Justice Button

I am having a crummy day. Not because of anything earth-shattering. Just because. I stepped on the scale for weigh in this morning and found I have gained half a pound this week. That's not the direction I want the scale to go (but it's what happens when you go out for pizza and ice cream in one night and then go to a women's function at church that is catered by Panera and is delicious!) Then I took my kids to the dentist and neither one of them were as cooperative as I would like. We proceeded to Target so I could pick up a prescription, only to find that the prescription I needed filled is OUT of refills. The reason it is out of refills is because the doctor's appointment I had scheduled for last month (the one where my doctor would have refilled my prescription for another year, because that's the kind of thing they do at a woman's yearly appointment) was canceled because my doctor called in sick. Because I had only gone to Target for the sole purpose of running in the pick up the prescription, I did not put my kids in a cart. I decided I would let them walk. I'm a dummy. In general I have well behaved children. I can't complain. They are fairly compliant. They have there moments just like all toddlers do, however, and today they both decided to have their moments in Target. By the time I left I was ready to wring both of their necks.

So my morning was off to a great start when I walked out to my car and saw a gigantic SUV (I drive a fairly big SUV myself. This one was bigger) parked over the line, in my parking space, leaving me about 12 inches on my driver's side for me to get Elijah into his car seat and myself into the driver's seat. Yeah, right. I slowly opened the car door and carefully placed it on the door of the car next to me. I knew there was no way to avoid bumping them. I might as well try to make it as gentle as possible. Elijah climbed into his seat and I wedged myself in between the door and the car seat to buckle him in.

That's when she showed up. The owner of the SUV. From behind me I hear "Your car door is totally banging into the side of my car!"

I whipped around and laid into her with all the frustration that had been building up in me for the whole morning. I pointed out how poorly her car was parked and how I had been extra careful not to damage it even though she had left me no room to work in. I didn't use any profanities or call her any names, but my voice was dripping with venom and my face was snarling at her, I'm sure.

I went back to buckling Elijah in, still fuming. Then God graciously reminded me that I have a Jesus fish on the back of my car. The back of my car that she was currently standing and looking at. She may not have even noticed, but I was instantly overwhelmed with shame. I am wearing the name of Jesus publicly and loudly and I had just embarrassed Him with my behavior.

I have a very large "Justice Button", as my pastor would call it. I don't take it lightly when I feel I have been wronged. It is against my nature in the flesh to sit quietly when something isn't fair. God has a large "Justice Button", too. Fortunately for all of us, His "Mercy Button" is just as big (if not bigger). Unfortunately for the woman in the parking lot this morning, my "Mercy Button" is occasionally microscopic.

Praise God that His power is perfect in my weakness. Before we drove our separate ways, I was able to look at the woman and tell her that I was sorry. I asked her to forgive my outburst and explained that I had had a rough morning. She was gracious and kind. We parted friendly and even shared a laugh about how tough being a mom can be sometimes. She didn't say this, but she might have had a tough morning, too. She may have snapped at me because she gained a pound this morning, also. I'll never know. What I do know is that God reminded me that my behavior should never be determined by someone else's. It should be determined by who I am and who I represent.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Read more...

Journal Keeping

This blog isn't often very silly. Not because I don't love to be silly, because I do. Believe me. There is nothing I love more than to laugh my head off. This blog most often ends up being almost a journal of sorts. A place where I can share a thought or two that has been rolling around in my heart. It's nice to have. The truth is, I had forgotten how many times I've already spilled my guts on the internet for all the world to see (and by "all the world" I mean the 4 of you that read my blog). As I've been turning over this new bloggy leaf this week, attempting to get back in the saddle, I have been looking over past posts. I wanted to remind myself of what I've done this past 10-11 months. I was really surprised. I had forgotten so many things I had written and so many things that I had felt. It was nice to have them documented. For instance, I am looking forward to starting a new season of VBS for the summer. Looking back at posts I had written about it last year reminded me of what an amazing ministry it is. It's also been wonderful to go back and remember friends and family and things they've done that have touched me enough to be recorded for posterity. Looking back at the times I have seen God move has been exhilarating. Looking back at the times I didn't see Him move the way I wanted to and then pouted about it was humbling.

I love having a blog. Even if no one in the world ever pays any attention to it but me, I can honestly say, looking back, that it is valuable. A spiritual discipline that I have always been lacking and yet always wanted to do is journaling. I have just in the last month started a journal. At least that's what I thought. Looking back over this blog, I'm realizing that I have been journaling all this time. I just didn't know it. Thanks for listening. I hope you don't mind if I continue.

Read more...

Ripping off the Diaper

One of my earliest memories in life was sitting on the floor of my parent's bedroom one afternoon, doodling in a phone book as my mom and dad called every toy retailer in the greater metropolitan area in which we lived, searching for a He-Man action figure. I don't remember which characters we already had hanging from the ceiling of our bathroom, but I know that they could not seem to get their hands on He-Man himself. I know that Masters of the Universe sounds like an inspired decorating choice for anyone in the early 80's, but this had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with potty training my brother. He was being bribed with members of the Grayskull Universe, and my parents were hoping to nab the leader of the crew as the ultimate prize for Kevin once he mastered his potty universe. (This story is so legendary in our family that Mark and I wrapped up The He-Man and She-Ra Christmas Special for Kevin under the tree this last December but demanded that before he watched it, he had to go use the big boy potty.)

(Kevin has got to be loving this right about now)

My parent's struggle to potty train my brother had the unfortunate side effect of terrifying me of the prospect of training my own children. I remember how difficult it was and was certain I was facing the same process. Shortly after I became a mother, my mom and I were garage sale hopping and I spotted a dusty old book that sounded promising. Something about potty training in only one day. I decided it was worth the fifty cents to see if there was anything to it. Eying my find, my mom declared "Hey! I had that book when I was potty training your brother!", at which point I dropped that book like it was hot. No thank you.

Fast forward a couple of years to a few months ago when Mark and I were finally ready to embark on the journey. Well, maybe not ready, but we had put it off long enough. We went to the library, checked out the "potty kit" for boys, which came complete with "Everyone Poops". The kit also had a book for me. A book which only further convinced me that I would never be able to do this. I envisioned accident upon accident and frustration upon frustration. When Elijah came down with a cold shortly after we started the process, I was more than happy to cling to that as an excuse to put it off some more.

Easter came and we decided to put 'Big Boy Underwear' in Elijah's Easter basket. Determined to capitalize on his excitement, we officially started the process the following weekend. We had already had the blessing of gleaning tips from friends who had gone down this road before us, and the general consensus was that Pull-Ups, aside from nighttime, were a bad idea. They were a crutch and the best thing to do was to "rip off the band-aid (or in this case, the diaper)". I was sure this doomed me to ridiculous amounts of laundry and the rental of a carpet steamer, but we went ahead with the plan. As of Saturday morning, Elijah would no longer be wearing diapers. Period.

And guess what? He's potty trained. And he has been since that first Saturday. Believe me when I tell you that it has nothing to do with anything I've done that he was so easy. I had tried every thing I could to make the process harder than it had to be. If Elijah had listened to me (or at least the thoughts in my head), he would still be wetting his pants during church. Fortunately, he had his own agenda. He wanted to be a big boy and wanted to be done with diapers. He thought it was great fun and was more than willing to comply. I had been so certain that it had to be a difficult process that I have been unwilling to actually call him officially potty-trained. I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the novelty to wear off and the ugliness to begin. But it's been three weeks. And he has had less accidents than I would need only one hand to count. So I'm finally ready to announce to the world, with enormous relief, that I have potty trained my first son!!!! And it was pretty painless!!!

(now I've done it....he's going to wet his pants while I'm at Bible study in the morning, isn't he.....?)

Read more...

Sephora

I love being a girl. I take great joy in getting dressed up and made up and bejeweled for a fun outing. Unfortunately, because I have a 3 year-old and a 19 month-old, those types of outings aren't as frequent as they once were. I only put on make-up at all 3-4 times a week (if that) and if you came to my door on a Wednesday afternoon or ran into me at Target, you would catch me in my yoga pants (not because I do yoga) or khakis and some sort of T-shirt. I think Oprah would call me a 'shlumpadinka'. But given the opportunity to get dolled up...I will jump at the chance. This is why I love Sephora. As my friend Gina would say....it's my "mother-ship". If someone dropped me at the mall with a thousand dollars and told me I was not allowed to spend it on my kids, I would spend most (if not all of it) at Sephora. Unfortunately, no one has done that lately, so my Sephora purchases are all splurges and not usually in the budget. As much as I love Sephora, I all too often leave there feeling guilty.

I also love American Idol (trust me....this is all going to come together). I am a die-hard fan who watches from the earliest, most painful, audition episodes, all the way to the finale, where I vote like a crazy person for whoever I have decided is worthy. The last two seasons (for those of you who live under a rock), AI has done a little show they call "Idol Gives Back", where they use the magnitude of their viewer-ship to raise money for a host of worthy charitable organizations. I haven't heard the final tallies from this year, but last year they raised $72 million! As God would have it, the same week Idol was giving back, I was signed up to pray for a team of friends from church who were ministering in the Sudan for 10 days. So for 5 days I was bombarded with images and thoughts and prayers for people in Africa and other third-world countries for whom clothing, food and clean water were splurges, let alone some fabulous new eye shadow from Sephora. I was mercifully convicted and forced to realize the fact that compared to most of the world, I live in the lap of luxury. I desperately wanted to DO something, but as I looked in the faces of the starving children who live half a world a way, I was overwhelmed. Anything I was capable of doing would be such a drop in the bucket, it felt insignificant. Yet I couldn't do nothing.

So I prayed some more and I was reminded of all the wonderful, Christ-centered organizations that allow us to "adopt" children in other countries. By giving them a VERY nominal amount of money, we can provide for the physical, educational and spiritual needs of a child, therefore changing their entire lives. I wandered onto Compassion International's website to browse. Because I had been praying for the Sudan, I was really looking for a child in Africa, but was open. I didn't know what I was looking for. All of the children were worthy and special, I could have done "eenie-meenie-mynie-moe" and it would have been fine. Then I saw her.

Her name is Sephora, and she lives in Haiti. Because of her name, I had to click on her picture to find out more. When I did, I began to cry. She was born on June 16, 2004. Before Mark and I ever had Elijah and Micah, we were pregnant and miscarried a baby whose due date was June 16, 2004. Praise the Lord! Not only had he convicted me and inspired me to give, He blessed me with absolute certainty that this was the child we were supposed to care for. She was hand picked for us by the God of the Universe. So now, instead of spending money AT Sephora, I get to spend money ON Sephora, my sweet Haitian girl.

I have added a new link to Compassion on my sidebar. For those of you who are unfamiliar, please go and visit them. It is a miracle to think that the amount I would spend on a jar of Pink Grapefruit Body Butter can feed, clothe and educate a child for a whole month. The best part of all is that Compassion will also introduce the children they reach to Jesus. By giving to Compassion, you are not only caring for a child here on this earth, but for eternity, as well. If you have $32 a month burning a hole in your pocket (and even if you don't) please go change the life of a child. I promise you won't regret it!

James 1:27
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world

Read more...

Spring Beginnings

So I've been MIA from my blog AGAIN for far too long. It's a vicious circle. Life keeps me away for longer than I'd like and then I feel too guilty about how long I've been absent to write anything, so even more time goes by.

Tonight my bloggy friend Rachel over at A Heart Assessment inspired me to try and get back on the blogging horse. She has a new blog template and linked to the site she received it from. For FREE. So I decided that was just what I needed to get excited about my blog again. Breathe some life into it. You'll notice that there is a lot missing from my sidebar. Over the next few days, some of them will make their way back and some of them won't. I also may not stick with this particular template. We'll see. This made me feel happy and springy, though, so for now it will do the trick.

Thanks, Rachel for the tip!

Read more...