when you know you are loved...

I often forget.  I get caught up... caught up in the the things of this world that don't matter and I forget those that do.  I get wrapped up in the worries of life... trying desperately to please people and I forget those who are already pleased.  I find myself struggling... attempting to make sense of the pain and disappointment of this journey and forgetting the joy that sits before me.

Sometimes I need to be reminded.  I need the reminder that I am loved... I am cherished... I am adored... by four.  And, if there were only four, that would be enough.  However, I am blessed much more than that.

I'm learning... learning to take the gifts set before me.  To take a day of rest... to park the taxi in the garage and take up a book instead.  I'm learning to set my book aside... to pick up The Boxcar Children instead.  I'm learning to rest... to take myself to bed early, if need be, so that I can be a better wife, mother, and friend.


I'm learning... anew... that I am loved by those who matter most.

~*~

joining in with the gratitude community again this week... counting the gifts that grace my days with a heart of gratitude...


for these things and many more, I am grateful...


... for Sabbath rest
... for a garage
... for finding incredible books to read at my favorite library


... for a new mug
... and Guatemalan coffee in it
.... with creme brulee creamer


... for the not so little one who still wants me to read Boxcar Children books to her
... for back rubs from smallish hands
... for giggles


... for sibling love
... for the calm of her daddy
... for protection
... for his hand and wisdom to put her back together again


... for a day as a family
... for the joy of being together
... knowing my family wants to be with me


... for the peace of knowing a mother is celebrating in heaven
... for prayer for her family
... for a celebration of her life yesterday


... for a God who always sees
... and always knows
... and never fails to love completely

what gifts has He bestowed on you this week?

join us in counting 1000 gifts and beyond!

team of two on GratiTuesday...

A week ago, we celebrated our eighteenth wedding anniversary... nothing fancy, just lunch out at an authentic taco stand.  The fact that he had returned to home the night before from eight days in Guatemala was enough for me.

I missed him while he was gone.... I missed him much!  Isn't it amazing what we don't realize we have until it's gone?  The void of him gone was much bigger than the hole in my heart that he filled all those years ago.  

Know what I missed the most, though?  I missed my teammate.  For these years, we've been a team.  Sometimes we've been amazing together... like the Chicago Bulls of the 1990s... we've been unstoppable.  During those times, women have commented to me, "I wish I had a marriage like yours."  It was good.

We've also been a team much like last year's Indianapolis Colts.  Times where one (or both) of us has abdicated our role and stepped out of the game.  It becomes quite obvious that you can't play without all the players.  Though no one said this, I wonder if people often thought, "why do they bother to stay married?"  It wasn't so good.

Years ago, my brother and sister in law wrote a marriage curriculum called "Team of Two."  At the time, they were a team of two, a family of two.  I ignorantly thought that that title had nothing to do with me because we were a team of four, almost five.  I missed the point... I think I even missed the entire target.  Their team of two was their marriage, not their family.  The two of them, regardless of how many children come later, were a team and they played the game of life together, both fulfilling their God-given roles.  Together their team was a force to reckon.

On this GratiTuesday, I'm respectfully borrowing Steve and Susy's title...  I am so grateful for my team of two!  Life is not easy and in these years of driving children to and fro and passing the baton back and forth, I often lose heart.  I'm easily overwhelmed with the details of when... where... and for how long.  Yesterday was one of those days.  A day where Chad was on call for surgery (this really means, don't count on him but he may be around...).  I've considered typing out the driving schedule I had yesterday for posterity but it really doesn't matter... it was simply a very busy day, and I thought I was the sole driver.  I forgot, for a moment, that we are a team of two.  The reminder came when the text came...

I'm off.  I will come get Eric and take him to work.

I was reminded, again, that I'm not in this parenting game alone.  I'm not in this marriage game alone.  I'm not even in the game of life alone.  I am in those things as a team member and thus, it doesn't fall on me to make sure the game happens.  Instead, we do it together, and I am grateful!

18 years of gratitude...

He came home from 8 days of surgeries in Guatemala just in time to celebrate 18 years with me.  There could be no greater anniversary gift than his presence to fill the void of last week.


Eighteen years together... and I look back and think "how many minutes and days that added up to months and years have I wasted in anger, jealousy, envy, strife and discontent? Would it add up to years of un-gratitude for the gift of him?"  Probably.


Eighteen years ago, I woke up at my grandparent's lake house and smiled.  It felt like Christmas morning to my heart.  I couldn't capture all the gifts of that day... I simply did my best to live in the moment.  To this day, April 23, 1994 was the BEST day of my life... all because my best friend covenanted to love me, honor me, cherish me and put up with me for the rest of his life!  


I was young and stupid.  There was much my heart didn't know or understand.  I didn't know there would be days that he wouldn't like me and that there would be times I had to work hard to remember that I loved him.  I didn't know that I would find ways to fling words that cut deeper than a knife at his heart.... or that both of us would invent ways to maim.  I didn't know that marriage is harder than anyone ever mentions... and on that day, everyone let me live in my fairytale world as I said "I do."


I also didn't know that you cannot undo.  Instead, you move on.  Redemption, forgiveness, grace, mercy and gratitude...those are the things that makes a good marriage into a great marriage.  You celebrate the good times and commit them to your heart memory.  Equally, you cling to each other in the bad and choose to forget and remember them no more.


Nine days ago, I sent him to Guatemala with hurtful words still ringing loud in my heart... and in his.  Last night, he came home and I marveled at how his heart could forget and forgive and move on.  I marveled more at the deep bond of companionship that simply picked up where it left off... forgetting and forgiving what lies in the past and moving forward in love and in gratitude.


I'm joining in with the gratitude community at Ann's again... this time counting eighteen ways I am deeply grateful for that gift eighteen years ago... the gift of Chad...


... for the ways he loves me
... for the ways he forgives me
... for the ways he makes me laugh
... for the ways he provides
... for the way he holds my heart


... for the way he takes care of the little things so that I don't have  to
... for his sense of adventure
... for his leadership


... for the ways we have grown together
... for the memories we have made
... for the fact that I can't sleep without him


... for the way he makes up games with our children
... for the way he makes them laugh
... for the way he disciplines with love
... for the ways he understands their hearts


... for his unwavering commitment to me
... for the fact that he loves Jesus more than me
... for his spiritual leadership in this house

when life disappoints...

I have a unsettling way of clinging to expectations.  I have some expectations of how people in my world around me will be/act/do, more expectations for myself and how I will be/act/do... and the most expectations for my God.  I have great expectations for God and what He will be/act/do for me.


This is one of those times when I hate looking at the heart mirror and seeing the reflection.  It's not so lovely... in fact, it's kinda ugly.


That ugly came out in an epic ugly cry the other night.  Deep sobs that cause your entire head to fill up so full that the only way to breathe is to gasp deep mouthfuls of oxygen between the tears.  It was truly that pathetic.


Six years ago, nine days before I turned 37, I had to have a complete hysterectomy.  Trust me... this was not a life expectation for me.  Instead, this journey has been one full of heartache, shame, hot flashes, extreme weight gain, and pain.  In two hours, my body went from one hormone extreme to the other and has never recuperated.  The alternative, though, was to bleed to death.   I only had a choice between the lesser of two evils.


I have fiercely clung, for six years, to the expectation that if I just be/act/do enough, God will restore me to my pre-surgery body... with more energy, less heat, less pain, more confidence, etc., etc.   If I just did enough, He would allow exercise to take the weight off, instead of just being something I endure.  The longer I let this expectation grow, the more fiercely I held on...


...until last week.  In His severe mercy, He is removing my death grip on this expectation.  


His expectations are not mine and my expectations only serve to get in the way of His good and pleasing work in my life.  

THIS... today... this is my life.  There is nothing He has not allowed and if I will only let go, all could be used for His glory.  

Though I despise this large, earthly tent that walks around with aching joints and hot flashes, it is the temple He has chosen, and questioning the "why?" of that only serves to feed the fire of disappointment, self-pity, and personal loathing.  It does nothing to further His Kingdom.

In the midst of the ugly cry and the "it's not fair! routine" the other night... the sweet, still whisper of "Count."

"but, I don't want to.  I can count, and it changes nothing.  It's still not fair."

"Count gifts because when life disappoints, I make beauty from ashes."

So, I count...

~*~

... for the man who held me through the night

... for the fact that in 18 years he's never left

... for laughter and remembering 

... for faithfulness

... for this man who gave his word when he said "for better, for worse"

... for a day with the four I love the most

... for laughter as the mancub continues, and continues, and continues to fill his growing body

... for new birthday books

... for lunch out

... for the surprises

... and the smiles that deliver surprises

... for friends who listen and laugh

... for children who love

... for the greenest March ever!

... for the bird's songs

... and the night peepers answers

... for the knowledge that His Word is Truth

... for the way He woes

... for the ways He loves

... for the eternity of His promises

~*~

care to join in with the gratitude community at Ann's today and count the gifts in your life?

birthday gifts... and a birthday winner

these were the blossoms

after the storm last night...

the storm that has been brewing

in my heart, deep within

came out in gale force winds

in the wee hours

suffice it to say...

 I am not aging well

so this morning...

this huge gift

a reminder of the huge ways

he loves me

because he thinks more is always better

and I love him for it

eighteen years together,

boundaries, property lines, and fences

have blurred beyond recognition,

a birthday for me 

and gifts for both of us

new running shoes for him

and books for me...

we are both happy

and tonight

a cookout and homemade ice cream 

shared with the love and laughter

of friends...

everyday is a gift

and it doesn't get any better than this!

unless, of course, it's winning...

Tammy 

you've won the giveaway

and you're right

books are the best gift, anytime!

when answered prayer takes time...

Time is such an elusive concept.  Try as you might,  you cannot nail jello to a tree, nor can you hold on to time.  It oozes in and out and around your fingers, runs down your arms as you try desperately to hold on to it.  And, all that is left is the sticky residue.  

Why is it that I know this about jello, and, 

yet, I fail to remember this about time?  

The greatest question is this... why, when I pray, do I expect the Creator of time, who is indeed timeless, to be bound by this elusive concept I call time?  


He created it when He separated the day from the night.  He owns it.... He owns my time as He is the only One who knows my days.  This my heart knows and recognizes...  

...the part my heart struggles with... 

His time and my time are not the same time.

Yesterday, I sat and watched and listened.  My man, the one who stole my heart 20 years ago or so, stood with a microphone, his Bible and the elements of communion on the table in front of Him.  He read of us, mere mortals, partaking of Christ's body.  He prayed that we would hunger for Him... desire more.  He stood there as a leader of our church, one of five elders who lead the sheep.  


He stood and read and prayed and my heart finally remembered.  My heart that suffers daily from amnesia, had forgotten the time I spent praying for a spiritual leader in our home.  My forgetful heart had forgotten the time on my knees with tears on my face praying that God would intervene... that He would raise up a leader within the walls of the house I call home.  I prayed that their daddy, those who were probably ages 7, 5 and 1, would lead them.


Yesterday, I looked and saw my girl who will soon be thirteen.... I saw her 15 year old older brother... and the 8 year old not-so-little-one.  Time has gone by while my heart has forgotten my prayer.  While the days between those prayers and now have been filled with ball practice, birthdays and family vacations, God was at work.  I couldn't see and I didn't know... the work that was done in the deep and private place of a soul that loves Jesus.

...all that time went by and I thought God had forgotten. 

 I forget, He never does.  

He who created time and created me... He who created my man and the three we call ours... He knew what this mere mortal thought she recognized years ago...


... He knew that NOW is the time for leadership in my home.  Now is the time to take a man cub and make him a man.  Now is the time to model for the one more woman than girl what a godly man looks like.  Now is the time... because time ticks by second by second and soon they will be the man or the woman looking for the godly man.  

Each evening, I sit and watch and listen as the leader of this home takes us through the Old Testament.  He who is faithful, even when I am not, gathers us around God's Word as we read and we pray together.  Sometimes I am tired... sometimes the kids are tired... sometimes we come with less than joyful hearts and yet he never waivers, he just reads and he prays... and we follow him.

Yesterday, my heart realized that answering prayer sometimes takes this elusive thought called time because God's time and my time are not the same... at all.


Joining in with the gratitude community at Ann's... counting the daily gifts of grace given by Grace on this Multitude Monday.  


~*~


... for a quick trip to Mama and Papa's
... for snippets of conversation on the way
... for a few moments each day with each of my 3 before the jello runs down the tree


... for rest
... for prayer
... for recognizing a spiritual battle for what it is


... for time with friends, new and old
... for the privilege to pray for loved ones
... for a mental-health day for the girl


... for a loose splint and less swelling
... for a PE teacher who understands
... for healing


... for times when He moves me from my comfort zone
... for words that came while fingers typed an email
... for prayer coverage


... for the recognition that the leader I prayed for is my life teammate
... for answered prayer, even when I don't realize it
... for the time between that makes us all more in His image

this mother's heart...

Having a child is 

deciding to forever 

watch your heart walk around

outside of your body.

~unknown~

Valentine's Day... the day of hearts, flowers, chocolate, and cupid.  The day decked out in pink, red, white with streamers and balloons.  A day set apart to celebrate love.  A day that will reap billions of dollars in consumer spending.

Yesterday I watched my heart be wheeled away by those in scrubs, hats and face masks.  I waited and I wondered.  I prayed and I pondered...  

Does he know how much I love him?

Did I say it enough?

Will they take good care of my boy?

Is he even my boy?

No... he's HIS...

Does He know I can hardly breathe?

Does He know how much I love him?

Do I trust enough?

This morning, I read this from a friend on facebook...

say it today

don't imply it

and I think... how often do I imply?  How many Valentine's Days have I gone out and spent $10 or $15 dollars to imply that I love the four I love the most?  How many times for anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas have I done the same thing?  

I KNOW my heart.  I KNOW I have done this.  When did implication take over communication? 

Today... this mother's heart looks different.  Perhaps it was because I realized that billions will be spent today.  Some will say I LOVE YOU... others will imply it with flowers, chocolate, hearts, valentines.  

...or maybe it was because yesterday my heart went missing for three hours and when I could finally see him, touch him, kiss him... I realized...  I haven't said it enough, because there is never enough.

Today... I want to say it in words and deeds.  I want to love on all four of them.  Tonight there will be a homemade meal... not fancy but tasty.  There will be no cards to open or gifts to unwrap... not because I think those things are wrong but because I have used them wrongly in the past.  

I don't want any implications this Valentine's Day.  I simply want to say it from my heart to theirs. 

when I have it backward...

Yesterday's JOY DARE... 

three hard eucharisteos

...why is this so hard for me?  

why do I easily say thank You for the hard things...

... the low checking account balance that leaves me trusting 

... the broken bone and that it is only one 

... the phone call to the surgeon, who was in California, because my man, the OR nurse, trusts him with our son

Why is it these things that I find to be the hard eucharisteo?  Why do I stumble saying thank You for these...

... the ones whose comments make my head spin

... the relatively easy conversations with the school this morning to get the mancub out of school for a few days

... my man's knowledge and expertise that this mother's heart fails to trust

I've wondered if I live life backward?  Why is the hard easier than the simple?  Why does my tongue stumble over thank You...

... for miscommunication that ends in abiding love

... for a mancub with heart full of adventure

... for the intent of the heart rather than the words of the mouth

The longer I live... the less I know.  Today, I seem to know very little... except that I live the hard eucharisteo backward.  

It's easy for me to say thank You for things I deem out of my control.  It's much harder to say thank You in an effort to control the attitude of my heart. 


join me in joining in the gratitude community at Ann's on this Multitude Monday?

at the end of a day...

This was what greeted me at the beginning of my day today... I wish I could have captured the sparkle of the snow.  Ab.so.lute.ly beautimous {some days just need made-up words}!


It never ceases to amaze me the amount of work I can do at home... if I simply stay home.  It's such a simple concept, I know.  However, it is one that I forget from time to time.  

often I need a reminder or two

So... today while Chad and Emme were out shoveling 8 driveways  for money to return to Guatemala in April, I managed... 

~to do 4.7 loads of laundry 

(washed, dried, folded, put-away... 

except for the last load of jeans 

that is still sitting in the dryer)

~to make a double batch of Chex Mix...

which, of course, is mostly gone now

~to send pre-publication manuscript

to some favorite bloggers for

their review

~to make two complete batches of granola bars...

and cut and wrap them 

and store them in the freezer for 

next week's lunches

~to assign chores and see that they were

mostly completed,

which means the house was about

69% clean today

~to make a batch of bosco sticks

wrapped and frozen and ready

for lunches next week

~to send manuscript via email to

THE WRONG PERSON!

yes... seriously! 

thankfully not too serious of a mistake

~to make a batch of turkey and cheese minis

wrapped and frozen and ready

for lunches next week

~to make yummy potato soup for supper...

not quite as good as my friend, Anne's,

but super close

~to make rolls to go with said soup

~to take Emme to girl's Bible study

and not run into the snow plow

that was taking 2/3 of the road

and at the end of a day like that...

~to cuddle up on the couch to watch

COURAGEOUS

with my courageous man

a great ending to a productive day!

what if we are all wrong...

What if we/me approached life knowing and acknowledging that I am wrong rather than trying to prove I am right?

As it is written,

there is no one righteous, not even one

there is no one who understands

there is no one who seeks God.

Romans 3:10-11

Seems lately, in Christian circles {love that vague term}, so many are trying to prove their stance based on right vs. wrong in how to follow Christ, where to educate our children, how to parent, how to be married, what movies to watch, which holidays to celebrate, which version of God's Word to read, etc., etc., etc.

I'm beginning to believe we are all wrong

... because if we were right, we wouldn't fall into the trap of trying to tear down our brother/sister to build ourselves up.

My children are teaching me this lesson.  It seems as if they are constantly fighting to be right.  In the fight, they tear down their brother/sister in order to defend themselves.  In the end, this parent is left to deal with puffed up pride and hurt feelings.

It's taken 42+ years to realize I do this and my Father God is left to deal with puffed up pride and hurt feelings.  

Sin is wrong

I sin

I am wrong

This is how I want to live the rest of my days... I know I will fail miserably.

I want to be wrong so that I don't fight to be right.

beware of the random post...

You are about to enter a very random post... 

you may want to walk away...

beware!

we woke up to this hanging off 

our roof this morning..

I actually opened a living room window 

and removed the screen to take this picture

much to the chagrin of the boy.

I don't know what bothered him more...

the cold air coming in

or that his mother was hanging out the window.

this still just cracks me up!

What looks like Rapture left-overs is

actually a very carefully laid plan.

This is what the 8 year olds bedroom floor

looked like Wednesday night.  She laid

her clothes out for homeschool co-op the next morning

in the exact way she would wear them....

funny girl!

beauty for $3.99 at Aldi.

The male cashier asked me if I was purchasing those

for myself or someone else.

I told him for my marriage...

I enjoy them immensely 

and it gets my husband off the hook.

this is what's for dinner tonight.

The idea of a turkey stuffed with a duck and a hen

has always intrigued me.

Though not a rockbottom price,

the clearance tag convinced Chad to try it

and he convinced me.  

The best part?

We're taking it to a spontaneous get-together tonight.

Should make for some great discussion!

this is how we spend snow days!

I'm wrapped up in this blanket 

looking down at Ebony at my feet.

I should be writing, folding laundry, doing dishes

or doing a million other things.

Love this blanket, by the way!

Dad bought it to wrap Chad's Christmas gift

and it's now used every day in 

the living room.

this is the first idea

for the book cover...

not crazy about it and have 

been brainstorming with my photography friend,

Kari,

she is uber talented and I can't wait 

to see it all come together!

I've started the sequel

and I thought a snow day 

would be the PERFECT day to write...

I even fell asleep last night dreaming

of writing all day long.

Let's just say...

not so much...

instead...

I'm under the red blanket

blogging a hideously random post...

and apparently,

you did not head the warning.