Victory

As Christians, we have a lot of "churchy" words that we use on a regular basis that the general population probably doesn't. This past Sunday, our pastor spoke on building community and how we call that "fellowship". We throw words around like "blessed" and "glorified", knowing that our fellow "believers" (there's another one!) will know what we mean. We have our own culture of faith and so it has it's own vernacular.

Currently my favorite new word is "Victory". I'm sure this is due in no small part to the fact that I am on my third Beth Moore study in the last 12 months. She loves this word and I have to say....I love it, too. It has a power to it that inspires a drive to compete. I am no longer just trying to be "successful"....I'm striving to be victorious!

The definition of Victory is: a success or triumph over and enemy in battle or war, the ultimate and decisive superiority in any battle or contest. I don't know about you, but there are sins that I struggle with that feel like an absolute total war with an enemy. And they are. There are battles for my time and energy that require resolve on my part in order that I not give in to laziness or apathy. Victory is the perfect word to describe how I feel when I wake up early enough in the morning to have my quiet time before the kids have stirred. Victory is the perfect word to describe how I feel when I have chosen to have oatmeal and fruit for breakfast instead of cinnamon rolls. Victory is the perfect word for when I have gotten everything done on my "To Do" list. Victory is the perfect word to describe when I have made a home-made meal for dinner every night in a week and not submitted to the temptation of Taco Bell. Victory is the perfect word for when I have chosen to bite my tongue, instead of being gossipy or judgemental.

Victory is the perfect word because those things require real effort on my part. Victory is also the perfect word because there is so much at stake. While any one of those things may seem minor, they are areas that if I let them, could become footholds for Satan to use to make me less effective. When I am hurtful or negative, when I am lazy or selfish, I am not giving glory to God. Victory is also the perfect word because I could never accomplish them without the One who has "ultimate and decisive superiority in any battle or contest". Doesn't that just sound like Jesus? It makes my heart swell to know that He is on my side. Every battle I face, whether it be large or small, I have the One True Victor helping me, supporting me and spurring me on. I love it! To call Jesus successful is the understatement of the century. He is victorious over sin, over death and over evil. And because we are His, we get to be victorious, too! Let's pray for each other.....that we would look to Jesus and find our Victory!

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Tearing Down the Idols

This morning during my quiet time I was hit with something so hard I just had to share it. I was doing my "Breaking Free" homework. We are in the first week, and we are starting with a little history. Our focus during this study is in the book of Isaiah, and to make sure we understand the context in which he is writing, Beth is taking us through a brief recap of the kings who reigned during Isaiah's life and what sort of influence they had on him and on Israel (Judah). Today my study was on a king named Ahaz, son of Jotham. Both Ahaz's father and grandfather were kings who, to some degree, sought the Lord. They both had failures and were by no means perfect, but their foundation was in a faith in God. Ahaz did not have such a faith. He worshiped pagan gods and sacrificed his own children (yes, you read that right) upon altars in the high places. Because of this defiance, God allowed his kingdom to be defeated and his people to be exiled. In short, Ahaz worshiped idols instead of God and he was a failure as a king.

Here is the part that struck me. This is what 2 Kings 15:34-35a says about Ahaz's father, King Jotham:

Jotham did everything that was pleasing in the Lord's sight. He did everything his father, Uzziah, had done. But he did not destroy the pagan shrines and the people still offered sacrifices and burned incense there.

Despite the fact that Jotham strived to be a godly man and king, he made a fatal error that ended up being the destruction of his son. He did not tear down the idols. Even though he did not worship them himself or condone the worship of them, he left them up for others to worship and that eventually included his own boy. Ahaz is and was accountable for his own actions, but in what way could his father have helped to spare him the mistakes he made by creating an idol-free environment for him to be raised in?

What idols am I leaving up for my children? Am I exposing my children to things that could become areas of worship for them above and beyond our God? Are there areas in my life where I am misplacing my worship? This morning I can't tell you the answers to these questions. I don't know. What I do know is that I have a renewed sense of responsibility towards my boys. Someday they will be responsible and accountable for their own actions. Until that time, I want to do everything I can to make sure that I am tearing down the idols that could snare them. This is my prayer.

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PINK!!

I know I have mentioned on several occasions that although I love my boys, I have missed the pink. Well, here is my chance. In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Dyson has come up with a pretty PINK vacuum cleaner and 5 Minutes for Mom is giving one away!! Go ahead and enter the contest, too, and may the one with the dirtiest floors win!

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My joy

This morning was the first morning back of our Women's Bible Study for the Fall. I have been looking forward to it for weeks, counting the days. In one group of women I have the sweetest friends and the most amazing mentors. I am truly blessed. We are studying Beth Moore's Breaking Free and my excitement is beyond words. This is not my first study of hers and God has always used her to push me forward. I have a love of Scripture that has very much to do with her exposing me to new ways of studying it.

This morning was like a breath of fresh air. Even though I had seen many of these women on multiple occasions over the summer, it was good to finally be together again for the mutual purposes of studying God's Word, praying for one another and building relationship. To be around these women is to truly know what Paul meant in Philippians when he talks about his friends "being his joy". God blesses us with joy through our friendships. I had even had the privilege of meeting a new friend over the summer who came this morning and brought her sister.

God is good. He blesses me with joy through so many sources. I have an amazing husband, beautiful children, tremendous family and wonderful friends. Too often I find myself counting the things I go without instead of my blessings. I was reminded this morning of how fortunate I am. I am loved by so many and get to love so many in return. I get to study God's word and embark on a journey to being more free and liberated in Christ. The God of the Universe has called me to be a mighty warrior and to have victory over sin. It is my legacy in Christ that I will inherit His Kingdom and live eternally. I may not always be able to be happy, but I should only ever be joyful.

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The one in which I join the 21st Century

I've already mentioned in previous posts that September is a meaningful month in our family. This weekend we celebrated a couple of the important events that have occurred this week in years past. On Friday, Mark and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary. It's the most unusual phenomena...the realization that it's "already" been 5 years at the same time you're realizing it's "only" been 5 years. Being married and being a mom is such a large part of who I am, it's hard to remember that I existed before. I know that it's tradition on these mom-blogs to write long, loving posts to your husbands on anniversaries and birthdays, but that would be silly for me to do because Mark doesn't read my blog. I know what you're saying....Micah doesn't read my blog either, but that's different. I was sharing with you my love for my son and what that has meant to me spiritually. Anything I have to say to my husband is between he and I. Plus, I am not big on PDA.

We also celebrated my birthday this weekend, which is actually today. I keep forgetting that it's today, because I've already celebrated it. I am 32 years old today. That's an interesting number to realize, too. Age doesn't bother me at all (so far), but it is a surreal feeling to know that I'm creeping into my 30's instead of just being barely in my 30's. I hope that made sense. I guess it's just that being in your 30's means that you are a for-real, no-way-around-it, no-more-excuses adult. I better get my act together.

Part of my birthday celebration was my new iPod (thank you, Aunt Maureen, Grandma and Uncle Jeff!). I am already addicted. It is so fun to be able to pull up nearly any song that I have ever loved in my life and be able to have it to listen to whenever, without having to buy an entire album. It's also wonderful to know that I can listen to pod casts without having to sit in front of my computer. I now feel like I am an official a member of the 21st Century. I felt like the only person alive (except my parents) without an iPod. I now know what all the fuss was about. I also now know why people are curious to see what other people have on their iPods. I can't believe how random the list of songs I have downloaded already are. I have everything from Rich Mullins to Kelly Clarkson to Dionne Warwick.

So that was my weekend, and it's what kept me from posting any mind-blowing profundities (like this piece of mediocrity) for the last few days. Hopefully I'll be able to pull myself away from iTunes for a few minutes soon enough to put together some sort of interesting post. In the meantime....tell me what's on your iPod......I'm dying to know!

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Pooh's Face

My parents have been really good about setting up a home away from home at their house for my boys. They have their own beds, their own booster chairs, their own toys, cups, binkies....you name it. This makes going to visit grandma and papa very easy, especially when mommy has to drop one of them off while taking the other to the doctor, which I will be doing tomorrow. I don't have to pack up half my house. One of the ways my mom achieved this was to take advantage of garage sales for toys. One of the toys she "scored" early on after Elijah learned to walk was a Pooh Bear that was shaped like a rocking horse. He was stuffed, but you could sit on him and rock, and when you pressed his ear, he talked and played music, alternately. We thought it was fantastic. Elijah was terrified of him. I mean he would NOT be in the same room with Pooh if he could avoid it, and if he could not avoid it, he would stick close to mom or dad and whimper. He did not like Pooh.

This was such a shame to all of us, because this was such a cute toy....we wanted him to like it! Every time we'd go to grandma and papa's, we'd pull out Pooh and try and coax Elijah over to him, but he would have none of it. One day, after weeks (maybe even months) of this, we decided we were going to "rip off the band-aid", so to speak, and just put him on Pooh to show him there was nothing to be afraid of. He screamed and kicked and I really regretted trying things that way....I was sure we had just traumatized our child for life. I could just see him in a few years on Dr. Phil..."They forced me to ride on the Pooh Bear!" But funny enough, it worked! He was red-faced, and tear-stained, but he sat on Pooh's back, held onto the handles, and looked up at me with a sheepish grin of realization. Pooh wasn't so bad after all!

In fact, Pooh was so great that he became all he would talk about after that! He had overcome his fear! We would be in stores and anything with Pooh on it would be pointed at with glee (do you know how much Pooh bear stuff there is out there? Just try going to Target sometime and keep count....you'll lose track pretty quick, I imagine!). He was now enthralled with all things Winnie.

When Micah was about ready to join us last year, we decided we would give Elijah a stuffed Pooh "from" his new brother Micah. Elijah then "gave" Micah a stuffed Tigger. We were starting things off teaching them they were buddies, just like Tigger and Pooh. Elijah latched on to Pooh and has never let go. Since that time, there have been other characters that have crept into Elijah's heart....Mickey Mouse, Little Einsteins, Max & Ruby....but every night, when he goes to bed, he sleeps with the Pooh Bear his brother gave him in the hospital.

In the past year, I have picked up Pooh Bear 100 times from 100 different places, washed vomit off of him, put his shirt back on, and tucked him in every night. I hadn't looked at him very closely, though, until tonight. I don't know why I did. I was just sitting on the couch, watching my kids play, and Elijah had given me Pooh to keep safe from his brother. Pooh is showing signs of age. No one would notice from a distance, but the fur around his mouth and nose is no longer fluffy. It's matted down smooth. His eyes are barely visible for all the fuzz that's developed around them, and his t-shirt is stretched to the limit, because my son loops his arm through it every night as he sleeps. Pooh is getting older. That means my boy is, too.

Obviously, I know that my boys are growing. I see them learning new things and outgrowing their clothes. I know they aren't babies anymore. But because I am so close to them, and it happens so gradually, I think I have had a hard time seeing how much time has actually passed. How old they actually are. I saw it in Pooh Bear tonight. My son is old enough to have a bear that is wearing out. He's not a baby anymore.

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Black Friday

I spent the better part of my high school career and the years just after high school working in a mall. I worked in two stores specifically, one being an Orange Julius and the other was a video retailer, where I was management. I look back on those years with great fondness. I made a lot of friends, some of whom I am still friends with to this day, and I had a lot of fun! My favorite time of year, hands-down, was the 6 weeks between Thanksgiving and the end of the year. The time went by so quickly, because we were always so busy, and people would buy just about anything we were selling (being in management, seeing those big holiday numbers was quite a high!). Most of the customers were in great spirits....looking forward to the holidays and buying things for loved ones. The ones who weren't in a good mood became a challenge. It became our job to put them in a good mood before they left our store, and often times we were successful. The Christmas carols were playing, the decorations were everywhere, and being a part of the hustle and bustle was a joy!

Fast forward a few years and you could not pay me enough to face those crowds. I am older and have far less energy. My girlfriend, Jonna, wakes up every year on Black Friday and heads out the door by 6 am to get all the good deals. Every year she invites me to go and every year I tell her she has lost her mind. She swears I am missing out on the best deals of the season by not going with her, and until today, she may have been right. That is no longer true, however, because I now have a secret weapon! It's called blackfriday and it is awesome! It gives you advanced info on what's going to be in the sale ads the day after Thanksgiving for stores like Toys R Us, Target and Kohls! The site also allows you to purchase those items from the site at the discount, instead of having to wait in line at the stores. I don't know about you, but after a fun-filled, late-night Thanksgiving, the last thing I want to do is be up the next day trying to fight the crowds in the parking lots and in the stores. Now I don't have to. No one to talk me into anything I don't want, no alarm clocks going off at ridiculous hours, and no driving around forever trying to park. All the deals and none of the fuss!

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Let's not just remember

I have very strong political views. Those of you who know me outside of this blog know this. I never wanted this blog to become political, so I have never spoken directly about politics, nor do I intend to. Not because I am afraid to, or because I don't think it is important. Simply because that is not the purpose of this blog.

There are some things in 2007, however, that are so important they need to be talked about as often and as loudly as people are willing. It is September 11, 2007. Six years have passed since we were attacked on our own soil in a way that was beyond imagination. Since then, young men and women have exhibited bravery beyond my comprehension. They have faced our enemies in a war that has been ugly, to say the least. Not just in Baghdad, but here at home, as well. It is a war that, no matter what side you are on politically, has been debated, torn apart, vilified, scrutinized and demonized. To be a part of this war is to be part of a firestorm of controversy. These men and women were just trying to serve their country.

So wherever you find yourself today in the political spectrum, there is something to be done. Whether you are a liberal-minded individual, whose heart is aching for those sent to the "wrong country to fight an illegal war", or a staunch conservative who wants to "honor the patriots who have protected our national security", we have a job to do. These men and women are coming home to unacceptable circumstances. When someone gives the way they have given, those of us on the receiving end of their generosity have NO CHOICE but to catch them on the other end. When they go to war and fight for our freedoms and safeties, it is our duty to make sure that their loved ones are cared for while they are away and it is our duty to make sure that they receive the best possible care physically, mentally and spiritually when they return. To do anything less is despicable.

So I am urging the few of you who read my blog to do something. Go beyond just remembering what happened on 9-11-01, but go and visit sites like Veterans of Foreign Wars, Unmet Needs, USA Cares, and America Supports You and donate your time, energy and money. If you have a blog, and even if you don't, remind others of our duties here on the home front to lift up those who are fighting our battles.

John 15:13
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends

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10:41 am

These pictures were taken at 10:41 am on September 11, 2007....exactly one year to the minute after he was born. Sitting in a T-shirt and diaper, banana in his hair, chewing on a toy.....that sounds about right. We know it's his birthday, but to him....it's just another Tuesday! Happy Birthday, sweet one!

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My Sweet Boy

"Are you kidding me?!"

Those were the first words I said after seeing the results of my pregnancy test, a mere 10 months after giving birth to Elijah. I had no intention of having another child so soon. We had, in fact, been trying NOT to. (God is truly the opener and closer of the womb. Don't kid yourselves, ladies.) In the short time since we were blessed with our first son, Mark and I had turned our lives upside-down. I had quit a job, Mark had lost a job and started a new job. We had sold a car and were driving around in our tiny little Tercel, because it was paid for. We had finally streamlined the bills to a place that we thought maybe we could take a breath. That was not meant to be. We were going to have another baby.

It didn't take long to come to terms with another pregnancy. I just happily lived in a land of delusion where I would get to have my little girl. This seemed to make it all the more tolerable. To be able to buy pink and have bows and dolls and frills around the house made the pregnancy all worth while, in my mind. But alas, that was not meant to be, either. We were going to have another little boy.

That was OK, too, though, because everyone told me how since they were so close in age and both boys they would be "buds"....the best of friends. Not to mention the money I would save on clothes. This was going to be OK. We were going to have a baby, he was going to be a boy, and his name would be Micah David.

On September 11, 2006, we dropped Elijah off at my parents house and drove to the hospital for my second C-section. It was different this time. Elijah was born in early March, so when we drove in for his delivery it was dark outside. This time it was sunny. It didn't seem right. But when we got there, everything was the same as last time. A couple hours in triage, fretting about my spinal, a long, surreal walk down the hall to the operating room, an uncomfortable spinal as I gripped the hand of my OB, and a surgery that was over in flash. He was here.

Part of the reason that I didn't think I could have another baby so soon was because I couldn't imagine being able to love him as much as I loved Elijah. There just couldn't possibly be room in my heart for so much love. And pain. The love I experienced as a parent was the most exhilarating, excruciating emotion I had ever known. The extraordinary blessing of this sweet, precious soul, yet the absolute terror of ever having to be apart from him, or ever doing anything to harm him, was almost too much to bear sometimes. And now I would have two. Surely my heart would burst from all that it would be trying to contain.

And you know what? It did.

It burst and overflowed into every area of my life. Loving more deeply became my norm instead of my exception. I could view those around me not only for the people that they were, but I could see more clearly that they, too, were some one's son or daughter, and someone out there loved them with the same intensity I loved my children. How dare I treat them so poorly...they were some body's baby. Most importantly that love overflowed and filled up my view of God. I could finally begin to understand the love He has for us. The exhilarating, excruciating emotion that He has to bear, knowing that there are some of us that He will be eternally separated from, despite His efforts to reach us all. And the exhilarating, excruciating pain He had for His Son, the day He allowed Him to be nailed to a cross.

Thank you, Micah, for coming into my heart and causing it to burst. I will always be thankful to God that He wasn't kidding.

Happy First Birthday, My Sweet Boy!

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The Party

After much planning, Micah's party went off without a hitch. I started planning months ago, less because of the amount of time needed to prepare and more to try and spread the budget out over a couple of months. I tried to do as much as I could on the cheap, but a first birthday only comes once, and I love to throw a party. We had it at a local park that is absolutely gorgeous. This was the best possible scenario for the number of people and (especially) children that would be there. They could run and play and have a great time. We borrowed our church's blow-up bounce house and set up the bubble machine my aunt bought Elijah for Christmas, which the kids loved! I have to say every one's favorite thing seemed to be the tool-shaped squirt toys I bought for next to nothing as favors. The theme was construction, so they fit right in and I'm pretty sure the adults had more fun than the kids did. My dad and brother were ruthless and I ended up much wetter than I ever thought I would be at my son's first birthday party, but oh, well....it was so much fun and a really hot day, so it was fine.

I want to thank "publicly" the people who went above and beyond yesterday to make the party a success. It's the least I can do, considering I couldn't have done it all without you and I have no money to pay you! :) Mom and Dad....for helping to pack everything up and haul it all to the park and set everything up (even the questionable rigging of the extension cord, Dad), then clean it up and haul it all home. My awesome brother and his equally awesome girlfriend, Kayla, who picked up the balloons, hung them in ALL of the places I said I wanted them, and then went to pick up the food, including the grocery list I handed you! Kayla....you are already more of an aunt than I could ever ask for for my boys. Thank you for re-hanging balloons and tablecloths when they threatened to blow away and for walking around for a ridiculous amount of time with my son on your hip....you are a strong woman! To my dear friends Mitch and Jonna, who made the most creative, darling cake for my boy. It was perfect and delicious! What better cake to make a mess of on your first birthday than a cake that looks like dirt?! Last but not least, thanks to everyone who came! It was super fun and there were great memories made! Here are some highlights:

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Rock the Vote

OK, everyone!
Since I put up my little poll about Micah's birthday cake, there have been 187 page loads and I have 6 votes! My stat counter does not count my page loads, and I can see that lots and lots of different people have loaded the page, but NO ONE has voted!! Maybe I didn't make it clear that I wasn't only asking for the opinions of people who know me personally. Quite frankly....I can ask them to their faces. Maybe the poll was a bad idea and not something I need to do anymore. I just thought it would be fun. I may try it again sometime soon, but I want to see all your votes! Now I have to make the decision for myself.....and quite frankly, I could have done that without the poll! :)

Updated AGAIN: So I have been told by some people that there are technical difficulties with my poll and that I was out of line for chewing everyone out for not voting in a poll that doesn't work. So I am removing the polls entirely.

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September

It all started in September 1974. My parents were married that month. A year later I was born. It stayed like that for quite awhile, but 27 years later, I was married in September, and 4 years later, my youngest son was born. My brother is now seriously involved with a girl who wants a September wedding. This makes her very qualified to be a member of our family.

September is a very busy month in our home. In a lot of ways it is also my favorite. I love December, because no one loves Christmas like I do, but September is that start of the "er" months and really, it's arrival means that the holidays are on the way. (I am also shameless about the fact that I love my birthday, so that might have something to do with it, too.)

Tomorrow I will pull out all of our fall decorations and our home will be filled with pumpkins, leaves, apples and the smell of cloves. While grocery shopping yesterday, my son and I picked out an orange acorn squash that he thinks is a pumpkin (the real pumpkins were too big for him to hold), that he has carried around our home since. It was the first thing he asked for when he woke up this morning. Apparently he loves fall, too. He comes by it rightly.

This weekend we will throw the First Birthday Extravaganza for Micah that I have been planning for months. It will be the kick-off to our season of celebrations. We will celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, visit pumpkin patches, eat candy, give thanks, celebrate the birth of our Lord, and finally, the coming of a new year. And it all begins in September. Have I mentioned that I love this month?

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