Fishin' Forty Linkup/Flashback Friday

I will definitely post about Disneyworld madness tomorrow but today I am doing my DELAYED Flashback Friday as a part of my friend Kelly's link up on adult birthday parties.  I loved this post.  It was called Surprise and it was posted last July after the hugely successful surprise 40th birthday party I planned for Bray.  If you missed it, here it is: 

So finally, after six months of planning, I can write about it - Saturday night, I (along with many others) pulled off what I didn't believe was possible in a day and age of e-mails/texts/cell phones - a SURPRISE birthday party. And not just any surprise party, but my husband's big blow out 40th Surprise Birthday Party! And if you doubt whether or not it was actually a surprise, you should have heard what came out of his mouth as we pulled up to our dear friend's house and there were over 50 people in the street to welcome him with a big "surprise!" I can assure you, my husband who does not like surprises or being the center of attention was not initially all that happily surprised. But I think about 10 minutes into it, when he saw his favorite friends and all of his family, he started warming to the idea. He didn't have to stand in a circle while people roasted him or open presents in front of a crowd, he just got to spent the evening hanging out with some of his favorite people.

So now, I'm recuperating. Anyone who knows me knows I love to throw a good party. But never have I been more motivated to throw a perfect party than now, for my husband, who I adore, and who I have never had the chance to throw a party for before! I started planning at the beginning of the year. Secured my location and then began to research themes and invitations. Found this adorable place in Wisconsin to do a fishing themed surprise 40th invite which my mother and I then took up a notch with fishing lures & burlap.

They went out eight weeks in advance so those out-of-towners could plan to come in (which they did - thank you very much)! Then began the on-line ordering process for all the customized items which arrived in a trickle at my office from April to June - banners, cocktail napkins, party favors, etc. Oh how I wish I could do this for a living. There actually is a ton of fishing themed stuff out there and we were able to get everything from from water bottle labels (which we painstakingly applied to dozens and dozens of water bottles), to napkins with fishing boats/poles, to our custom cupcake picks!   We had a Mexican buffet catered and for dessert we served a variety of cupcake flavors, including his favorite (carrot cake!).  The cherry on top was the This is Your Life scrapbook for which 19 people contributed stories and pictures. I became so emotional reading all these wonderful memories of Bray and watching him as he grew. I spent hours at night at Walgreen's scanning old photos in when he was out of town and my mom stayed with the sleeping munchkins.  The first part of the book was the stories, each typed in a different font and formated with pictures of the author with Bray, and the second part of the album was all the photos from every single phase of his life.   

All of it culminated on July 23rd, 4 days before his birthday, when we went to our friends for a "fish fry" at HIS suggestion! Low and behold, the gang was all there. I am completely exhausted but never have I taken on a more worthy endeavor for a more worthy person. It was such a gift to see him register how much everyone loves him and how thrilled we all were to be able to be a part of his life. As a part of this week's blogging, I'll post my story entry for the scrapbook, and maybe even the kids, but the rest of the entries are for him to enjoy and appreciate alone (and one day for our kids to sit and read and see how loved their daddy is).

Flashback Fridays

Well, technically this is my last Flashback Fridays since they were an institution of the summer, but because I will be in Disneyworld next Friday, I will likely have one more for you.  I went way back for this one.  It's short and was written in the first month or so of me writing.  This was originally written on December 16, 2010, and entitled Mustard Seeds.  My writing will be a little light next week since I'll be partying with my kiddos in Florida, but I will be back in full force with you after my birthday.  Happy Labor Day!

A very dear friend of mine is going through a very dark storm right now. Her sweet precious 4 year old has a very aggressive cancer. Despite all my weeks in the hospital with our babies, this is a new kind of trauma that I can't imagine. It is prolonged. It wreaks havoc even outside of the chemo treatments. And it wears you down to a state where you are scared to ask for miracles for fear that God might disappoint you - and then what? What would happen to all those years of faith if He didn't intervene like you asked?

I understand your faith being tested. I have been intimately acquainted with your hopes being dashed and dark news greeting you like a hail storm.  And while I have no words of wisdom for those going through a cancer storm with a child, I do know that the Lord understands that we are human (God made us after all) and does not expect us to blithely dance through trauma unaffected and sunnily optimistic. Our faith may feel small, but He tells us that small faith can do big things!  My mom gave me a mustard seed encased in a glass bead dangling from a gold chain which I wore through much of my childhood. It was supposed to be an ever present reminder that even though sometimes our faith feels SO small to us, God can use our small faith to do big things.  The God who multiplied 5 loaves and 2 fish, the God who raised Lazarus from the dead, the God who walked on water and calmed the storms WANTS to do big things.  He is a moving mountains kind of a God.  And when that mountain stands between you and survival, it is so hard to believe it will move and it is so scary to ask. But it CAN move.  So open your palm, imagine that teeny tiny mustard seed, and believe in a God of miracles.

Matthew 17: "Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

*Note from 2012: my darling friend's daughter is in full remission.  I know this isn't the answer for everyone with this struggle, but praise gracious God that it was His answer for her. 

Flashback Fridays

I had a rough day yesterday.  For assorted reasons.  By the time I picked the kids up from soccer (which we're quitting for reasons I will detail on another day) and got home to feed them dinner, I was a wreck.  Fortunately, my mom had come and made dinner which allowed me to just sit down at the table with them and put my head down.  The baby was so worried about me he got up from eating dinner and came over to give me a hug and pats on the back.  This child is precious.  So for today's Flashback Friday, I remembered a post from about this time last year.  I was super sick and this sweet child came and covered me with his blanket.  I hope you enjoy my post from September 19, 2011 entitled Top Five (or maybe bottom five):

This weekend had its highs and lows. For example, I lost 2 pounds. But I didn't lose it the fun way.

Here's the Top (or bottom) Five Wrap Up from the nuttiness that was our weekend:

5. I got to go on a date with my husband. To the E.R. After he stepped on a nail Saturday night, which went through his boot and into his foot (which he then proceed to extricate), he decided he probably should get a tetanus shot Sunday. Not wanting him to feel lonely, I woke up at 5 am and threw up so violently for several hours that twice I thought I was going to pass out because I couldn't breath in. Then I broke out in a terrifying, and itchy, rash from neck to knees. We didn't make it to church Sunday morning, but St. Luke's we figured was close enough.

4. The little lady's burgeoning independence. She loves doing stuff herself. She will punch you out if you try to help her (unless it's putting her shoes on, those she wants on all the time, and various pairs, and she needs help and needs it now). During our school drop off this morning, I've never seen a child run so fast. She ran right past me, gave her lunchbox to Miss Michelle, put her paint smock on and began her next work of art. Seriously, she was painting in full gear in the two minutes it took me to unload all their stuff and say goodbye (not that she bothered waving, she was busy at school).

3. The baby's empathy. Little buddy was SO worried about mommy laying near death on the sofa while waiting for Miss Maria to come (so Bray and I could go to the ER), that he ran over and crawled up on the couch with his blanket and covered me up and sat there patting me. Seriously? He's not even 2. He's going to be the one making sure my hair gets done at the old folks home.

2. The neighborhood playground. I can not BELIEVE it took me so long to discover this thing. You pay $25 and get a playground access key. I did it because we're having the kids 2nd birthday party there, so I got a key about a month ago. Oh my heavens, it is wonderful. It's the only place right now I can take them solo. It's fenced in and super kid proof and has all these fabulous slides and swings and toys. We go every weekend morning and had some weirdo not come and parked there and watched us with his truck running we would have stayed all morning long. It rocks!

1. Rain! It rained on our little corner of the world for several periods this weekend. My favorite of them all was the 5 am rain we got this morning. The thunder was loud enough to wake two of the three. The little lady settled back into her crib but Dennis the Menace was having none of it. He was coming to bed with us. Lest you think he was beside himself with fear, let me clear up that misconception. One of his favorite books is Mr. Brown Can Moo, in which there is a page that says, "Boom, boom, boom! Mr. Brown is a wonder. Boom, boom, boom! Mr. Brown makes thunder...." So imagine, if you will, a three-foot, towheaded, evangelical preacher standing in your bed, pumping his fist in the air with all his might, bellowing "Boom, Boom, Boom!" It was too funny to grieve over my lost hour of sleep.

Flashback Fridays

I thought today's Flashback Friday was particularly apropos given yesterday's post.  This just goes to support why so many of us are finding ourselves in a situation where enough is never enough.  It was written on April 14, 2011, and entitled Being the Joneses.  (One editorial note, I say that we don't own an i-anything, but I admit I do now own an iPhone....)  I hope you enjoy: 

I grew up lower lower middle class. My mom doesn't like for me to say poor. But let's just say there weren't any extras. After my parents divorced, it was even tighter. However, mom always admonished me against trying to keep up with the Joneses.

I don't know who started that saying, "Keeping Up with the Joneses," but it's become even more accurate as the decades fly by. Everyone is trying to not just keep up with the guy or girl next door, but surpass them. Your car has leather, well mine has heated seats and a fancy sound system. Your shoes are suede, well mine are designer suede with embossed stitching. Your husband manages a company, well my husband owns a company. Your kids started talking at 10 months, well mine knew Latin at 11 months.

Sound all too familiar? I like to think that I'm above all this, but I'm not. We're not very tech savvy, so we don't own an i-anything and we don't drive Mercedes and we don't own a half a million dollar house but I've found that I struggle (aka envy) in more abstract areas. Our little neighbor friend, a month younger than the kids, stopped by to say hello, and say hello he did! He waved and said hi and bye and mommy and daddy and all sorts of other stuff. My genius children stared back - I picked up their little hands to get them to wave & the second I let go they fell limp at their sides. I panicked - oh no, my children aren't advancing quickly enough, aggghhhh, help, we're falling behind. I wrote about how I went to a barbecue alone because my husband was out of town and then stared enviously at all the other wives accompanied by their husbands. THEIR husbands made it, but mine travels.

Oh, the green eyed monster. It may not be material things that you're after, but I would hazard a guess that the other things are more insidious. And it's nothing new - these cravings have been worming their way into people's hearts and minds since the beginning of time. That's why so many of the commandments in Exodus deal with wanting other people's stuff. Beyond the obvious one, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house....nor any thing that is thy neighbour's," are others: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me," "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image," "Thou shalt not commit adultery." The translation of this in The Message says simply, "No other gods, only me."   And all of this envy, this lusting after things or people or situations, it's just saying I want something other than God - God's not enough.

But as I was struggling with this last week, I had to remind myself that everything is not as it appears. Just as a bunch of crazy people think I'm supermom, which I think we can all agree couldn't be further from the truth, they aren't the Joneses either. Those children out-talking my kids may not run as fast or have the same sense of humor or be able to lift large objects with Hulk-like strength :) And those husbands walking into the barbecue may be in town but they may party at night with their buddies or play on the computer at all hours or struggle with pornography or spend all the family money.

That's when it hit me - I am the Joneses. I am married to a wonderful man who loves me. I have three children who are the most fun little people I have ever met. I have a great job and friends and parents.

You are the Joneses too though. Stop looking at the green grass next door and check out the bounty in your backyard. If you're single and lusting after that marriage you see, then know that there's a woman trapped in a loveless or abusive marriage that's lusting after your singledom and the first chances you still have ahead of you. If you're married and lusting after that fun single life, know that there's a single person who would love to come home after work to a house with a husband or children. If you want kids and don't have them, then know that there's a mom crying because the cops told her son was just jailed for drug use. If you have kids and are stressed out by finances or disabilities, know there is a couple that is undergoing their third IVF treatment with their hearts breaking because they can't get pregnant. That doesn't make your situation less hard. It just means that Mr. Jones and Ms. Jones don't have it any easier.

You are the Joneses. I am the Joneses. If we could just get on board with being the Joneses, maybe we would be transformed and spend our time thanking God for his abundant blessings instead of "coveting our neighbor's house...."

Psalm 49 -Do not be overawed when others grow rich, when the splendor of their houses increases; for they will take nothing with them when they die, their splendor will not descend with them.

Psalm 68 - Sing to God, sing in praise of his name, extol him who rides on the clouds; rejoice before him—his name is the LORD. A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling....When you, God, went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness, the earth shook, the heavens poured down rain, before God, the One of Sinai, before God, the God of Israel. You gave abundant showers, O God; you refreshed your weary inheritance. Your people settled in it, and from your bounty, God, you provided for the poor.

2 Corinthians 9 - And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

Flashback Fridays (or the poop story)

Okay, so I was debating what to use for today's Flashback when I got an email from a triplet momma.  Her trio are climbing out of their cribs, not yet two, and she wanted to find out the latest on the drama of my crib conversion and if I had any tips for her.  I had to laugh.  I about the worst role model you could have for the change from cribs to big kid beds.  So I thought I would give you a progress report and then flashback to the story that people still stop me to talk about. 

It was mid-February when our nights began to unravel.  I was not comfortable using crib tents and the kids could all climb out of their cribs, even with the mattress on the floor, so we decided to convert to big kid beds.  How bad could it be right?  Here's a summary of how the insanity unfolded that first week. 

We've gone back and forth since then.  We've gone back to cribs, with them turned around so the high part is in front, and the mattress on the floor, but eventually, since our children could scale a 40 story glass downtown building, they made their way out.  They also, FYI, can climb the baby gate in front of their door so they basically can make their way out like lunatics in the house (and they can unlock the doors and open them so we're always in lock down mode at the house).  Bed time is still hard.  We start to bed about 7:45 and they go to sleep sometime between 9 and 10 pm.  They have ripped apart their dresser.  They have torn their closet to shreds.  They have nearly broken their wooden beds.  They have colored on the walls (and no, I have no idea where the crayon came from, it's like they're prisoners smuggling in contraband).  We've tried everything.  They stay up later, and they still wake up before 7 am.  They've skipped naps, nights are still chaotic, possibly more so.  They turn three in October and I'm just hoping as they age it will die down.  Last night they all climbed over the baby gate (we can't shut their door, they FLIP out, we clearly should have done it when they were younger but that ship has sailed), and just came out in the living room to hang with us.  It was 9 pm. 

So that's the update.  Don't let these smiling faces fool you, they do not stay like this:

And here's the infamous flashback.  It was written on February 19, 2012, and entitled Insert Expletive Here:

I realize I post a lot about my faith and God's hand in our journey. So I also realize I'm not allowed to curse because it sends a bad message for someone who writes about faith and family to have four letter words on her blog. However, the most restraint I can use tonight is for you to use the expletive that you think most fitting given your background. It may be that is, "gracious." I assure you, regardless of my personal Christianity, I am human and that is not the word running through my head tonight.

As you know from this week's post, we converted to big kid beds last weekend. Harrowing is not nearly descriptive enough of a word. Yesterday, instead of nap time, the eldest took off his poopy diaper (the disastrous turn potty training has taken is a whole other issue), and the boys proceeded to spread the poop all the floor (beige carpet), doors and each other. After a day of work, we still can't get it out of the carpet though the blankets and doors (and skin) has been restored. Despite running them like dogs at the Aquarium this morning, which was, in and of itself, a fun adventure, only the baby took a nap. I am not willing to part with naps at 28 months. Especially when, at 8 pm tonight, they are still running around hopping from bed to bed while Bray sits with them (when I threw Piglet at the completely defiant little lady we realized it was time for me to leave the room). We tried to bathe them to calm them down, but while trying to get their p.j.s, the little lady took the contents of the potty chair and poured it on our floor while the baby crawled into the fireplace to play in the soot.

There are no words to express the incredible frustration, anger, dismay, and Titanic sense of sinking in our household. Bray and I are taking turns losing our temper at least so that one of us steps in when the other one literally can not take one more minute of this naked disobedience and destruction. We can't really process tips right now, we're in sheer survival mode, but we'll take prayers.

Flashback Fridays

Since I am in North Carolina today for the SheSpeaks! conference I decided to post for today's Flashback my post from the day I registered for the conference.  I will be back with all new material on Monday.  Heck, you may not be able to get me to shutup.  Until then, enjoy Through the Tears, the Vision Reappears posted on March 15th:

I'm sitting here, at my desk, typing these words with tears in my eyes. There's always been a part of me that's wanted to be a writer. I've been keeping a journal since I can remember and writing short stories since way back. I've written everything from letters to boyfriends, fiction projects with friends, devotionals for women, and, obviously, blog posts. I love to write. 

But every increasingly, particularly since the summer of 2010, I've felt called to move more into ministry as a career. Writing, speaking, and all that goes with that. It's a very impractical calling. It comes with a significant pay cut if I ever acted on it. And while I felt that calling strongly last year, I've struggled more with it this year because of the reality of what it would look like. How radically our lives would change. As the reality set in, I felt myself taking steps back. Doubting what could actually happen.

I felt a radical shift in my mentality today though. Last spring, I saw that Lysa Terkeurst/Proverbs 31 was putting on a conference called She Speaks for aspiring Christian writers and authors in North Carolina. It looked so interesting but it fell on Bray's big surprise 40th birthday party weekend so I didn't look any further. Well, yesterday registration opened for the 11th Annual She Speaks conference this July. I started reading about the break out sessions and the leaders and I wanted to go SO badly. But it is expensive. It is far away. It entails me spending a weekend away from the kids. So I thought it wasn't really practical for me. I talked to my dear friend who's a Christian writer and asked if she would consider going, and she would, and we both decided to at least talk to our husbands about it. 

I printed out all the materials, price shopped hotels in the area, and took it home. After the kids were down (loosely, they were behind the baby gate in the room is about all), I went into Bray's office and made my pitch for consideration. I told him I didn't want an answer now but just to think about it and let me know given the budget implications. Well, he just said right away, "GO!" I said, "but it's expensive." But he just came back with, "GO!" When I priced flights this morning and saw how pricey it would be to fly to North Carolina I emailed him the update and asked if he wanted to reconsider. All he said in response was, "BOOK IT!" 

So I mapped out all the courses I wanted to take, researched the speakers and topics of the ones that conflicted (some of these break out sessions have five choices, and I'd like to go to THREE of them!), and went on-line to register. I can not describe to you the overwhelming emotion I felt as I started clicking my selections: Writer Track, I would like to meet with a publisher, place me in a Writer's Peer Evaluation Group, and then the break out choices like From Blog to Book Deal, Reaching Today's Busy Woman, Writing Out of Your Passion, Expanding Your Ministry........ I think I cried with every single click. It felt like I was actually DOING something to follow my calling. Like God had just opened this amazing door to actually pursue this writing thing and Bray had pushed me through it. His still small voice saying to my spirit, if this is what I have in store for you, I will make it happen. Trust Me. 

It is terrifying. Just the thought. But it's also the most exciting thing I could imagine. And I can still ONLY imagine it. Last week, at Beth Moore's final bible study session, she said, "You are safe, even in the middle of a war, when you are in the center of God's will." She said that some of us are trying so hard to stay safe, that we could be sitting on our couch eating a ham sandwich and choke and die. If we'd stop trying to keep ourselves safe in our own strength, even when that means running from God, and just follow the path He has for us, then we will be safe in the center of His hands. In the center of His plan. In the center of His will. 

I'm not at the center right now, but I feel like at least I just made a u-turn and stopped running from it.

Flashback Fridays

Today's flashback is from March 17, 2011.  I pre-selected it after writing yesterday's post about battling with mistakes from my past.  This was entitled Battling Back the Ghosts.  The thing I love the most is that only this morning did I discover that the scripture I used to close yesterday's post was the same scripture I used to close this post a year and a half ago.  God is so faithful to use His word - if that isn't just more evidence that He is the same yesterday, today and forever (Heb. 13:8)...

I'm being called. Into a role. Into a brand new frontier. It's my dream. But I believe it's also my calling. You may be one of the many women out there being called to do something different. Something way outside your comfort zone. To take a BIG step of faith. Of course there are obstacles. But there is one big obstacle that I have, that you may have too, that should not be an obstacle. There are real obstacles and then there are self-imposed obstacles. We self-sabotage our dreams. That is a big self-made obstacle.

Our past. Previous actions. Misdeeds. Inappropriate behavior. Missteps. What will people say if I do this new thing KNOWING what I used to do. What I used to be.

That's where I'm at right now. My new course, my calling, is something in the faith-based arena. However, I am not pristine. I am not untainted. I am not without regret over certain past behavior. And it haunts me, only now, as I'm being called to a new place. To a higher calling.

I believe that women, in particular, are stymied, stunted, diverted from the best and highest course for their life because of apprehension over "what will they think?" I am determined NOT to let that stop me.  Look around you. So many people that are doing great things, life changing things, amazingly phenomenal things, have a history. Have dealt with a past haunting them. If you look at their history, it would not lend itself to the current miraculous place that they are in now. In fact, if Vegas were taking odds, it wouldn't take these odds.

What if those people, those who have been game changes, event makers, faith shakers, had let those odds, that past, a haunting, those questions about what people would think, stop them??? What if Peter had said, I'm sorry, I can't be the Rock upon which Christ will build His church because what if I bump into someone who saw me the night I denied Him? What will they think of me? They would never follow me. A man of weak faith. Wouldn't they question if there's any substance or value to what I say? In fact, I might end up just being a hindrance to the building and spreading of Christianity. Yet he somehow, and I don't know how, managed to move past that. The cloud of worry over what people's perception would be. He got over the regret and LET GOD work wonders - miracles we're still reading about thousands of years later.

Don't let something you've done stop you from being who God designed you to be.

Don't let your calling go unanswered because of fear over what people might think.

If anything your testimony will reach those who otherwise would have gone unreached because your faith would have felt inaccessible. God has used adulterers and murderers and faith-deniers to rock the world.

And sweet sister, you are pristine, clean, pure before our Father and Savior.

Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Psalm 103:11 - For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

Romans 8 - Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free...And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose...What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one.

Flashback Fridays

For those of you just joining me, this summer I'm doing Flashback Fridays as I work on finishing my books.  This post comes from nearly a year ago.  I've been going through old posts as I build my portfolio for the writers conference I'm attending (two weeks from today!).  I stumbled on this one and it still felt so true.  I hope you enjoy The Other Side of the Mountain from August 2011:

As you might imagine, I hear a fair amount of kids music these days. We have a little c.d. player (yes, we're not high tech in my house) and a stack of kids music c.d.s covering everything from the alphabet to nursery rhymes. I've had this one annoying song stuck in my head all week. It goes something like this (I apologize in advance for my singing):

The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, to see what he could see.
And all that he could see, and all that he could see, was the other side of the mountain, the other side of the mountain, the other side of the mountain........was all that he could see.

Clearly the people that write children's songs are geniuses. But after hearing this song in my head for several days, the wisdom of the lyrics began to seep in. Here's a bear that is restless. Discontented. He's looking for something new, exciting, different. So he sets out on a big adventure. He's going to go to the OTHER SIDE of the mountain. Maybe it will change his life. Things could be so much better. Then he gets there. To the other side. To see what he could see. Turns out, all that was there was the other side of the mountain. Can't you hear his little bear brain whirring, "Hmmmmmmm, this is just the other side of the SAME dad-gum mountain. What was the big appeal? Why was I in such a hurry for this? It's the same mountain."

Have you been there? Are you there today? Are you fed up with your side of the mountain? Are you ready to take off to see what you can see? Leave your job, your marriage, your church, or your friends...... Unsatisfied, unfulfilled, unsettled. Wouldn't life be better on the other side? Can't you imagine what must lay JUST on the other side? Might I offer the wise words of a children's song to you? When you arrive, it will just be the other side of the same mountain. Life has a way of working that way. I know, I've gone on these adventures. They promise more than they can deliver. So hang in there. Say a little prayer. Take a deep breath. Reconsider going over the mountain.

Flashback Fridays

Today's Flashback Friday is from early in 2011.  It was entitled They're Stupid  and was inspired after watching a rare sweet reality television moment, enjoy: 

I was not popular in high school. I wasn't UNpopular but I certainly wasn't popular. My graduating high school class had 535 people in it. I was a number. Not particularly known one way or the other. The first year was particularly difficult for me. First, I was a girl in high school which isn't an easy feat regardless of your station. Then it was a brand new school and I didn't know anyone. I was going through an awkward phase (I have pictures to prove it). And my parents were recently divorced, and my brother and I lived with my newly working mom in, well, lower lower middle class. It was a challenging time. One I've never written about and one I don't plan to write about for a while. But I wanted to provide a bit of background so you could appreciate how a particular statement resonated with me last night.

As you may know from a previous blog entry, I have a couple of television guilty pleasures. And I do mean guilty. They are not intellectually stimulating or growth inspiring to my faith. They are guilty pleasures. Ones I have no mind to abdicate at this time. Surely, eventually, they'll die a television death, and then they'll be gone and I won't replace them. On a recent episode of one show, a girl was on a date with a boy who liked her very much. He was sharing how, even though he is very smart and well-educated NOW, he didn't do particularly well in high school because he was unpopular. As he wisely stated, social standing can play out academically. They went on talking about other topics and he said something so entirely funny and smart and romantic. She took his hands, and looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "You are like no other guy I know. The people who said you were unpopular, whoever made you feel unpopular when you were younger, they're stupid."

Did you hear that? Whoever made a negative commentary about who you are and your worth and your value and what a treasure you are, they are stupid. They don't know what they're talking about. You are precious and wonderful and should be the most popular person in the whole world. I have to tell you, the look in his eyes when she uttered those words made me cry. It almost made him cry. It's like she took years of this pain, this worthless label he'd worn as a brand, and she patched over it with worth. The brand won't ever be gone, but a beautiful person whom he valued told him those people didn't know what they were saying and I think you are amazing.

I am not a huge advocate of calling people stupid, but I have never heard the word used more appropriately. They are stupid. People who decide, for whatever insecure reasons, to meanly make judgments on who deserves to be popular and unpopular are stupid. I have nieces who are teenagers and I saw this play out just two weeks ago as one got verbally abused by some mean-spirited teens - so much so that it left her in tears and her spirit crushed. It's heart wrenching if you are the unpopular kid. And it stays with you for life. My husband went through it. I went through it. This guy on television illustrated how much damage it can do - here he was 13 years later still desperately longing to hear those people were wrong.

If you endured this, and you don't have someone right now to tell you that those people were stupid, then let me speak those words to you today. They were stupid. They didn't know what they were talking about. You are beautiful or handsome. You have so much value. You are precious and such a wonderful addition to our world. They said those things out of very painful insecurities of their own not realizing the lasting pain it would cause you and not even believing what they said. So if you can, release a piece of that pain today. And another piece tomorrow. Each day come read this last paragraph and know that you are wonderful and any negative worthless labels that were given to you in elementary school or middle school or high school or college or at your office are not true. They are lies. The truth is that you are precious.

Isaiah 43 - For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior...you are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you....

Flashback Fridays

For today's Flashback Friday I was going to post from last January about when everyone in our family got the flu since I'm currently batting a stomach bug.  But then I ran across this entry from March 4, 2011 and felt I should share this instead.  Because I've had the great joy to have so many new readers this year, I realized that many of you may not know about our infertility journey.  It was not as onerous as some friends I know, but it was one of our hardest times.  This entry, entitled Our Story: An Introduction, sets the stage.  If you'd like to read more, there is an Our Story category link at the right of this post that will take you to all the parts I've written thus far. I'm looking forward to the chapters of Our Story yet to come.  Here it is.....

I enjoy television. I don't see much of it these days but I have three guilty pleasures. I DVR those three shows and watch them as time permits. One recently featured the leading couple struggling with infertility. As the lead character (let's call her Meredith) and her best friend (let's call her Cristina) visit, Cristina shares that she's been asked by a friend to be her baby's godmother. Meredith encourages Cristina throughout the day to decline to serve as the godmother. As the episode nears, Meredith stands in front of the newborn nursery and finally shares with her friend why she's asking her to say no, "It just seems like if you agree to be the baby's godmother, you're saying that I'll never have a baby of my own."

Those words flattened me. Even though they are said by fictional characters, those words reflect a heartbreaking reality occurring in many lives tonight. And that sentiment, that aching and sadness, that feeling that you may never have children, was incredibly real in my life for years. Reading into everything that everyone says or does, feeling like any given action is a judgment on your own personal fertility struggles, happens.

And so it led me to think that maybe it's time to share our story. I've hesitated for some time. Partly because it's still fresh. And partly because I have friends whose infertility struggle ended differently than mine and they made the decision to either remain childless or to adopt. My story of miracles doesn't at all diminish the miracles that God worked in their lives. They also are people of great faith and God had a different plan in mind.

So over the next few weeks, in addition to my ongoing random posting, I'll share our story. I pray that it gives someone going through the same struggle hope. I pray it will serve solely as a testament to God's faithfulness and miraculous power.

Flashback Fridays

So this installment is from February 2011 when Bray and I camped out to get the kids into a Mother's Day Out program.  After this past fall's melee with learning the private school process, I sense it is only going to get worse.  But this was such a sweet reminder to me how God is always at work and that I need to just relax a little!  Enjoy Mommies Camp Out and I'll have a new Father's Day post from the farm this weekend - rustle up your cattle friends, we're heading back to Louisiana!

Well, that title should really say mommies AND daddies camp out.  Let me give you the punch line and then work backwards - "They Got In!"  That's right, at 16 months old, I've been a little nerve ball about getting my babies into an amazing school next fall for two mornings a week (their starter program).  I'd interviewed and researched schools in the area - traditional, Montessori, you name it, trying to find the program I thought would fit them best.  And I just couldn't find one.  Everyone told me at this age it doesn't matter, that the program is just for socialization, but I couldn't get on board.  I think that's a lost opportunity.  If I have bright children (which as you know from previous posts, my children are geniuses  ), why not capitalize on this time for them to learn new and interesting things.  Well I fell in love at Memorial Drive UMC's open house.  It seemed like the perfect fusion of a program - structure so they would get used to having that in a school environment coupled with the opportunity to capitalize on their own intellectual strengths.  The teachers were great, the program certified and the environment just happened to be the church where Bray and I were married.

Apparently this perfect fusion of a program is not unnoticed in our area of town.  They even used the term "the Harvard" of Memorial preschools!  So apparently, unless you are already in school there or the sibling of a student, parents CAMP OUT to get their kids in to the program.  When I called yesterday, sibling registration was so overwhelming this year that they only had TWO spots left in our age group.  I was disappointed until the registrar told me to be FIRST in line and I still might be able to get all three admitted.  So Bray and I had a conversation about whether midnight or 2 am was more appropriate (they hand out numbers at 7 am based on first come first serve and register at 9 am).  Bray magnanimously offered to do the midnight to 4:30 am shift and my mom offered to spend the night so I could relieve him before 5.  Armed with our School Camp Out Plan, we drove up to the school/church about 8:30 pm so I could show him where he needed to be and where to tape the sign in sheet when much to my incredulity and DISMAY there were two people in their camp out chairs plopped in front of the door.  Seriously?  At 8:30 pm????

So I rushed home, got ready & dashed back up to the church (the plan was now Gindi 9 pm to 12, Bray 12 am to 4:30 and then Gindi back on while Bray got the kids up and fed - work be darned).  Luckily, the two people were a couple and were camped out for the infant program which meant........drum roll please.....I was first in line for MDO 2 (my kids program)!!! TaDa!  FIVE MINUTES later, a woman came and got in line behind me for the MDO 2 program, I won it by FIVE MINUTES!  Shortly after visiting with the campees, I retired to my car until Bray rescued me where he then proceeded to sleep out in the parking lot until I rescued him by which time I could no longer sleep (meaning I got about 3 1/2 hrs of sleep).  Would I get in?  Would they wait list one kid who would just totally miss out on school next year (I exaggerate I know - but I'm slightly inclined that way....)?  NO.  After handing out numbers at 7 am the registrar went back to see who would get in & upon her return announced we were IN - ALL THREE!!!  Insert Happy (albeit tired) Dance Here.

There were a million ways God worked to get the kids into this program where I feel so strongly they are supposed to be, but here are the highlights:  I looked into the program four days before open house (having no idea about the open house or the school or the camp out) and was told about the open house when I emailed, at the open house I fell in love with the school and felt sure this was where God wanted us, at the open house I learned there was a "we really don't recommend you camping out" policy which meant every Type A parent in the room would be camping out (news to me), I met a fellow triplet mom there that had helpful guidance, I had every sweet prayer friend praying that things fell into place, I got some inside intel, Bray and I just HAPPENED to go look at the school camp out site at the exact time we needed to so that we would beat the other camper by FIVE minutes, and I could go on and on.  I don't have concert tickets, nor the latest flat screen t.v., but boy do I have peace of mind about the fall.

Do they let you camp out to get your kids into the actual Harvard?  And if so, will someone tell me when to start standing in line?

Jeremiah 29 - For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.
Psalm 26 - For I have always been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.
Isaiah 25 - LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago.

Flashback Fridays

Well, it's Friday which means Flashback Fridays - at least for the summer as I work to pound out these books.  Today's installment was written on November 2, 2010, and was one of my marriage posts entitled, Boot Camp - On the Track and at Home.  I hope it resonates with you today.  Have a great weekend.

So this week I began my SECOND month of boot camp.  Let me start with two important facts.  I hate mornings.  I hate exercise.  This is terrible I realize but it is reality.  However, for some bizarre reason, last month I committed to a boot camp near my house that begins at 5 am.  I've lost nine pounds.  AND........I actually ran the 3 reps of 400 meters w/sit ups and wall balls for our Monday work out that we benchmark against at the end of the month.  That is huge.  At the beginning of October I could only do the 200 meter reps.  But one of the trainers said something that stuck, and really pushed me to this new threshold - pain is temporary, quitting is forever.  

So I've decided to apply that slogan to the boot camp at home too.  And in fact, any woman of faith could apply that to her marriage when the going gets tough.  I have been madly in love with my husband for almost seven years and married nearly five.  But if a year of triplets doesn't provide stressors on a marriage, I don't know what would.  And while this has been an amazing year filled with daily delight at seeing the new things unfolding before our children's eyes as they learn and develop, it has also been a hard one as our marriage has to mature to a new level.  And during the fights, and the fall out, I think it's important to remember that pain is temporary, quitting is forever.  

God is a big fan of marriage (healthy marriages - none of this applies if you are being abused).  And He's a big fan of them surviving.  AND THRIVING.  These marriages He designs for us are not marriages on life support.  Jesus' first miracle was at a wedding - He wanted to be part of this precious celebration!  (John 2)  God tells us in Genesis "it is not good for man to be alone," and in I Corinthians that, "For as the woman originates from the man, so also the man has his birth through the woman; and all things originate from God."   Plus He repeatedly uses marriage as a metaphor for His relationship with us.  (Isaiah, Hosea, and more...) He wouldn't draw that picture for us if He hadn't designed marriage as a perfect union.  Lucky for me.  

Mark 10: 6-9: Jesus says “But at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.’‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.’So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” 

Pain is temporary; quitting is forever.

Flashback Fridays

I am in the middle of writing three books.  One for the ABA on leadership for women.  Two for me.  A funny parenting book and a book about how our worth, regardless of the good or bad feedback we get from the world, only comes from Christ. 

As a result, I'm in writing overload.  So for the summer I'm introducing "Flashback Fridays."  A look at some of my older blog posts, some of which were written before I even told anyone I had a blog.  I began writing in October 2010, when the kids were one, and wrote about faith, family and some really random stuff.  Today's is one of my most random, but also one of my favorites, because this really is how I think.  It's from December 2010.  It was titled, Banshees (and thank you Grey's Anatomy).  Here you go, enjoy & happy Memorial Day weekend!


So I was going to attempt to describe what occurred over the course of Christmas weekend with my 14 month old triplets entering their first running around simultaneously phase which happened to coincide with our stay at the VERY non-baby proofed family farm house in Louisiana. I felt the best way to describe the experience was to say they were running around all weekend like banshees. I don't know if your family uses this expression but I grew up with it - for example, my mom would say that my brother ran around the house "like a banshee."

But before I posted my hilarious story for the blogosphere I thought it might be prudent to actually look up the word banshee & figure out what the heck a banshee is and why my mom used it. Well, it turns out it's this pretty terrible Irish mythological creature who was an omen of death and wailed. Somehow this word made it into the English lexicon as urban slang for nutty behaviour. Seriously? This is all I could think - seriously? How the heck did my little momma, wife and daughter of a minister, end up using this pretty creepy term to describe hyperactive children's behaviour? I certainly have no interest in using it in my jargon anymore.

This, in my streams of consciousness mentality (which I will not subject you to often because it truly is a train wreck of an experience), led me to think - why was my first thought, "Seriously?" In fact, my first thought was "seriously?" at least a dozen times this weekend. Freely given parenting advice from the in-laws - "seriously, have you had 14 mo old triplets?" My husband deciding after the first day at the farm we'd leave earlier than we'd originally planned - "seriously, what do you think I've been telling you about taking toddling triplets to a very uncontained space?" My youngest laughing so hard during his Christmas Eve bath that he literally laughed the poop right out of himself - "seriously, you are freakin' hysterical!" Quickly followed up with, "seriously, on top of everything now I have to disinfect all our bath toys and bathtub?"

This led me to my above-titled gratitude for Grey's Anatomy. If you are not a fan of the show, then you probably don't utter "seriously" in every other thought you have during the day. Even my mom (also a fan) says it all the time. What did we do before Grey's Anatomy? What word could possibly appropriately capture that emotion if Meredith Grey had not popularized the term, "seriously?" I mean, seriously, what word did I use - I guess I used "really." "Really - have you had 14 mo old triplets?" Do you see what I mean.  This does not have the same ring AT ALL! What else could we use? My mind is a blank. This term is absolutely PERFECT for almost every single emotion that you need to begin with an emphatic punctuation.

So drop the use of the term banshee and start using seriously if you don't already use it regularly. Except, now what will we replace the term banshee with? "Running around like a _________....." "Screaming like a ____________....." Maybe I'll write the creators of Grey's and see if they can come up with a term for that too.

Banshees (and thank you Grey's Anatomy)

So I was going to attempt to describe what occurred over the course of Christmas weekend with my 14 month old triplets entering their first running around simultaneously phase which happened to coincide with our stay at the VERY non-baby proofed family farm house in Louisiana.  I felt the best way to describe the experience was to say they were running around all weekend like banshees.  I don't know if your family uses this expression but I grew up with it - for example, my mom would say that my brother ran around the house "like a banshee." 

But before I posted my hilarious story for the blogosphere I thought it might be prudent to actually look up the word banshee & figure out what the heck a banshee is and why my mom used it.  Well, it turns out it's this pretty terrible Irish mythological creature who was an omen of death and wailed.  Somehow this word made it into the English lexicon as urban slang for nutty behaviour.  Seriously?  This is all I could think - seriously?  How the heck did my little momma, wife and daughter of a minister, end up using this pretty creepy term to describe hyperactive children behaviour?  I certainly have no interest in using it in my jargon anymore. 

This, in my streams of consciousness mentality (which I will not subject you to often because it truly is a train wreck of an experience), led me to think - why was my first thought, "Seriously?"  In fact, my first thought was "seriously?" at least a dozen times this weekend.  Freely given parenting advice from the in-laws - "seriously, have you had 14 mo old triplets?"  My husband deciding after the first day at the farm we'd leave earlier than we'd originally planned - "seriously, what do you think I've been telling you about taking toddling triplets to a very uncontained space?"  My youngest laughing so hard during his Christmas Eve bath that he literally laughed the poop right out of himself - "seriously, you are freakin' hysterical!"  Quickly followed up with, "seriously, on top of everything now I have to disinfect all our bath toys and bathtub?" 

This led me to my above-titled gratitude for Grey's Anatomy.  If you are not a fan of the show, then you probably don't utter "seriously" in every other thought you have during the day.  Even my mom (also a fan) says it all the time.  What did we do before Grey's Anatomy?  What word could possibly appropriately capture that emotion if Meredith Grey had not popularized the term, "seriously?"  I mean, seriously, what word did I use - I guess I used "really."  "Really - have you had 14 mo old triplets?"  Do you see what I mean, this does not have the same ring AT ALL!  What else could we use?  My mind is a blank.  This term is absolutely PERFECT for almost every single emotion that you need to begin with an emphatic punctuation. 

So drop the use of the term banshee and start using seriously if you don't already use it regularly.  Except, now what will we replace the term banshee with?  "Running around like a _________....."  "Screaming like a ____________....."  Maybe I'll write the creators of Grey's and see if they can come up with a term for that too.