love that). My dad was never too busy for me. He would pick
me up from school to go to lunch. He would let me go to work with him
and use his signature stamp to "sign off " on documents, aka: He would
let me stamp his name on a thousand pieces of blank paper and pretend I
was helping him do work. That was just last week actually. Kidding. He
took me on my first airplane ride at 6. ( 6 was a big year for me
people. the Nutcracker AND a plane ride.) We flew to Little Rock for a
one day business trip and I ate peanuts and drank Coke and talked the
ear off of the man next to me. He happened to work for a little company
called American Girl, you may have heard of it, and I loved me some
American Girl. he took me just because he wanted to spend time with me
and take me on a plane ride. That's legit. He still meets me for " lunch
dates" even though I'm a grown up and I still love it.
He loved me even when I was stupid. It takes a lot
to get my dad mad. You can screw up pretty bad and he'll forgive you.
He won't bring it up or hold it over your head. he doesn't make you feel
stupid even though you acted stupid. He taught me to forgive the way
God forgives. It's like it never happened. Doesn't mean there aren't
consequences here on earth, doesn't mean you get a free pass, but in the
end, when he said "it's forgiven"... he meant it. He had to extend
pardon to me often. My sister and I were about as opposite as two people
could be. She was born a forty year old puritan and I was born looking
for the loop holes. I admire my sister's moral compass. It's made of
titanium. Mine has improved greatly but daddy had to wear out the words "
i forgive you" with me.
My parents drove me around listening to NSYNC and Hanson. They took
me to sleepovers, carted my friends around to church events and served
as sponsors at lock outs and church camp. They took me to Mexico my
senior year and let me bring two friends. They took Kindal and I to
Disney World and spoiled us rotten. They have blessed us with new cars,
they have stayed up all night helping us move in, move out, paint,
decorate, organize garage sales and so much more. When I was a nanny for
my first full time family, they invested in the lives of the children I
was caring for. We went to Merritt's at least once a week for "
pupcakes" as the sweet baby girl who stole my heart called them. We went
to movies and the zoo. We met for lunch and my parents always bought
them Christmas and Birthday gifts. We I think of my parents becoming
grandparents, it makes me cry. It brings me so much joy. I know my kids
will learn from them, laugh with them and probably get a book crate.
I like writing out my thoughts to my kids. You should do it too.
When you do get pregnant, or adopt, or both, you'll be glad you did.
They can read it and see how much you wanted them.
To my baby(ies)
Hold on to your pants, or diapers, because when you I get to you,
you will get your pants, or diapers spoiled off by your Gigi and Poppy.
You'll play games, and bake cookies and dance and laugh and go see the
movie in 3D because Poppy's paying and mommy isn't giving up her right
arm for plastic glasses. We'll sit on their back porch and watch the
nice delivery men set up the ferris wheel and then we'll eat pupcakes
from Merritt's and take turns riding it and I'll tell you all about when
I was little and about how I met your daddy and we fell in love and got
married and started trying to find you. It'll be good. You just wait.
Ask Poppy for anything, you'll get it. Gigi too, and if they ever take
you to incredible pizza, don't hide from Gigi when she calls for you.
She gets really mad and you'll get a spanking. I know. There was an
incident at Showbiz pizza when I was little. It didn't end well for me
and she doesn't think it's funny. Like at all.
We Press On,
LB
Sunday, September 30, 2012
the view from the throne
Today is my birthday. I am another year older, wiser (hopefully) and I am certainly stronger. I have been dreading this day all year. I have felt at times, that maybe my fear of this day made me weak. That maybe you would be disappointed in me if you knew how scared I was on September 29. I was unsure of how I would feel today. I was afraid that all the hurt, sorrow as emptiness would come rushing back and I would be a fraud to you. I write constantly about the healing that has taken place in my life and it is a fact that I have been healed. Healing, however, is a process. When you fall down ad scrape your knee, I mean really bang it up good, the wound heals in stages. It starts out really ugly. It's bloody and raw and it stings and aches. It's a constant reminder of the trauma you've suffered. Time passes and you see new skin, pink and healthy and there is hope. You're being made new. Finally, the wound closes and you're left with a scar. You're healed, no longer bleeding, no longer feeling the constant ache, but every now and then you look down and you remember what you've been through, what you have survived. You're healed, but you're not exactly the same. That's how I feel today. I am reminded today of a dark time. A time when I thought I'd never see " pink skin" underneath the ugly. I remember the loss, I remember the sting but more importantly, I remember the healing and ultimately the healer who brought it. Looking back on this year I have seen God do incredible things. I have heard his voice. I have felt his touch. I have experienced his goodness and I have been satisfied simply because he is exactly who he says he is. I don't fly often, but a few months ago I took a flight from Dallas to Tulsa. It's a quick flight. You've just buckled your seat belt and then you land. As we pulled off the runway, I saw the city of Dallas slowly disappear beneath me. The buildings that we look at and say " that's huge" became nothing but specks. The things that we've spent millions of dollars on soon reveal themselves for what they really are, nothing in contrast with what God has created. Tiny. Insignificant. Humble. The things that we look at and say " that's really something" look like children's play toys once you get up above them. God's perspective is much the same. He sees the big picture. He looks at what we've made, what we consider the " biggest and the best" and I can't help but wonder if he shakes his head as he overlooks the vastness of his own creation in comparison to the few things we have fashioned together. I have questioned the Father intensely over the loss of our child. I told him he couldn't use it for good. I didn't see what he saw. I couldn't see the view from the throne . He saw my turmoil and knew that it would be used to glorify him. He's still writing my story. He's not finished yet. To my baby girl. I miss you more today than I ever have. I wish you could have been there last night at my party. I wish I could have woken up to your cooing today, but I believe you know my Father very well. You've been sitting in his lap this whole time. We love you, we miss you..... We press on..... LB
Saturday, September 22, 2012
mourning into dancing
It's an odd thing to have a heavy heart and a heart full of joy all at the same time. That sentence doesn't make sense and I know it. Let me explain. Since starting this Blog, my life has changed. I get countless e mails daily from women who are hurting, mourning, struggling and desperate to " make sense" of what has happened to them. This isn't how they pictured it. They all describe the same perfect little "white picket fence"scenario to me. " I thought we'd start trying and have babies just like that." " I thought I'd be a mom by 25....by 27....by 30.... by 35" " I've tried every trick, every tip, I've tried everything." "I thought I'd be done having children by this point in my life, not still trying to have my first." The white picket fence begins to chip and fade.... the plans we made for our life begin to reveal a terrible flaw... it was never really about OUR plans. It was never really in our control. That's the beautiful and frustrating thing about creating life, it's intricate, it's detailed, and it's rare my friends. People sleep together every day and yet every encounter does not result in life. Conception requires the right timing, it requires a multitude of things to " go right" and it doesn' allow much time for things to fall into place. Even after conception, there is no guarantee. Being knit together in your mother's womb, woven and spun into a living, breathing human being is no easy task. When I went to my Dr after I lost the baby, she informed me that roughly 30 percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage and that that number does not include eggs that have been fertilized but fail to implant. Some studies show that 1 in 3 pregnancies will end in miscarriage. I was shocked. How could I not know this? I couldn't think of anyone I knew who had lost a baby.... that would change. The burden of this blog and the blessing all in the same breath is that I get to hear your stories. I am honored, humbled and quite frankly in awe of the fact that God allows me to do that... that he allows me to listen to you, pray for you and minister to you. I could not think of a more unworthy woman, yet here I am, being used, and it is more than I ever hoped for. Each story of loss challenges me. It encourages me to " keep pressing on", to stay in the Word, to be humble and open and honest. Each story tests me because I have to run to the Father and say " what about this sister? She's hurting, she needs you. Restore her, renew her, reveal your goodness to her." I have to continually put down the question " why?" and instead pick up the question " how". " How will you use this Lord?" because I know that He will. I am living proof. Your stories make my heart heavy, but I am glad to carry them with you. Your stories also bring me immense joy. I met a woman at work yesterday who casually mentioned she was pregnant with her second child. We got to talking and she explained the the birth of her first daughter was a miracle, long suffered and that the journey was paved with loss. She miscarried multiple times before having her first healthy child. She and her husband have been trying for 5 years to have another baby and they had really given up. She started feeling sick, tired, moody.... could it be? Her 7 year old daughter will be a big sister at last. Be in prayer for her. Once you've lost a child, the joy of pregnancy is always tainted by the fear of loss. We know that God did not give us a spirit of fear. She knows that too and she faithfully trusts God no matter the outcome. I'm believing I'll be cuddling her new baby in a few short months. Every day God introduces me to women who prayed, just like Hannah in the Bible, for a child, and in His own timing, he delivered. (They delivered too, see what I did there? Clever, clever girl.) Every day I read emails and messages that confirm two things. 1. Women need to know that they are not alone in this. They need to know that there is a God who knows their hurts and cares for them and that when he tells them to cast ALL their cares on Him, he means it. 2. God is faithfully fulfilling his promises to his children EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It may not be when you wanted it, how you imagined it or even as easy as you thought it would be, but He is faithful. He is so many things to me. He is my Father, my defender, my creator, my deliverer, my Hosanna, my King and in the last year he has most certainly been my source of comfort and ever present help in times of trouble.
One of my favorite books of the Bible is Psalm. The book of Psalm was written mostly by King David. I love David because he is a hot mess and royally ( pun intended, see what I did there?) screwed up and yet God still calls him " a man after his own heart". David lusted, committed adultery, committed murder and still he is a central character of the Bible and was used mightily by
God. That shouldn't bother you, by the way, that God used David. God makes it habit to use people that are completely under qualified, unworthy and even at times unlikeable. That's good news for you and for me... and for mankind in general. Psalm 34:17-22 is a passage of scripture that speaks to me deeply. It's really beautiful and perfectly describes the "nearness" of the Father to his children.
17. When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears them and delivers them out of all of their troubles. ( if you can get past " the Lord hears them" with out being in awe of the fact that the sovereign, most holy God is listening to us ... well, I don't know how to help you, AND THEN IT GETS REALLY GOOD... he delivers them out of all.... ALL... of their troubles.)
18. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and he saves the crushed in spirit. ( This is beautiful and speaks for itself. The crushed in spirit. There is no better description for how I felt on 9/30/2011. Crushed.)
Skipping to V. 20 He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken ( how can you be crushed but not one bone broken? Meet my Father, you'll see)
V.22 The Lord redeems the life of his servants: non who take refuge in him will be condemned.
Psalm 30:2-7
V. 2 O Lord my God, I cried to you for help and you have healed me
V. 3 .... you restored me to life
V.5.... weeping may last for the night, but JOY comes in the morning.
V. 7. By your favor O Lord, you made mountains stand strong
I love V. 7. " you made mountains stand strong"... I'm glad my life is in the hands of the one who makes the mountains stand.... that's legit.
Psalm 30:11-12
V.11 You have turned my mourning into dancing.
Dancing is just about the most joyful expression of freedom I can think of. I imagine little kids, completely uninhibited, just dancing and laughing and I think that that is exactly what David had in mind too. The jump from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. The total freedom and joy in any circumstance brought only from the Father. Taking you from weeping, to just jumping and dancing with joy. V. 12 that my glory may sing YOUR praise and not be silent. I will give thanks to you forever.
Today's post is for the broken hearted. The one who can't see beyond the immense pain, the one who can not see any good in this, the one who is crushed in spirit. It's for the one who aches for a child, the one who has cried too many tears to count. It's for the one who thinks they'll never dance again. You will.... he'll turn your mourning into dancing... it's just what He does.
We press on,
LB
One of my favorite books of the Bible is Psalm. The book of Psalm was written mostly by King David. I love David because he is a hot mess and royally ( pun intended, see what I did there?) screwed up and yet God still calls him " a man after his own heart". David lusted, committed adultery, committed murder and still he is a central character of the Bible and was used mightily by
God. That shouldn't bother you, by the way, that God used David. God makes it habit to use people that are completely under qualified, unworthy and even at times unlikeable. That's good news for you and for me... and for mankind in general. Psalm 34:17-22 is a passage of scripture that speaks to me deeply. It's really beautiful and perfectly describes the "nearness" of the Father to his children.
17. When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears them and delivers them out of all of their troubles. ( if you can get past " the Lord hears them" with out being in awe of the fact that the sovereign, most holy God is listening to us ... well, I don't know how to help you, AND THEN IT GETS REALLY GOOD... he delivers them out of all.... ALL... of their troubles.)
18. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and he saves the crushed in spirit. ( This is beautiful and speaks for itself. The crushed in spirit. There is no better description for how I felt on 9/30/2011. Crushed.)
Skipping to V. 20 He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken ( how can you be crushed but not one bone broken? Meet my Father, you'll see)
V.22 The Lord redeems the life of his servants: non who take refuge in him will be condemned.
Psalm 30:2-7
V. 2 O Lord my God, I cried to you for help and you have healed me
V. 3 .... you restored me to life
V.5.... weeping may last for the night, but JOY comes in the morning.
V. 7. By your favor O Lord, you made mountains stand strong
I love V. 7. " you made mountains stand strong"... I'm glad my life is in the hands of the one who makes the mountains stand.... that's legit.
Psalm 30:11-12
V.11 You have turned my mourning into dancing.
Dancing is just about the most joyful expression of freedom I can think of. I imagine little kids, completely uninhibited, just dancing and laughing and I think that that is exactly what David had in mind too. The jump from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. The total freedom and joy in any circumstance brought only from the Father. Taking you from weeping, to just jumping and dancing with joy. V. 12 that my glory may sing YOUR praise and not be silent. I will give thanks to you forever.
Today's post is for the broken hearted. The one who can't see beyond the immense pain, the one who can not see any good in this, the one who is crushed in spirit. It's for the one who aches for a child, the one who has cried too many tears to count. It's for the one who thinks they'll never dance again. You will.... he'll turn your mourning into dancing... it's just what He does.
We press on,
LB
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