Thursday, December 13, 2012

Thoughts and Reflections on Being Midlife...

Tomorrow I turn 40.

It is here. No turning back.  I am literally hours from my 40th birthday. And I dont know what to do.  I am cleaning the house per usual.  I am washing dishes and paying bills and all the while in the back of my mind I am thinking:

Tomorrow I turn 40.

I am also having PMS, which is so unfortunate for everyone involved.  When my dear husband realized these two events were culminating on the same weekend he deemed them "the perfect storm." He then asked, quietly, with both love and fear in his eyes..."What should I do?"

Tomorrow I turn 40.

40. The same age my mom was when I was 19. But she was so...old. Is this how she felt? She felt like she was young and hip and full of life and surely only 29, or 33 tops? Because I am still young! I am not a "ma'am!" I am not "Mrs. Corrona!" (well, I am, but you know what I mean..) This is all so weird. I was just 30. I blinked my eyes, (or is it 'blunk' my eyes? or 'blanked' my eyes? It's already happening, improper grammar usage... another casualty of age) and had gray hairs and wrinkles and "mom arms" and, well, other stuff.

I am sitting at my computer dressed, with a towel on my head, having just showered; having just contemplated the meaning of this monumental day that is so quickly approaching.  Every minute another piece of my youthful self disappearing in the sands of time. (It seems I am becoming more dramatic by the minute, too...)

Tomorrow I turn 40.

I already know it will be just another day.  Really, nothing will change.  I will (God willing) awaken as usual, get kids off to school, do some dishes, and live another day.  But I will be 40.  F-O-R-T-Y. for-tay. fordee. no longer 39,

Tomorrow I turn 40.


Wednesday, August 8, 2012


Typically when summer ends and the school year begins I am excited. I am so looking forward to the time alone; time spent accomplishing tasks I have put off the last three months because they are just too difficult to tackle with the kids under foot.  And because the summer offers me such little independence, and those dog days seem to last forever, about a month in I will often resort to hiding in the bathroom to finish a good book, or pulling weeds and mowing the lawn for some "peace and quiet." I begin to wonder how I will possibly make it through the summer? How can I make it through the day?

But something happened this year during that last week before school.  I began to realize how much I would miss them.  As difficult as those summer days could be, on the night before school I found myself teary-eyed and sad to see them go.  And after they boarded the bus that next morning I found the house terribly quiet, and I was felt very alone.  It was such wonderful wake up call to the fact that one day my girls would be moving on and the days of them running through the house making a racket would soon come to an end.  And I would not be seeing them for days or weeks at a time and that would be good because they will have gone forth on their own as every child should, but it would also be terribly difficult to see them go.  And it reminded me of these words I had once read by Dr. James Dobson that meant so much before, but have suddenly left a profound impact on my life.  

Dr James Dobson, "Night Light for Parents"
(please excuse the funny way this transfered over to my blog:)





Friday, July 27, 2012

1st World Problems.

I have found that one of the most difficult things about being a mother is the lack of time alone.  And the second most difficult thing about it is getting your husband to understand that.  I know I don't do a lot of "work," and that most husbands spend hours a day fighting the good fight to bring home a paycheck to feed their families.  I know that it is a privilege to even have a partner to share parenting duties with, and a blessing to be able to stay home with my kids.  I love my kids.  I would give my life for my kids.  But I still need time alone.  Time that does not involve meeting any other person's needs.

Recently (5 minutes ago) Nate and I became frustrated with each other over this "need for time alone."  The conversation went something like this.

Me: "Sometime in the next few days can I just have some time alone? Time to go do whatever?"
Nate: "Yeah...sure.  How about tomorrow (Saturday) morning before swim lessons."
Me: "Swim lessons start at 11:30.  I'd rather take some time when there isnt a deadline on when I have to be home."
Nate: "I always have to come home too.  I dont think it is possible to not have a time to be home."
Me: "What I mean is, that feels rushed.  I'd rather do it some other time."
Nate: "You are getting ready to have 5 days a week of free time with school starting soon."
Me: "I know, but it has been a long summer without any free time.  I just want to be alone to do my own thing. Why are you getting frustrated?"
Nate: "Because I just had a hard week of work and I am frustrated that you..."


At that point I said something about it not being a good time to talk about this, and he agreed.  But Im thinking we are not alone in these conversations.  I am thinking there are a lot of husbands and wives having this conversations.  I dont have a concrete reason for my request, I just know that it is something I need. It has nothing to do with shirking my responsibilities or thinking my work is somehow more difficult or tiresome than his.  It has to do with taking care of myself so that I can continue to meet all of the other needs that are before me each day. And now I have had some time alone writing this post. And now I feel refreshed enough to go tackle the BBQ chicken dinner my family is waiting on.  And now I will be a much more pleasant wife and mother to be around. Because I had some time alone.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Something to Smile About


There has been so much sadness in the world lately I wanted to post something that might, for just a moment, offer a bit of relief from the madness.  I have always been a fan of Jerry Seinfeld's work, and Nate recently came across this new venture of his "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee." We found it thoroughly enjoyable and are looking forward to his next installment.  Let me know what you think! (ps if you cant view it here go to this link.)



Sunday, July 22, 2012

a list



My lovely sister in law Andrea recently posted a list at her blog titled "things I miss." I love her list and hope you will read all of it's goodness over at hulaseventy.  Here are a few things I miss:


~ having family all together, often
~ the fresh air of my hometown
~ learning new things regularly
~ dance classes
~ the Walla Walla Balloon Stampede



Friday, July 20, 2012

Life Goes On

Me at 23, in Alaska


I am still on the path to 40.  Yep.  No looking back now, it is really happening.  And real soon.  Before I know it I will be, officially, 40.  And there's an awful lot I have experienced over the past 40 years.  I vaguely remember choking on a lifesaver about the age of 5.  I mean really choking--to the point of almost passing out.  And being turned upside down by someone and whacked on the back until that tiny (ironically called) "lifesaver" flew out of my mouth and onto the floor.  And I remember 1st grade at Edison Elementary, with Mrs. Drumheller as my teacher.  Mrs. Drumheller who sent a note home to my parents saying I was bossy and talked too much.  I also ripped the shirt off of a little boy that year while playing chase on the playground, and I split my chin open in P.E.  I guess '79 wasn't a great year for me.

I also remember that in 2nd grade Mrs. Kerr would occasionally show up to class with a wig on and say she was Mrs. something-or-other. And I just knew it was Mrs. Kerr, but she would never admit it.  And the following year I had the frightening Mr. Marshall with white junk forever stuck to the sides of his mouth. I heard he was later fired for some sort of losing his temper on a kid. Fourth and fifth grade were spent at Blue Ridge, a brand new, state of the art school that was half underground.  Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" and The Go-Go's "Beauty and the Beat" were the soundtracks to that season of life.  And while the cool kids were breakdancing at recess I was awkward and backwards, big teeth and glasses. Not a great look for me. Not cool at all.

By sixth grade I had upgraded to glasses that tinted to sunglasses when outside.  This is clearly evident in the beginning of the year picture my teacher took of each of us on the jungle gym. Only 2 pairs of glasses were tinted in the photos--the teacher's and mine. Im pretty sure this was not the message I wanted to send to my new class at Prospect Point. The glasses were gone by Christmas.

I recall a lot of neon on clothes and shoes and socks that year, and paint splatters were in.  And I had my first boyfriends. There was a lot of bike riding and kick the can til dark.  And Wham! and Bananarama. And Little League.  Both playing and watching the boys play. And then more bike riding.

Big sweaters and jean jackets seem to define Garrison Jr. High for me.  Hair was getting big then, too--literally and figuratively. I hated dressing down for PE. And somehow I found myself locked into the position of french braiding the "bully girl's" hair before class every day.  Not sure how I got myself into that pickle, but I think it actually got me out of a few jams that year.  She was one tough cookie! The school dance once a month was the best time ever, and then after we would walk over to Abby's Pizza and hang out til our parents picked us up. I remember that sense of freedom, and also the naivete, of being young and out at night and with your favorite people in the world--or as jr. high goes--your favorite people in the world for that moment.

High school came and went in the blink of an eye.  I spent way too much time concentrating on friends and boys than on my school work.  I remember barely passing my driver's test by 2 points, and graduating with a C in Pottery and an A in Advanced English.  I still can't believe I was worse at Pottery than English! I made an ocean of bad decisions in high school, and very few good ones. Thinking back on those years I am filled with regret.  It should have been an amazing time in my life, and I wish I had spent more time treasuring it and the people around me.

Five years of college, work and marriage defined my 20's.  My 30's have been all about raising a family. And now, my 40's...

Recently Nate and I were talking about the John Mellencamp song "Jack and Diane" and how we totally get now what he sings about in the chorus: "Oh yeah, life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone." And sometimes that is how it feels.  Like the good ole days have long since passed and the thrill of living is gone.  The drudgery of adulthood sets in and I wonder, ""What happened to those glory days of my youth?"  They disappeared so quickly and I never fully appreciated them while experiencing them.

I have nothing at all to complain about. My life truly has become all I ever wanted it to be.  I am astonished by what God has done.  But I do sometimes wonder what happens next.  I used to dread growing older, but Im kind of getting excited about it now. I think it could be a bit of a new adventure. And that means something to look forward to. So Im looking forward. Just a little.



Saturday, July 14, 2012

sad flower

photo by curious_spider on flickr


Ive been in a sort of melancholy haze the last couple of weeks. Ive been the deflated balloon after the party. A Bill Murray character from a Wes Anderson film.  The forlorn Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall, but without the hunky jawline.  A sagging flower after the rain.  A lonely sock lost behind the dryer without it's mate.  A hot dog without a bun.  Like tennis shoes abandoned on an electrical wire.  Or a dried up marker trying to scratch out some words. A neck hole on a shirt that's lost it's shape.  A towel left out in the rain.  The way you feel after hearing Bonnie Raitt sing "i cant make you love me".  And you were totally happy right before she sang it. Im like a roll without butter, sad and boring. Curled up on the floor like Edward without Bella. Like cornflakes without the milk...Im in a funk.

Monday, July 9, 2012

The Buffer Post

After my last post it is a bit difficult to decide what to write about next.  Nate suggested a "buffer post" to kinda segue to a lighter topic.  I liked the sound of it.  But I must admit I am not at all accustomed to using buffers.  In fact, Nate and I had a very buffer-less discussion tonight about my lack of buffering skills.  It seems at times I am not capable of being, as the dictionary defines it, "1. Something that lessens or absorbs the shock of an impact." Rather, I quite naturally deliver the full blow--with added gusto.  So, you can imagine my difficulty in finding an appropriate topic for my buffer post, being the not-so-buffered woman that I am.

Tonight's discussion with Nate centered around that fact that I was not able to contain my emotions/thoughts/feelings/hand gestures/bug-eyed-ness/forehead gripping/subtle coughs/huffs/head shakes/eye rolls (body language in general) at a time when he needed me to be the "peace" or "smoother-over" in the situation.  And he was perfectly right.  I seem to have absolutely no control over hiding my feelings.  I can hold my tongue and fight back words, but my body will find a way to manifest what I am thinking and feeling by whatever means are necessary.  I am entirely too transparent.

My problem lies in that when I mask or hide my emotions I literally feel like I am lying.  I feel as though I am pretending to be someone I am not.  It's as though I am being fake.  My mind cannot make sense of the false behavior I am exhibiting and I either escape the situation or slowly begin to dribble out my true feelings.  When witnessed by my closest friends there is no dribble. Instead they get what is often compared to a volcanic eruption of deep thoughts; a sort of messy spewing forth of feelings and emotions. Not in anger, but more as an unraveling of "truth ribbon" from it's neat and tidy spool into a pile on the floor.

I am not necessarily proud of this character trait.  I would much prefer to be the mysterious friend who cannot be read.  And I know others would probably prefer that as well.  But I do find one positive to being this way, and that is that I am real.  And also very animated.

Friday, July 6, 2012

I am writing again.  I have been having little moments that turn into stories in my head and that is what had been missing.  I had been missing the inspiration to go forward with the moment; the inspiration to grow the moment into something worth sharing.  But the past few weeks the desire to write again has returned. 

Last week we made the trip to Illinois to visit my husband's parents.  I love them dearly--his whole family--but I love his parents in a special way because they have been second parents to me.  They are a wonderful couple, great parents, and the kind of grandparents every kid should have.  But for all of the joy the trip had to offer there was also an underlying current of sorrow because Nate's mother is battling cancer. 

The week flew by more quickly than I had expected and before I knew it we were saying our good-byes.  It was especially difficult because, living so far away, we are never quite sure when we will be able to make the drive again as a family.  So distance and illness made saying good-bye even harder.  But there was a moment in those good-byes--a beautiful, secret, life altering moment for me--that I cannot erase from my mind.  And I have replayed it again and again, willing myself to never forget it.  Like a slow motion shot from a film, I can see the short scene play out and I am moved to tears.

I stood behind Nate as he bent to hug and kiss his mom, his beautiful mom who has poured her life into her children and husband as most mothers do.  The love he has for her has always been true and I know he wishes he could fight this battle for her.  And as I watched, she reached her tired little arms around his big, strong neck and whispered in his ear, "My sweet, sweet son."

And with those words she struck my heart, and I will be forever grateful.  In that moment I saw my husband through her eyes, the eyes of a loving mother. I saw her nurturing him in his youth, loving him and caring for him, and I was reminded that he is more than just my husband.  He was once someone's child. And I felt a great gift had been given to me.  Not only had this man chosen me, but his mother had handed me one of her greatest loves to care for and honor and respect and treasure as she had.  I felt a great responsibility to her, as a fellow mother, to treat her child as I would hope my own child would one day be treated by their love.  I felt compelled to do better, to try harder, to love deeper and forgive more, not only because of the great man Nate is, but because he was, and will always be, a gift from another mother to me.




Wednesday, March 28, 2012

I Dont Have it All Together (and a facelift wont change that.)



This is going to seem like a ridiculous post, because it is filled with special requests I have should I lose my mind as I continue aging.  But some of the trends for Hollywood stars and older women these days are freaking me out! I dont want to succumb to the pressure and make some irrational decision that will change me for the rest of my life.  I am afraid that the women in Hollywood are so encapsulated in their little world that they do not realize that to the rest of us, they are looking like freaks from (inserting Hunger Games reference here) The Capital! So without further ado, here is my list of "please stop me if I..." requests.

1. I cannot always tell the difference between botox and a face lift, by my goodness, many celebrities are beginning to look a bit Stepford!  Madonna, Helen Hunt, Nicole Kidman, Courtney Cox and others have all begun to drastically change in appearance.  Even Sandra Bullock looked different at the latest awards show.  I am beginning to wonder if so many people surrounding them are getting it done that they are assuming it is the new "must do" without realizing how shocking it is to the rest of the world.  I saw a great post from Alyssa Milano on Twitter recently that said something to the affect of "when you get a face lift you dont look younger, you just look like you have had a face lift." Well put! I hope she can withstand the pressure to go under the knife and simply age gracefully.  While I would love to have a few wrinkles erased, I fear more the changing of my entire appearance in the process! Seems to me the results are of greater concern than the actual wrinkles. 

2. I hate to pick on Madonna, but her Superbowl halftime show was the perfect example of my next request.  Do not allow me to dance and frolic around in a corset and fishnet stockings, climbing on younger men's shoulders, as my teenage daughters stand by mortified.  Sometimes I forget how old I really am, and I try to pull off some outfit that is really more appropriate for a 20 something girl.  I get it that it happens.  I have a momentary lapse of judgement and then when I have to unbutton the jeans to breathe, or change the shirt to allow room for my fuller stomach I am immediately reminded that things are shifting and changing and rather than force my middle aged body into the teenage clothes of my youth, I should just purchase new, age appropriate items.  That is not to say I cant still dance and frolic, I just dont want to be wearing things my own teenagers wouldnt be caught in.  Or climbing on the shoulders of their school mates when I have a hard enough time stepping up onto a bleacher.  Just saying.

3. Finally, please stop me if I begin resorting to odd behavior in hopes of appearing glamorous or sexy.  I felt for Angelina Jolie and her "leg bombing" fiasco because we all know we do it.  We figure out there is a perfect way to stand to hide our not-so-perfect flaws.  We have a "picture smile" that comes out every time we stand in front of the camera.  And I cannot imagine what it must be like to be photographed every day, everywhere you go.  No wonder she rehearsed that pose until she found the exact way she wanted be seen, and then used that pose for every photo op thereafter.  She looked good, but the pose came across as it's own entity. Something fake, and unnatural.  Sometimes I feel like I am heading down that road.  Wanting to always be seen in the best light.  But then I remember that it is in revealing my flaws (or should I say, in not trying to be perfect) that I become more real.  We arent always standing perfectly with one hand on a hip and one beautifully long and lean leg thrust out of a sky high slit.  We are moms who dont have stylists and hairdressers.  We spend most of our time at Walmart and Target and will be lucky if we make it on camera or to an awards show. And that is ok.  I dont have it all together and that's ok.  And a facelift or sexy leg wont change that.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

More on Trayvon Martin

I wish I could have so eloquently stated my feelings on the subject as Pastor John Piper does in this piece. I hope you will take the time to read it and other informative discussions on the killing of Trayvon Martin. My friend Kristen Howerton posted a great list of resources and personal reactions at her blog that you might find helpful as we learn more and more about this young mans death.

Friday, March 23, 2012

A Short Discussion on Race (inspired by Trayvon)

I feel some sort of need to add to my credentials on this subject matter before I begin.  However I dont really have any.  I am a white girl born in a predominantly white town who grew up with just a few African American friends.  After college I met and married a guy who was/is a hip-hop DJ and that was my first real look into black culture, black music, and differences and similarities between our lives.  One of Nate's first music partners, a (black) guy named Mike, was and will always be one of my dearest friends.  The relationship was so honest, and Mike never shied away from conversation about anything.  I had a lot of really interesting discussions with him about life and "color." And I attribute a lot of my later friendships with African American guys and girls to that valuable time spent building our friendship. I didnt consider Mike in terms of "black" and I dont think he put much on me being "white." We were just friends.  He was like a big brother to me. I would have trusted him with my life. And that is why I was absolutely astonished the day he and Nate were rehearsing and the cops showed up. 

Mike had been listening to Nate's music in his car out front of our apartment.  He was the MC of the group so he needed some quiet to space to write.  Apparently a neighbor called the cops because of a suspicious guy parked our front, and the cops cuffed Mike and brought him to our door asking if the story he was giving (about working with us) was true.  I was completely shocked.  Mike? Suspicious? What kind of neighborhood were we living in where I guy couldnt listen to music in his car because the color of his skin was suspicious? Mike was more intelligent and well read than me--heck, he made more money than Nate and I and lived in a better neighborhood! I couldnt believe the ridiculousness of it all.

But that was only the beginning.  We traveled as a group to different spots in the country--some areas with a great mix of people, and some with all black, all white, or all Latino crowds.  It was an awesome experience to be taken out of my comfort zone and to be the minority on many occasions.  White girl with blue eyes stands out in inner city Chicago.  Or in the Bronx.  Or in certain areas of Houston, TX.  And it was awkward at times.  And I felt nervous at times.  Not so much because I was afraid of the people around me, but because I was afraid of what the people around me had experienced from white people.  And I was afraid that those experiences would be assumed upon me. I cared what they thought of me.  I wanted to be judged by my own behavior, not by the behaviors of people who happened to look like me.  I prayed that I might some how change someone's perspective of the stereotypical white girl in America.  I dont know if I did.  But I know what it feels like to want to be judged not by the color of my skin and the sins of those who have shared it, but on the content of my character, and the way I live and breathe in that skin. 


I see the posts and discussions taking place on the recent murder of Trayvon Martin and I am both encouraged and discouraged at the same time.  I am encouraged to see the great outpouring of concern and determination to have justice served in this case.  I am glad that his needless death is being talked about and the community is being forced to do something.  But I am also discouraged by some of what I read.  One post from a black writer said, "when blacks stand together whites run scared!" What does that mean? I dont see how white's running scared helps the situation at all--if anything it continues the stereotyping that lead to this horrible incident to begin with.  I am glad to see people come together, but nobody should be running scared--that is what is wrong with the whole situation that went down. Another post by a white writer discussed how he will "never look suspicious" because he is white and has therefore lived a privileged life. I happen to disagree.  As a female, if I meet any guy alone in a dark alley--black, white, brown or purple--I am going to be suspicious.  This is the world we live in.  I dont care if the guy has a hood on or not, I am turning around and walking the other way.  I am suspicious not because of the guy's skin color, but because I am a woman who doesnt know the guy approaching her.  So I am glad that we are talking--we need to talk about this--but Im not sure all that is being discussed is beneficial to the cause.

I really dont have any grand solutions.  I know that in my life, it has served me well to believe that we are all created in God's image.  I know that stereotypes exist and unfortunately we all fall into a few of them.  Im a white girl from a small town. Im married to a white guy and have white kids.  If you read "Stuff White People Like" you could probably find a lot that fits me.  But my life experiences go much deeper than that.  I am more than the color of my skin. And maybe if I try to treat others with the same understanding it will make a difference in this world.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

These Are A Few of My Favorite Fears...

5. I am irrationally afraid of a bee or some sort of bug flying or crawling into my ear(s). I think this fear may have come from stories my mom would bring home from work when I was a kid.  She worked for an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor and Im telling you people...it happens...and more often than you think. Keep the covers pulled up at night.

4. Food poisoning.  I had food poisoning once as a kid and it was so awful I have never recovered from the trauma of it.  If I am even remotely suspicious of a food I cant eat it.  If I get a funny feeling just by looking at it, it's over. 

3. Doctor's offices.  Oh the germs.  I am like a crazy mom when I take my kids to the doctor.  All of the sickness and sneezes and strep and whatever else we take our kids to the doctor's office for.  No thank you.

2. Sugar drinks.  I know this sounds ridiculous coming from a person who loves candy and ice cream, but for some reason I draw the line at sugar drinks.  I have no problem with Little Debbie's or popcicles or even fruit snacks, but I cringe when my kids have a soda.  No idea why. 

1. Weather.  Tornadoes, hurricanes, crazy thunder and lightning... living in the South has freaked me out.  Not to mention the tsunamis and earthquakes devastating the earth of late.  My biggest fear growing up in the Northwest was a dust storm.  Or snow.  Nowadays when I am stressed my dreams are filled with massive tsunamis, or tornadoes, or huge waves that slam against the hotel and leave me frantically grasping for my children.

The weather is unpredictable, uncontrollable and crazy powerful. So are germs.  And all kinds of "bugs" can wreak havoc on our lives.  Most of my biggest fears are things I cant control--so I suppose it's really "having no control" that is my fear.  Not being able to control what happens to me and my loved ones.  (Not sure how soda fits in to this analogy except that I want to control what my kids drink:) So I guess this is where my faith is put to the test.  All of these things can happen. The question is whether or not I can trust that God wont just "keep me safe" but that He knows what is best.  Even if a bee flies into my ear.  Even if I get food poisoning. Even if my kids drink soda. And even if I should be swept away by a massive wave.  Can I trust that in everything--not just what I cant control but even what I can and do try to control, is better in His hands? That's the real struggle.

Monday, March 19, 2012

shirking responsibility

im doing it right now.  trying with all my might to not do what I am supposed to be doing today. originally I was planning to go to the gym then run real quickly to the grocery store, be home by 11am and get going on my duties for the day. it is now 12:09 and I have a stack of bills to go through, tax stuff to prepare, and a house in desperate need of straightening.  since arriving home I have so far enjoyed a leisurely lunch of nachos followed by a delicious dessert of jelly beans (that were bought for the kids, of course.) I have checked on all of the happenings at facebook, stopped by Drudge Report, and caught up on Twitter.  At approximately 12:05 I walked into the messy kitchen and put away my lunch supplies, quick grabbed a second handful of jelly beans, then darted back to the bedroom and sat down once again in front of the computer. it is now 12:13 and I am weighing my options.  the desk is still a complete mess, I have 3 hours before I need to pick up the kids, and I am seriously considering a run to Target.  What for? I have no idea.  I just dont want to address the mess.  sometimes i dont want to put on my big girl britches.  sometimes I dont want to do anything.  these are called adult tantrums. it is now 12:20.
12:23.
12:24.
12:25.
12:26.
im heading to Target. :) 

Happy Monday!

Here's something fun to start your week off with... we giggled about it all weekend. :) 

Friday, March 16, 2012

Micah 6:8

Below is commentary from one of my favorite Bible teachers, David Guzik, on the well known verse from Micah 6:8.  I have always loved this verse, but upon reading it got to wondering just what God meant by "do justly" and "love mercy." The verse says this is "what is good and what God requires of me." That means it is expected of me.  The dictionary defines required as,  "to claim or ask for by right and authority." So it isnt as though God is just suggesting this way of living, but He is claiming by His authority that this is how we ought to live.  If I have decided to follow Him and have given Him authority in my life, then it is God's right to ask this of me.

This made it personal and got me thinking... do I "do justly" and "love mercy" and do I "walk humbly with God?" I needed more information on just what was expected of me.  That's when I went to David Guzik's commentary to see what he might add after much study of the verse.  And what I found will hopefully encourage you as it has encouraged me.


 Micah 6:8
"He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?"
a. He has shown you: “You act as if it is some mystery what I require of you. In point of fact it is no mystery at all. I have shown you clearly what is good and what I require of you.”
b. To do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God: The Lord answers the contentious witness in open court. “What I require of you isn’t complicated. Simply do three things.”
c. Do justly: “Act in a just, fair way towards others. Treat them they way you want to be treated.”
d. Love mercy: “Don’t just show mercy, but love to show it. Give others the same measure of mercy you want to receive from the Me.”
e. Walk humbly with your God: “Remember who I am - your God. If you keep that in mind, you will walk humbly before Me.”
i. “I would not advise any of you to try to be humble, but to be humble. As to acting humbly, when a man forces himself to it, that is poor stuff. When a man talks a great deal about his humility, when he is very humble to everybody, he is generally a canting hypocrite. Humility must be in the heart, and then it will come out spontaneously as the outflow of life in every act that a man performs.” (Spurgeon)
ii. Spurgeon’s sermon Micah’s Message for Today applied the idea of how to walk humbly with your God:
  • Walk humbly when you are spiritually strong
  • Walk humbly when you have much work to do
  • Walk humbly in all your motives
  • Walk humbly studying God’s word
  • Walk humbly when under trials
  • Walk humbly in your devotions
  • Walk humbly between you and your brothers in Christ
  • Walk humbly when dealing with sinners
iii. “True humility is thinking rightly of thyself, not meanly. When you have found out what you really are, you will be humble, for you are nothing to boast of. To be humble will make you safe. To be humble will make you happy. To be humble will make music in your heart when you go to bed. To be humble here will make you wake up in the likeness of your Master by-and-by.” (Spurgeon)

Enjoying some Chicken Grease...join me?

.... Im talking about D'Angelo, "Chicken Grease" and it most definitely gets this weekend rolling! Hope it gets you moving too on such a beautiful day!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Against the Grain

"I want to be scarce," she said to me with eyes brimming with tears.  And in that moment I understood her better than I ever have before. 

My daughter Lux is a beautiful mix of Nate and I.  She has my temperament, deeply emotional and extremely perceptive, combined with Nate's depth of creativity and "tortured" artist's soul.  Always striving for perfection in their work but knowing it is virtually unattainable and so they both live for and abhor the process and outcome of creating. 

It's funny, you know your child better than anyone in this world, yet sometimes they are so hard to figure out.  And such has been the case with Lux.  She is like me in so many ways that I just assume she should want to do things my way, want to love the things I love and be happy with the choices I make for her.  But early on I began to learn she marches to the beat of her own drum.  And so she strives for ways to be different.

She pushes against the mold.  Tries to break from the box.  She doesnt want to be fenced in, she wants to draw outside the lines. She still feels the pressure of her peers, but she is often tortured by the desire to not conform and be her own girl.  She hasnt developed the self confidence yet to truly go for it, but I believe she will.  And that is the struggle.

I believe most of our "conflict" stems from me trying to keep her in the box.  It's a control issue that I am not looking forward to in the teenage years. :) So I am working really hard now to create a proper give and take between us.  She is full of ideas and is a great negotiator for her "rights" and "desires" :) And rather than become overwhelmed and create a dictatorship, I am learning to still maintain control but allow some wiggle room for her need to be free.  Of course Nate is wonderful in this regard because he is so much like her as well.  He understands the need to work late to finish the project she just had to start 30 minutes before bed.  He knows well the frustration of having a brilliant idea but no means of executing it because your mom didnt buy enough scotch tape and your markers have gone dry. He has felt that feeling of creating something completely unique and then having someone copy it and make it their own.

And such was the case the other day.  She sat in her room on her bed and shared her hearts desire to be her own person.  To be different.  To be scarce. And I loved her for it.  Because to me that is one of the bravest things I'd ever heard.  In this world with so much criticism and critiquing I tend to want to blend in.  I dont like to upset the apple cart or draw unwanted attention my way.  But she is not me. She is her own individual and I need to give her room for that.  On the important issues I will always put my foot down, to be sure.  But now I understand that my desire to fit into the mold is not hers, and I will let her spread her wings and be the uniquely gifted girl God created her to be.  I will let her break the mold.  I will let her climb the fence. I will let her glorify God with own passions and desires, not my own.  And I will watch her soar.

Friday, March 9, 2012

40

"40? Oh my gosh, I am turning forty this year..."

These thoughts popped into my mind as I was approaching the girls' school today to volunteer.  I was actually thinking through what had happened on the episode of The Bachelor last night (it was the "women tell all" where they get together to discuss just how crazy it was to be "in love" with the same  guy.  But that is a WHOLE different story for a whole different post.) Anyway, I was thinking about the different girls and it for some reason hit me, all of sudden, like a ton of bricks...I am turning 40.  The girls on the show are about 25.  And I am turning 40.  I am such a mom age.  I am no longer the girl I envision in my mind when I picture myself.  I am middle aged. I will never again be "thirtysomething." I am turning 40.

When did this happen? Just a couple of years ago I was in college.  I was married not that long ago. I am really the age my mom was when I was a senior in high school? This cant be possible.  It happened so fast. 40.

I actually feel like I "get" life finally, and am more satisfied with it than I have ever been before. I am happy with who I have become and where my life is headed. But I also still feel 10 years younger than I am, (in my mind at least.) 40? Really?

So now my focus will be, what am I going to do about it? I can either spend the next year reminiscing about time wasted in years gone by, or spend it deciding who this 40 year old woman will be.  I already know a few answers to that question.  She will be more confident than the younger version of herself.  She will be more capable of handling what life throws her way.  She will care more for others (out of desire but also out of necessity) than she ever has in her lifetime. And she will press on.  Because no one likes a pouty, sour-faced 40 year old. She will hike up her almost-40-year-old britches and throw on her hipster Target brand Wellies and trudge thru the muck and mire (i.e. fear and denial)  to cross into that new decade of her existence. Because it is coming at her like a rising tsunami whether she likes it or not. 

The earth has shaken and the tide has gone out, and the big wave is rising before me and I can either run and be overtaken regardless, or stand in awe and embrace the wave as it fully devours me and moves me to a place I've never been. 

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Motherhood as a Mission Field

There is a good old saying, perhaps only said by my Grandfather, that distance adds intrigue. It is certainly true — just think back to anything that has ever been distant from you that is now near. Your driver’s license. Marriage. Children. Things that used to seem so fascinating, but as they draw near become less mystical and more, well, real.
This same principle certainly applies to mission fields too. The closer you get to home, the less intriguing the work of sacrifice seems. As someone once said, “Everyone wants to save the world, but no one wants to help Mom with the dishes.” When you are a mother at home with your children, the church is not clamoring for monthly ministry updates. When you talk to other believers, there is not any kind of awe about what you are sacrificing for the gospel. People are not pressing you for needs you might have, how they can pray for you. It does not feel intriguing, or glamorous. Your work is normal, because it is as close to home as you can possibly be. You have actually gone so far as to become home.

Home: The Headwaters of Mission

If you are a Christian woman who loves the Lord, the gospel is important to you. It is easy to become discouraged, thinking that the work you are doing does not matter much. If you were really doing something for Christ you would be out there, somewhere else, doing it. Even if you have a great perspective on your role in the kingdom, it is easy to lose sight of it in the mismatched socks, in the morning sickness, in the dirty dishes. It is easy to confuse intrigue with value, and begin viewing yourself as the least valuable part of the Church.
There are a number of ways in which mothers need to study their own roles, and begin to see them, not as boring and inconsequential, but as home, the headwaters of missions.
At the very heart of the gospel is sacrifice, and there is perhaps no occupation in the world so intrinsically sacrificial as motherhood. Motherhood is a wonderful opportunity to live the gospel. Jim Elliot famously said, “He is no fool who gives up that which he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” Motherhood provides you with an opportunity to lay down the things that you cannot keep on behalf of the people that you cannot lose. They are eternal souls, they are your children, they are your mission field.

Faith Makes the Small Offering Great

If you are like me, then you may be thinking “What did I ever give up for them? A desk job? Time at the gym? Extra spending money? My twenty- year- old figure? Some sleep?” Doesn’t seem like much when you put it next to the work of some of the great missionaries, people who gave their lives for the gospel.
Think about the feeding of the five thousand when the disciples went out and rounded up the food that was available. It wasn’t much. Some loaves. Some fish. Think of some woman pulling her fish out and handing it to one of the disciples. That had to have felt like a small offering. But the important thing about those loaves and those fishes was not how big they were when they were given, it was about whose hands they were given into. In the hands of the Lord, that offering was sufficient. It was more than sufficient. There were leftovers. Given in faith, even a small offering becomes great.
Look at your children in faith, and see how many people will be ministered to by your ministering to them. How many people will your children know in their lives? How many grandchildren are represented in the faces around your table now?

Gain What You Cannot Lose in Them

So, if mothers are strategically situated to impact missions so greatly, why do we see so little coming from it?  I think the answer to this is quite simple: sin. Discontent, pettiness, selfishness, resentment. Christians often feel like the right thing to do is to be ashamed about what we have. We hear that quote of Jim Elliot’s and think that we ought to sell our homes and move to some place where they need the gospel.
But I’d like to challenge you to look at it differently. Giving up what you cannot keep does not mean giving up your home, or your job so you can go serve somewhere else. It is giving up yourself. Lay yourself down. Sacrifice yourself here, now. Cheerfully wipe the nose for the fiftieth time today. Make dinner again for the people who don’t like the green beans. Laugh when your plans are thwarted by a vomiting child. Lay yourself down for the people here with you, the people who annoy you, the people who get in your way, the people who take up so much of your time that you can’t read anymore. Rejoice in them. Sacrifice for them. Gain that which you cannot lose in them.
It is easy to think you have a heart for orphans on the other side of the world, but if you spend your time at home resenting the imposition your children are on you, you do not. You cannot have a heart for the gospel and a fussiness about your life at the same time. You will never make any difference there if you cannot be at peace here. You cannot have a heart for missions, but not for the people around you. A true love of the gospel overflows and overpowers. It will be in everything you do, however drab, however simple, however repetitive.
God loves the little offerings. Given in faith, that plate of PB&J’s will feed thousands. Given in faith, those presents on Christmas morning will bring delight to more children than you can count. Offered with thankfulness, your work at home is only the beginning. Your laundry pile, selflessly tackled daily, will be used in the hands of God to clothe many. Do not think that your work does not matter. In God’s hands, it will be broken, and broken, and broken again, until all who have need of it have eaten and are satisfied. And even then, there will be leftovers.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Fireflies

We are enjoying singing this wonderfully pleasant song around the Corrona household. <3 Owl City

Monday, March 5, 2012

Nine Years!

Our sweet Lux Sophia turns 9 today, so I am celebrating her life by sharing some of my favorite pictures of our beautiful girl. 






HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE!

Friday, March 2, 2012

He's a Dream(er)

I have a husband who thinks big. Really big.  In fact he often thinks so outside the box that I literally have to grab the box, run after him, and try to box back up his thinking.  We have often joked that this world obviously needs big dreamers, like him, to expand our horizons and accomplish what was thought impossible. And then we also need realists, like me, to grab hold of the dreamers' ankles, pop their dream balloon, and bring them back down to earth.

Just for fun I thought I might share a few of his "big ideas" over the years.  Many of these ideas drew me closer to God through much prayer and petition that they might not come to fruition.  And just to be clear, Im not exaggerating. :)

 One of the most interesting trips I ever took as the wife of a dreamer was when we decided it was time to put our house for sale and move to a more family friendly area.  I was so looking forward to living a hop skip and a jump from the grocery store, Walmart, Target, and church. I began dreaming of our new home, with a great backyard for the kids to run and play.  Maybe even a basement! And so Nate began the search.  And search he did! He spent hours looking for the perfect place that was affordable, yet private, and had that certain style he loves.  So when we sat down to discuss some of the options, this is what he presented me with:  a train car home.


(There are more photos here)
Now dont get me wrong, I like quirky. I dont mind being a little different from the norm.  And I actually do think this train car looks beautiful. But imagine my shock when I sat down thinking we were taking a look at regular, already built, standard homes in a good school district....! And he didnt just come with one photo.  No, he had examined the pricing, looked for lots that were for sale that could sustain the train car style of living, priced them, and even had a few picked out.  I wish I had that conversation on tape to play back for you because I can only imagine what was said! But this is not the only occasion I have been surprised by a husband who marches to the beat of his own drum. Not by far. :)

One of my first moments of realization that life with Nate would not be simple and ordinary came just after our engagement. Nate decided he needed a new car.  His old jeep-type vehicle had a lot of miles on it and was in need of repair, so why not start our marriage out with something new?  Something with low miles. That could hold a future family. And fit his unique desires for a car. He wanted to make one last purchase on his own before getting hitched, so he started the search.  And settled on this:
a black, 1965 Lincoln Continental with suicide doors. Like this one here, but without the fancy wheels. And I get it.  It is a beautiful car.  It was all Nate, and fit him to a T. But it was not at all what I'd had in mind as our family car...:o Yes, the car was roomy, and yes, affordable.  But boy was it a beast to park in our tiny uphill driveway! And it was not the most practical car to run around in, what with a top speed of 50mph and windows that didn't roll down. But he sure loved it.

Oh my sweet husband, I must say that initially these kinds of impractical desires scared me to death! I really did wonder at times, what would be next! But over the years I have learned that not every dream has a crazy result in the end.  And some dreams are worth pursuing.  And I think Nate has learned that too.  His dreams allow me to experience life with feet off the ground, and my practical thinking keeps him from flying too high. :)

Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Doldrums

You know, the mood where life seems extremely monotonous and a bit like Groundhogs Day (the film, not the actual day... the actual day would be no big deal...unless the groundhog saw his shadow and there were 6 more weeks of winter...then I would definitely be in a mood...but not this same mood, a different, anxiety ridden, panicked sort of mood...but this mood is more like the mood of the film...less anxious, more "desperate to get out of the monotony" sort of a mood...but I digress...)

I love my life, I really, really do.  And I say that not to convince myself because I am already thoroughly convinced.  I love my life.  I could not ask for more.  Seriously.  I am the kind of girl who is pretty much content.  Not high maintenance or needy, (at least according to my own opinion,) but pretty ok with things.  I just get so bored at times! There is so much to be done but it's all been done before.  I'm talking about the laundry and the toilets and the dishes and grocery shopping, and the regular routine of just about every day.  Ive done it all, and honestly, it's not all that.  It's pretty mundane. Don't believe the hype because seriously, as hardcore as it sounds to take everything out of the fridge, wipe it down, and put everything back in it--and not have a single person in the family notice you've cleaned it, mind you--that thing is dirty again by week's end. That high that comes from finishing a monumental task like cleaning the bathroom is gone the minute someone brushes their teeth and leaves toothpaste all over the sink again.

Don't get me wrong, I love the routine. But sometimes, just sometimes, I get really, really bored (insert massive yawn) with it. And I cant figure out how to break the monotony.  So I war inside myself until the mood passes.  And I ponder once again what might ever satisfy the doldrums.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Don't Always "Just Say No"

 A recent blog post by Jon Acuff began with this:


A friend of mine once taught me a brilliant trick for brainstorming.


She runs a team that puts on elaborate theater performances. And each season, she gathers them together to plan the next year’s shows. But do you know who she doesn’t invite to these brainstorming sessions?
The people who build the sets.
Why?
Because they can’t stop saying “no.”


When someone says, “What if we made it snow inside?” their answer is “no.”
When someone says, “What if we found a way to transform the stage into water?” their answer is “no.”
When someone says, “What if all the seats were on the stage and the audience became the performers?” their answer is “no.”


Why do they respond that way? Are they creative or talented or artistic? Of course they are, but they’re focused on executing the idea. Years of building the actual sets have made it difficult for them to step outside of the logistics and details and practicalities of making the sets.


Try as they might, they can’t suspend that part of themselves to allow a free flowing, anything goes brainstorming session.
So my friend doesn’t invite them to the early idea sessions because she knows they can’t help saying, “That will never work.”
And today, I propose that you and I struggle with that same problem.

Now you may read that and think of a number of things that it could apply to.  But all I could hear throughout the entire story was my own voice...my Mom voice...saying "no."

I am the set builder in this story.  I am the one who cannot stop saying "no." But instead of a set builder I am an experienced kid builder.  And "years of building certain systems and standards have made it difficult for me to step outside of the logistics and details and practicalities of building/raising kids."

Try as I might, I can't suspend that part of myself to allow a "free flowing, anything goes brainstorming session." I often shut down my kids' ideas for the day, or desires to build something, or hopes of making a masterpiece because just the thought of what they are dreaming about creating is so unpractical! (And it will never work... and it is not logistical...and it throws off the schedule.) 

Wow. I don't want to be a dream killer (is that dramatic enough?) I want to use my "no's" wisely.  I want to, whenever possible, be a dream encourager, (or at least say "yes" more than "no" when it comes to my kids' ideas.)  I want to pause and think a little more before answering based on my own focus for the day.  I'm going to make some changes.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Lux's Star Wars Party

Lux as Leia, 2010


About a year and a half ago Lux (my 9 year old) was really into Star Wars.  At school a group of kids were playing Star Wars at recess and she began asking questions about the different characters, the storylines in the different movies, and even about the Clone Wars (no idea what those were until she started asking.) So for 6 straight weeks, every Sunday afternoon, Nate and the girls would watch an episode of Star Wars, beginning with the original.

By the time they finished, Lux's infatuation with Star Wars had turned into a major desire to host a Star Wars party with her recess friends.  And her film producer dad was recruited to film the action.  What follows is the exciting tale of what happened that fateful Saturday afternoon in our backyard.

Monday, February 27, 2012

"Shifting Shadows" Priscilla Shirer

Priscilla Shirer is one of my favorite Bible teachers and she has a great blog with some interesting insights over at Going Beyond Ministries. One of her more recent entries caught my attention because she, like me, is getting ready to turn 40.  I related to every point she made and loved the questions she posed at the end of her post titled "Shifting Shadows...and other things that move."

(p.s. Im looking forward to reading her newest book, The Resolution for Women which is a companion to the recently released film, Courageous.)

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Happy Weekend!

Here's something fun to get you smiling on this beautiful Saturday.  Enjoy!

Friday, February 24, 2012

"Proud Zainey"

My daughter Zaine has a performance coming up March 5th and she is so excited. And I cannot wait.  Not only because my girl loves to sing and dance, but because her class is going to be singing "Proud Mary." And not just any version of it, but this version I have posted for you below.  Now, before you get to watching it keep in mind that Kindergarteners-6 yr olds- are going to be singing this version of "Proud Mary" with the opening dialogue and the dance moves.  Yes, they will be dancing too! (instead of the booty shaking they do this running in place while rotating their arms at their sides like a train on the tracks...absolutely adorable.)  And their amazingly creative teacher has been teaching them all kinds of classic hits throughout the year.  And she dances on the desks sometimes. And she has them sing responses to her. And she wears a crown and a queen's robe at times and on those days is referred to as Queen Miller. And Zaine is learning--a lot! And I love her.

So as you watch the video below picture my darling daughter Zaine and her brood of 6 yr old friends singing and dancing along. Because Zaine is all about performing. And hopefully you will smile.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

39 things ~ a scattered post

I sat down to write a list of 39 things I want to do before I turn 40.  I like lists...they are a fun way of examining yourself and setting goals.  But what is funny is that I couldnt come up with 39 things I wanted to do.  My goals kept coming up kid related or money related or life related, things I can't actually "do" but rather "hope for." And this puzzled me. Why dont I have any fun little dreams I want to fulfill before the big 4-0?

This has been a common challenge for me throughout my life.  I've never been the kind of person to go for it, or have big dreams and strive for them.  I don't think I am comfortable with the idea of dreaming. I think, "Yeah, that's a great idea...I'll believe it when I see it." It's like I am too realistic to allow myself a big dream. What I can't figure out is if this is a defense mechanism or a wise way of going through life.  It saves me a lot of disappointment, but it also means I've missed out on some things I wish I'd attempted. 

I'm just not a "dream big" kinda girl.  I take it one day at a time and see what happens.  I live day to day rather than looking into the future and making big plans.  This frustrates Nate when we are planning a vacation, or Christmas is approaching, or some big event is about to take place and I am not full of anticipation and excitement.  He's thinking "Aren't you glad we are heading to the beach?" I'm thinking "There are a lot of things that will be taking place before we get there." I'm dealing with the day's activities and not interested in looking ahead to what we "hope" will be a wonderful time.  And it will be, but I am unable to set it up in my mind as some amazing time that will surpass all other times.  I don't like being disappointed, so I don't like to create big dreams then have them turn out less than what I'd imagined.  If I go in without expectations, then whatever happens I can handle. And often I do have a great time.

So back to my list...rather than 39 things I want to do before I turn 40, I am going to list 39 things I am glad I've done before turning 40.  Revisiting some of the memories, rather than setting goals I may never attain.  I think I'm comfortable with this.  Hope you enjoy.

Some of my favorite memories:

0-10 years "Im glad I..."
1. jumped on the bed--a lot
2. got to ride a bike without a helmet
3. roller skated--a lot
4. could walk to the store as kid and was safe
5. was in a school play
6. had a dog named Solo
7. had a good bunch of neighborhood kids to play with
8. lived in a great small town
9. loved gymnastics
10. started playing softball

11-20 years of age
11. transferring to Prospect Point Elementary (life changing)
12. wore glasses
13. owned my first ghetto blaster and recorded my first mixed tapes
14. danced and sang in front of the mirror a lot
15. school dances :)
16. wasnt the best, but loved sports
17. lived in California for a bit
18. made mistakes I am glad I learned from
19. lived in the mountains for 6 months
20. traveled across the country to start anew in Cincinnati

21-30 years of age
21. finally understood forgiveness
22. made some important changes in my life
23. studied dance and loved every minute of it
24. married a good man
25. visited other countries like South Africa and England
26. became a mom
27. learned I dont know it all
28. gained a new appreciation for my hometown
29. fell in love with atlanta, ga
30. began to realize life was about more than just being happy

31-39 years of age
31. learned it's ok to need help
32. found true friendship again
33. stopped trying so hard to make it right and learned to love life as it is
34. ate mayonaise and sour cream for the first times and liked them
35. finally realized I ended up with a really great husband
36. decided to live more for others than myself
37. also learned it's ok to disappoint people/let people down
38. became ok with being a 30 something woman, not a 20 something anymore
39. realized I wouldnt trade a moment if it meant not ending up where I am today.  Very thankful.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

You Say Cicada, I Say Secada

A cicada aka "big noisy bug that flies."
Oh my goodness...if you are not already checking out "Stuff Christians Like" on a regular basis well, you will get a hefty dose of it here.  Because I found a funny little ditty that, being a woman from the Northwest, had me cracking up.  The post was about Cicadas, and having not grown up with them I, like Jon Acuff, had no clue what people were talking about when I made the move South.  The only cicada I had ever heard of was Jon Secada, and obviously this guy would be terribly insulted to be compared to bugs that, according to wikipedia:
a) "...have large eyes wide apart on the head and usually transparent, well-veined wings"
b)"...may mistake a person's arm or other part of their body for a tree or plant limb and attempt to feed" which "can be painful if they attempt to pierce a person's skin with it, but it is unlikely to cause other harm."
c) "...is technically loud enough to cause permanent hearing loss in humans, should the cicada sing just outside the listener's ear
d) "...are also among the few insects known to cool themselves by sweating."

However, I found this note somewhat fitting:
"A number of species also have a courtship song, which is often a quieter call and is produced after a female has been drawn by the calling song." Hmmm, sounds like Mr. Secada and Mr. Cicada both have a way with the ladies...but I digress.

Once again, without further ado, I present to you a post from one of my favorite bloggers, Jon Acuff, titled:

"Referencing the plague of locusts whenever two or more bugs are gathered in the same place."

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

"Beautiful Outlaw"

I have always been an avid reader.  My favorite time to read is in the evening, when Im tucked into bed just before falling asleep, or while Im eating lunch at the kitchen table.  I can remember back to jr. high and the summers spent sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese and reading Nancy Drew mysteries.  These are most definitely some of my favorite memories.



I recently started the book "Beautiful Outlaw" by John Eldredge.  It's a 2011 Best Seller in the Christian market and just happens to be a book selected for the book club Im a part of.  It was a slow start, partially because I havent read John Eldredge before and I was getting a feel for his style of writing, but two chapters in and I am really enjoying it.  In fact, it has got me thinking more and more about what Jesus must have been like in person, face to face. I have actually begun to read thoughtfully, not just flying through the pages absorbing what info I can, but deliberately slowing down and even walking away from the book to really consider what the author is saying.  This is new to me.  It's unusual.  But Im liking it.

I just finished a chapter titled, "Is Jesus Really Playful?" The word playful threw me off for a bit.  It felt almost wrong to describe Jesus in such a way.  I mean we can never forget the reverence we need to have for Him as our God and our Savior.  But I dove in and gave the author the chance to explain himself.  And what I found was that my eyes were opened to a new way of considering our Lord.  Here is are some excerpts from the chapter that I think you will enjoy:

pg 21-22 "Elton Trueblood conducted a good bit of research in order to write a biblical defense of Jesus' playfulness in his book The Humor Of Christ.  It is a very thorough, scholarly, and dry book.  Which is actually pretty funny--a humorless book about God's sense of humor.  What does it say of us, or of our church culture, that such a book even needs to be written? That we have to go to great lengths to wonder if God laughs? How far have we strayed from his heart, his personality?

Does Jesus have a sense of humor? Well, he created laughter.

And think of the crowd he dined with. These rabble-rousers quickly earned Jesus a reputation as a drunkard and a glutton, and it wasnt because they served water and crackers.  This was a wild group, and surely such a crowd got rolling in laughter from time to time, if only from the joy they were experiencing being with Jesus. Now, surely the creator of these colorful characters didnt sit there frowning, looking pious, Mr. Killjoy, Mr. Im-Above-All-This.  Imagine his own happiness at having these very lost sheep back at his side."

Now I cant speak for the author's other works, or even for the rest of the book.  But this chapter really spoke to me about the fact that God invented laughter.  He made us, and other animals, playful in our nature.  And I have to say when considering this side of Jesus and reading through the Bible verses the author used as examples of Jesus' humor, I have to say I read them anew.  I really enjoyed considering Jesus' actions in the Bible in a new light, without at all changing the truth about who He is.  Ive smiled while  imagining our Lord laughing a hearty laugh along with his friends.  Or using humor to lighten the mood in a tense moment.  I think he has more of a sense of humor than we have allowed him.  Not in a spiteful or mean sense, but in a relational sense.  We forget he was also a man, like us, and that laughter is one of the most wonderful things we experience together.  I like to think the God I love gets a good chuckle from watching me.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Something Sticky

This is a really interesting and creative video that my daughters brought to my attention after viewing it at school.  Who knew such fun could be had with sticky notes?? Have a great weekend!

Friday, February 17, 2012

My (not so) Secret Crushes

1. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (but you already knew that :)
2. Little girl shoes (I am head over heels)
3. Junior mints at a movie (I am obsessed)
4. Target (we meet up at least three times a week)
5. A thick, warm sweater (to keep me warm day or night)
6. TiVo (I miss you my friend...you were simply the best)
7. Fresh baked bread slathered with butter (bordering on lust with this one)
8. Kittens (like the Justin Bieber's of the animal world...swoon-worthy)

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Last Friday at Hula Seventy


 Now this is fun stuff! My girls LOVE their cousins Ava and Ezra who came for a visit this past Christmas. On the last day of 2011 the kids were stolen away by their super fun Aunt and Uncle and taken into the city for delicious treats and of course, if you know my sister-in-law, some photo booth action.  Here are some of the great moments of that adventure that were, thankfully, captured forever. 


(You can read more about their exciting day on Andrea's blog here.)

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Grabbing Fistfuls of Air

Sometimes I totally fail as a parent.  Yesterday was one of those times.

The girls have been taking swimming lessons for the last few weeks and have progressed greatly.  It has been such a joy to see them working hard and learning new strokes, but it has also been exhausting.  We have had to keep such a regimented schedule on Mondays and Wednesdays just to get through the evening with all we have to do.  After a day of school we come home, have something like "dinner" to eat, Lux does her homework and Zaine reads, watches tv, or runs around for about an hour.  As soon as homework is finished the girls have to quickly get ready for swim, then we drive over to the pool and are there until 7:15pm.  We get home just before bedtime and eat once more, get school stuff ready for the next day, then head to bed.  And it was taking a toll on the girls and me.  Monday night was the last lesson of this session and after the chaos that surrounded the entire evening I think we all whispered a collective "Amen" when we arrived home and pulled in the garage.  It had been so crazy trying to get out of the house on time each night.

It is fascinating to me that no matter how badly a child wants to go somewhere they take the longest amount of time possible to actually get ready to go! I gave us 15 minutes to change and get in the car, which should be plenty of time considering we are already packed up and only putting on swim suits.  I cant tell you the number of times my children came out of their rooms not ready! One child came out with just a swimsuit--no shoes or a swim bag-- so back to her room she went. Her sister came out with school clothes still on unable to find her suit.  While Im searching for the missing suit, child #1 returns from her room with swim suit and shoes but has taken out her ponytail because it was bothering her.  I leave child # 2 searching for ANY suit that fits and redo child #1's hair.  I ask #1 to put on her jacket and stay put while I help child #2.  #2 is sitting on the floor in her skivvies, frustrated that she cant find her favorite suit.  No other suit will do.  At this point I begin to say ridiculous things like "I guess you'll have to go naked!" and "This is the last time I will help you find something because you cant seem to keep track of anything!"

Child #1 whom I left in the living room has now lost her towel and has her swim bag strewn across the floor in search of her goggles.  I repack the bag and yell for child #2 to get herself to the car, naked or not! This sends child #2 into a panic that I would actually make her go naked to swim and she begins to cry.  I spend at least 4 minutes consoling this child, who is now actually in a swimsuit but has no shoes or swim bag, with promises that I would never send her swimming (or anywhere) naked.  I send both children to the garage to get in the car, and decide to hunt for missing items myself rather than attempt to keep the children on task.  In the end we made it there with just a few minutes to spare.

My sister in law has compared this wrangling of kids to "corralling cats" or "chasing rolling marbles." I think both describe the process perfectly!  I wonder how people with 7 or 8 kids ever get out the door! But as difficult as those moments were I am actually going to miss going to swim. Sometimes the madness of it all is worth it.