Sunday, December 13, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Frenectomy That Almost Wasn't
Today Mason, Caroline and I drove 1 1/2 hours to Mobile where Caroline had an appointment with the Periodontist.
Caroline was born with attached frenulums (frenuli?) both upper and lower. The lower one was taken care of early in life, but that upper one just didn't show itself until much later. So today was the day it was to be addressed.
Caroline and I sat while the Periodontist looked her over. He explained the procedure very thoroughly, step-by-step, while Caroline and I nodded our heads in understanding. He then asked us to move to a different room while he had his nurse prepare the procedure room. Caroline, very lady-like and grown up, proceeded to the room ahead of me. Once we got in there, she whipped around to face me and said,
"Yeah...I'm not doing that."
I explained to her what a total "non-issue" the whole thing would be. You know, it'll only take a second; it'll feel just like a mosquito bite; I had something similar when I was your age. Nothing worked. She was determined that no way was Dr. Whatshisname getting into her mouth. When I tried to drag her back to the procedure room, she just went limp. I called Michael: no help. I begged: didn't work. She was crying and I was just about crying as well. I explained over and over and over (and over) again that this would not hurt, but to someone who has never had a cavity or anything, getting a shot in the gum just doesn't sound like a party. I get that.
Finally, the nurse very politely pulled me aside and said, "We can't do this if she's not going to be still and cooperate." I asked her to give me 5 more minutes with her and then come into the waiting room to get her, as I was not allowed back during the procedure.
I said a quick prayer for wisdom as I sat her down. Again, I reiterated all the "it won't hurt" jive I had already lost my voice on. Then the light bulb came on.
"Caroline!" I sputtered, "Penny! I'll get you Penny!" (American Girl Felicity's horse)
"OK...I'll do it," she replied.
And that was that. She didn't utter another word of protest, but took the nurse's hand and returned to me 10 minutes later frenulum-free.
Did I do the right thing? Did I cave? Is it wrong to bribe your own child? These are all hypotheticals...please don't answer. The answers may very well be no, yes and yes...but I just wanted to help her through something scary. It reminded me of the time my brother got stitches after putting his arm through our front door window (which I happened to lock...but I digress). While he was crying and moaning my dad told him that if he was brave he'd buy him a Buffalo Bills football helmet with mouth guard. That shut him up and he took it like a man.
It also reminds me a little bit of how the Father, subjects us sometimes to things that are painful - for our own good - but always does so with love and the blessing of his presence.
I hope Caroline remembers this day. I hope she looks back at this thing that occured between us and thinks "My mom tells me the truth. She said the frenectomy wouldn't hurt, and it didn't. I know I can trust her in this other scary thing I'm facing." Wow...I hope I can always keep her trust.
Bless ya!
Caroline was born with attached frenulums (frenuli?) both upper and lower. The lower one was taken care of early in life, but that upper one just didn't show itself until much later. So today was the day it was to be addressed.
Caroline and I sat while the Periodontist looked her over. He explained the procedure very thoroughly, step-by-step, while Caroline and I nodded our heads in understanding. He then asked us to move to a different room while he had his nurse prepare the procedure room. Caroline, very lady-like and grown up, proceeded to the room ahead of me. Once we got in there, she whipped around to face me and said,
"Yeah...I'm not doing that."
I explained to her what a total "non-issue" the whole thing would be. You know, it'll only take a second; it'll feel just like a mosquito bite; I had something similar when I was your age. Nothing worked. She was determined that no way was Dr. Whatshisname getting into her mouth. When I tried to drag her back to the procedure room, she just went limp. I called Michael: no help. I begged: didn't work. She was crying and I was just about crying as well. I explained over and over and over (and over) again that this would not hurt, but to someone who has never had a cavity or anything, getting a shot in the gum just doesn't sound like a party. I get that.
Finally, the nurse very politely pulled me aside and said, "We can't do this if she's not going to be still and cooperate." I asked her to give me 5 more minutes with her and then come into the waiting room to get her, as I was not allowed back during the procedure.
I said a quick prayer for wisdom as I sat her down. Again, I reiterated all the "it won't hurt" jive I had already lost my voice on. Then the light bulb came on.
"Caroline!" I sputtered, "Penny! I'll get you Penny!" (American Girl Felicity's horse)
"OK...I'll do it," she replied.
And that was that. She didn't utter another word of protest, but took the nurse's hand and returned to me 10 minutes later frenulum-free.
Did I do the right thing? Did I cave? Is it wrong to bribe your own child? These are all hypotheticals...please don't answer. The answers may very well be no, yes and yes...but I just wanted to help her through something scary. It reminded me of the time my brother got stitches after putting his arm through our front door window (which I happened to lock...but I digress). While he was crying and moaning my dad told him that if he was brave he'd buy him a Buffalo Bills football helmet with mouth guard. That shut him up and he took it like a man.
It also reminds me a little bit of how the Father, subjects us sometimes to things that are painful - for our own good - but always does so with love and the blessing of his presence.
I hope Caroline remembers this day. I hope she looks back at this thing that occured between us and thinks "My mom tells me the truth. She said the frenectomy wouldn't hurt, and it didn't. I know I can trust her in this other scary thing I'm facing." Wow...I hope I can always keep her trust.
Bless ya!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
School Stuff
Crayola Crayons, 3 packs of 96..................$16
Elmer's Glue, 6 bottles............................$7
Wide-ruled notebook paper, 8 packs............$5
Jansport backpack.................................$17
The feel of new school supplies: PRICELESS
Elmer's Glue, 6 bottles............................$7
Wide-ruled notebook paper, 8 packs............$5
Jansport backpack.................................$17
The feel of new school supplies: PRICELESS
Molly's Melon
This morning I was doing laundry.
I don't mind doing laundry...it's the folding and putting away that I can't stand.
Anyway, in my laundry room I have a bottle of Shout. Probably not much of a surprise considering there are 4 children to do laundry for. You probably have a bottle or two yourself. This bottle of Shout, however, is bought for one main purpose: Molly.
When Molly gets home from school, I don't have to ask her what was for lunch. When she gets in the car at 3pm, one quick glance gives me all the information I need.
"So, Molly...how were the sloppy joes today? And red jello, too? Nice!"
I buy Shout for Molly. I spray down her clothes and then have to vigorously rub it in. Oftentimes I have to wash her school uniforms twice. This morning I was going through her things and spraying them down when something caught my eye. It was something brown, and it was in her pocket. Is it a bug? Is it a bit of Monday's lunch? A blob of ink/dirt/something else? I was scared to put my finger down in there, but reason overruled...I knew I had to get it out.
It was about 30 watermelon seeds.
Molly had gathered up the lunchtime seeds from all at her table who would share.
Bless ya!
I don't mind doing laundry...it's the folding and putting away that I can't stand.
Anyway, in my laundry room I have a bottle of Shout. Probably not much of a surprise considering there are 4 children to do laundry for. You probably have a bottle or two yourself. This bottle of Shout, however, is bought for one main purpose: Molly.
When Molly gets home from school, I don't have to ask her what was for lunch. When she gets in the car at 3pm, one quick glance gives me all the information I need.
"So, Molly...how were the sloppy joes today? And red jello, too? Nice!"
I buy Shout for Molly. I spray down her clothes and then have to vigorously rub it in. Oftentimes I have to wash her school uniforms twice. This morning I was going through her things and spraying them down when something caught my eye. It was something brown, and it was in her pocket. Is it a bug? Is it a bit of Monday's lunch? A blob of ink/dirt/something else? I was scared to put my finger down in there, but reason overruled...I knew I had to get it out.
It was about 30 watermelon seeds.
Molly had gathered up the lunchtime seeds from all at her table who would share.
Bless ya!
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
The Picnic
I can't say enough wonderful things about my family. They make me laugh, they make me thankful, they make me think, and they give me over and over again that general "warm fuzzy" feeling. Oh! And they always give me plenty to blog about.
One day the week before school started back, I packed a picnic basket and the splash bomb, threw some bathing suits and towels into a Target bag and we headed to the beach. This is one thing I love about living in Lower Alabama: day trips to the beach are totally doable.
As I sat with my book looking out across the ocean, watching my family frolic in the water (a little far away in my opinion, but dad's with them, so how bad can it be, right?), I couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed - verklempt, if you will - at God's goodness in giving me such sweet and sublime folks to share space with, even if they did get sand in the Cheetos. Ahhh...peace. This is exaclty what I've been needing. A respite from life shaken and stirred. If I could be anywhere in the world right now I would choose this exact spot. Why, even the weather seems to...
Huh. That's odd. Michael's face looks a bit funny. Hmm...what could be wrong with Caroline and Ethan...they seem to be waving at something. Is that crying I hear? I wonder...could it...no...JELLYFISH!
Mason then came running to me to let me know that, indeed, a jellyfish had entered our lives that picturesque day. The look I saw on Michael's face was not a smile, but rather, a grimace of pain. It didn't take long for Ethan and Caroline to become mildly hysterical. Caroline got stung on her hand while Michael tried to push her away from the gelatinous beast. For Ethan, it was his thigh.
I applied some ice to their stinging skin. A brazen novice at this, I tried to process information as well-meaning beach goers offered sage wisdom and home rememdies a-plenty: put them back into the water, apply sand, go by a balm, pee works, try that.
The stings were actually not too bad (Michael got it the worst), and after some chocolate chip cookies, gatorade, and plenty of hugs, the hysteria began to ebb. Molly took the longest to recover. That's right, Molly - who was no where near the water when the attack occured. She just has such a compassionate heart that she was in almost as much pain as the actual victims.
Alas, the sun was setting on our day of peace and tranquility. We were no match for the jellyfish, but we held our heads high as we packed our junk and trudged back to public parking.
Don't worry...we'll be back.
One day the week before school started back, I packed a picnic basket and the splash bomb, threw some bathing suits and towels into a Target bag and we headed to the beach. This is one thing I love about living in Lower Alabama: day trips to the beach are totally doable.
As I sat with my book looking out across the ocean, watching my family frolic in the water (a little far away in my opinion, but dad's with them, so how bad can it be, right?), I couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed - verklempt, if you will - at God's goodness in giving me such sweet and sublime folks to share space with, even if they did get sand in the Cheetos. Ahhh...peace. This is exaclty what I've been needing. A respite from life shaken and stirred. If I could be anywhere in the world right now I would choose this exact spot. Why, even the weather seems to...
Huh. That's odd. Michael's face looks a bit funny. Hmm...what could be wrong with Caroline and Ethan...they seem to be waving at something. Is that crying I hear? I wonder...could it...no...JELLYFISH!
Mason then came running to me to let me know that, indeed, a jellyfish had entered our lives that picturesque day. The look I saw on Michael's face was not a smile, but rather, a grimace of pain. It didn't take long for Ethan and Caroline to become mildly hysterical. Caroline got stung on her hand while Michael tried to push her away from the gelatinous beast. For Ethan, it was his thigh.
I applied some ice to their stinging skin. A brazen novice at this, I tried to process information as well-meaning beach goers offered sage wisdom and home rememdies a-plenty: put them back into the water, apply sand, go by a balm, pee works, try that.
The stings were actually not too bad (Michael got it the worst), and after some chocolate chip cookies, gatorade, and plenty of hugs, the hysteria began to ebb. Molly took the longest to recover. That's right, Molly - who was no where near the water when the attack occured. She just has such a compassionate heart that she was in almost as much pain as the actual victims.
Alas, the sun was setting on our day of peace and tranquility. We were no match for the jellyfish, but we held our heads high as we packed our junk and trudged back to public parking.
Don't worry...we'll be back.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
You "Cat" Always Get What You Want
How could she have known what the day would bring? If she could have forseen how the events of the day would ultimately unfold, would she have chosen to stay in bed all day? Maybe...or maybe not.
Caroline is my almost-nine-year-old. She is a joy and full of life. However, one day just a couple of weeks back she got some lessons I think she'll never forget.
It started out as any other day. Summer break was upon us and it just so happened I was due to make my bi-weekly trip to Super Wal-Mart. I got up at 6:30am, ran a brush over both my hair and teeth and was out the door by 7:00am. While perusing the aisles of my local super-store I saw a display of coloring books. Wouldn't it be nice, I thought, to get the kids a coloring book. They'll think I'm the best mom ever. Boy, was I wrong.
I chose a Disney princess coloring book for Molly and for Caroline I chose a very lovely Tinkerbell one. When I presented the gifts, I quickly received the usual la-la-la's from Molly (who has the neatest gift of showing such avid and genuine appreciation for things given to her - it's fun to watch), but over in Caroline's corner I could see the storm a-brewin'.
"What's wrong, Caroline?" I dared to ask.
"You know I wanted that Princess coloring book! When we were in the store last week I showed it to you and told you how much I wanted it! I don't like Tinkerbell and I don't want that coloring book! You gave the coloring book I wanted to Molly and you love her more!" She went on.
I honestly did not remember Caroline pointing that coloring book out to me, or her admiring it. I turned to Molly to ask if she'd consider switching and there she was writing her name on the cover of the Princess one - in Sharpie of course. She wasn't letting loose.
I begged Caroline's forgiveness and Molly even said she would share (to a point). Caroline was completely dejected and it wasn't even noon.
After lunch, Molly and Mason were invited to a friend's house, and Caroline felt left out again. As I drove away with the other two, Caroline looked at her dad and said, "This is a terrible day! I hate my life! I have nothing to live for!" (is she a dramatic child? Ummm, that would be an emphatic yes.)
Michael, in typical Michael fashion, stepped in to save the day.
"Caroline, would you like to go for a walk with me?" he asked.
"Yes, Daddy," she replied.
As they walked, Michael reminded her of her importance to our family, of how God has a wonderful plan for her and how he loves her so much. We may not always get what we want when we want it, but God is committed to finishing what he's started in us and how she, Caroline, is a precious beloved daughter, not just to us, but to her Heavenly Father as well.
About halfway around our block, something happened. A tiny, nasty ball of wet fur came creeping straight up to Caroline. A kitten, not 8 weeks old, had found it's way into the arms of my daughter.
Michael and Caroline took the kitten home, gave him a bath (!), fed him, and fell for him within 30 minutes. When I got home, she introduced me to her new friend...Tiger.
I took Caroline to the store right away and we bought kitten chow, kitty litter, a bed and a litter box. While we were driving home Caroline was talking non-stop about her new friend and all that she wanted to do with him. She talked until she was blue in the face with excitement. After a few minutes she got really quiet and said, "Mom, I'm sorry I got so mad at you this morning about the coloring book. I know now that wasn't really important. And if I had gone with Molly and Mason, then I wouldn't have met Tiger. So, I guess this was a good day after all."
I guess it's all about perspective.
Bless ya!
Caroline is my almost-nine-year-old. She is a joy and full of life. However, one day just a couple of weeks back she got some lessons I think she'll never forget.
It started out as any other day. Summer break was upon us and it just so happened I was due to make my bi-weekly trip to Super Wal-Mart. I got up at 6:30am, ran a brush over both my hair and teeth and was out the door by 7:00am. While perusing the aisles of my local super-store I saw a display of coloring books. Wouldn't it be nice, I thought, to get the kids a coloring book. They'll think I'm the best mom ever. Boy, was I wrong.
I chose a Disney princess coloring book for Molly and for Caroline I chose a very lovely Tinkerbell one. When I presented the gifts, I quickly received the usual la-la-la's from Molly (who has the neatest gift of showing such avid and genuine appreciation for things given to her - it's fun to watch), but over in Caroline's corner I could see the storm a-brewin'.
"What's wrong, Caroline?" I dared to ask.
"You know I wanted that Princess coloring book! When we were in the store last week I showed it to you and told you how much I wanted it! I don't like Tinkerbell and I don't want that coloring book! You gave the coloring book I wanted to Molly and you love her more!" She went on.
I honestly did not remember Caroline pointing that coloring book out to me, or her admiring it. I turned to Molly to ask if she'd consider switching and there she was writing her name on the cover of the Princess one - in Sharpie of course. She wasn't letting loose.
I begged Caroline's forgiveness and Molly even said she would share (to a point). Caroline was completely dejected and it wasn't even noon.
After lunch, Molly and Mason were invited to a friend's house, and Caroline felt left out again. As I drove away with the other two, Caroline looked at her dad and said, "This is a terrible day! I hate my life! I have nothing to live for!" (is she a dramatic child? Ummm, that would be an emphatic yes.)
Michael, in typical Michael fashion, stepped in to save the day.
"Caroline, would you like to go for a walk with me?" he asked.
"Yes, Daddy," she replied.
As they walked, Michael reminded her of her importance to our family, of how God has a wonderful plan for her and how he loves her so much. We may not always get what we want when we want it, but God is committed to finishing what he's started in us and how she, Caroline, is a precious beloved daughter, not just to us, but to her Heavenly Father as well.
About halfway around our block, something happened. A tiny, nasty ball of wet fur came creeping straight up to Caroline. A kitten, not 8 weeks old, had found it's way into the arms of my daughter.
Michael and Caroline took the kitten home, gave him a bath (!), fed him, and fell for him within 30 minutes. When I got home, she introduced me to her new friend...Tiger.
I took Caroline to the store right away and we bought kitten chow, kitty litter, a bed and a litter box. While we were driving home Caroline was talking non-stop about her new friend and all that she wanted to do with him. She talked until she was blue in the face with excitement. After a few minutes she got really quiet and said, "Mom, I'm sorry I got so mad at you this morning about the coloring book. I know now that wasn't really important. And if I had gone with Molly and Mason, then I wouldn't have met Tiger. So, I guess this was a good day after all."
I guess it's all about perspective.
Bless ya!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Late Easter Reflections
Last night Ethan came up to the chair where I was reading, his arms laden with books, and said, "I need some Mama time." Of course I obliged. Who could resist?
In the same vein, last weekend Michael's mom invited Caroline to come up to Birmingham and stay with her for the weekend. I loaded her up early Friday afternoon and we made the 3 hour trek. All the way Caroline talked about Nana. Nana this, Nana that. Nana knows how to french braid...I hope we can make a chocolate pie...I love Nana's house, it's so pretty...Maybe we can watch a movie. You get the picture. caroline loooves here Nana!
Nana has 14 grandchildren, so time alone with her is at a premium. It made Caroline feel so special to be invited by her, to be singled out and wanted like that. Just the same way Ethan made me feel when he sought out my company.
Easter weekend here was a disaster. We had a stomach virus that stomped through our house, torturing everyone but Michael. I had to cancel with our Easter lunch guests, dying eggs was an after thought, and Molly and I even missed church altogether. It almost seemed like my heart might miss the significance of Easter entirely, but thankfully the Lord gave me a reminder: He reminded me that I am pursued, loved and desired. Not to sound trite or platitudinous, but the agony that Jesus endured on the cross really was for me. And because he loves me he comes after me, to be with me, to work on me even in all my messiness - he considers me worth it.
My "Armenian" friends may not agree, but I love the chorus of this hymn:
O Lord I did not choose You,
For that could never be,
My heart would still refuse you,
Had you not chosen me.
This Easter I was reminded that it is a thrill to be sought by the lover of my soul!
Bless ya!
In the same vein, last weekend Michael's mom invited Caroline to come up to Birmingham and stay with her for the weekend. I loaded her up early Friday afternoon and we made the 3 hour trek. All the way Caroline talked about Nana. Nana this, Nana that. Nana knows how to french braid...I hope we can make a chocolate pie...I love Nana's house, it's so pretty...Maybe we can watch a movie. You get the picture. caroline loooves here Nana!
Nana has 14 grandchildren, so time alone with her is at a premium. It made Caroline feel so special to be invited by her, to be singled out and wanted like that. Just the same way Ethan made me feel when he sought out my company.
Easter weekend here was a disaster. We had a stomach virus that stomped through our house, torturing everyone but Michael. I had to cancel with our Easter lunch guests, dying eggs was an after thought, and Molly and I even missed church altogether. It almost seemed like my heart might miss the significance of Easter entirely, but thankfully the Lord gave me a reminder: He reminded me that I am pursued, loved and desired. Not to sound trite or platitudinous, but the agony that Jesus endured on the cross really was for me. And because he loves me he comes after me, to be with me, to work on me even in all my messiness - he considers me worth it.
My "Armenian" friends may not agree, but I love the chorus of this hymn:
O Lord I did not choose You,
For that could never be,
My heart would still refuse you,
Had you not chosen me.
This Easter I was reminded that it is a thrill to be sought by the lover of my soul!
Bless ya!
Facebook Props
Facebook is wonderful. Where else would I be able to learn which Winnie the Pooh character I am, or which breakfast cereal I am most like? How did I go 40 years without knowing these things?
Bless ya!
(and thanks, Chris!)
Bless ya!
(and thanks, Chris!)
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Krispy Kreme Theology
This past Monday I headed to Mobile with Alex and Crissy for a girl's day out. We had an agenda, pretty much: Fresh Market, Target, Ann Taylor Loft, China Rose, and the Dentist's office. I really didn't care where we went...I just wanted to get out of town and hang out with my friends.
We had to split up for awhile, and we never really hit all the targets we were aiming for, but that didn't matter because a welcomed detour came upon us: A Krispy Kreme shop.
We were in line waiting to make our selections when I observed something. In line ahead of us were 3 women and 2 children. I'm assuming one of the women was the mom of the kids, one was the grandmother, and then the third adult I wasn't sure about.
One child was an infant and the other child, a little girl, was 2; maybe 3.
The little girl, you could tell, was just tickled to death to be getting a doughnut. So much so that when the doughnuts were on the tray, along with some drinks, the sweet little thing tried to help by lifting the tray up off the counter, I can only guess, to carry it. It didn't take long for the inevitable to happen. Doughnuts and cokes spilled everywhere, littering the floor with sprinkles and sticky stuff. It didn't take more than a second for the little girl to realize what she had done and what it could possibly mean for her. Her wails were full of sorrow..."My doughnut!" she cried (and cried and cried).
Crissy quickly grabbed napkins and we tried to soothe the little girl as best we could. Of course, her mother must have thought we were idiots...then again, she probably just concluded that we were mothers.
Within minutes, the Krispy Kreme staff had launched into "customer mode" and the little girl had a fresh set of doughnuts and drinks. As we were leaving I looked at her, sitting happily at her table, legs swinging beneath her, nibbling on her doughnut and not trace of the sorrow and tears of minutes before.
It got me thinking...
I am like that little girl. Sometimes I see the situation I'm in and I fret. Sometimes I am the one responsible for the situation, sometimes not, but too often I look around me, see the circumstances and think only of the possible negative implications. If that little girl could only have known that even though her doughnut fell, even though her coke splayed itself all over the front of the counter, there was no way on earth her mother was going to say to her, "Well, too bad! You spilled the tray, so no doughnut for you!" No, her mother was compassionate, understanding, and patient with her mess, not chiding her, but calming her with her love and nearness.
God is like that mother. Sometimes my doughnut hits the ground rolling. Sometimes I make the biggest messes with my bad decisions, my somewhat less-than-patient responses. But like that little girl, I am learning. I'll bet the next time she goes into Krispy Kreme, she will think twice about trying to heave that tray to the table. God is sweet to let me experience my depravity...to see how much I am saved from...to see how much I am loved and cherished. I'm not saying that God will replace my doughnuts when I drop them (because let's face it...sometimes the illustrations just plain breakdown, don't they?), but that when I do drop them, He still loves me, He's still my Daddy, and He's committed to loving me as His daughter and teaching me more about holiness along the way. Then maybe the next time an opportunity to make a mess arises, I could possibly choose differently. Only by His grace...only by the power of the Spirit.
Bless ya!
We had to split up for awhile, and we never really hit all the targets we were aiming for, but that didn't matter because a welcomed detour came upon us: A Krispy Kreme shop.
We were in line waiting to make our selections when I observed something. In line ahead of us were 3 women and 2 children. I'm assuming one of the women was the mom of the kids, one was the grandmother, and then the third adult I wasn't sure about.
One child was an infant and the other child, a little girl, was 2; maybe 3.
The little girl, you could tell, was just tickled to death to be getting a doughnut. So much so that when the doughnuts were on the tray, along with some drinks, the sweet little thing tried to help by lifting the tray up off the counter, I can only guess, to carry it. It didn't take long for the inevitable to happen. Doughnuts and cokes spilled everywhere, littering the floor with sprinkles and sticky stuff. It didn't take more than a second for the little girl to realize what she had done and what it could possibly mean for her. Her wails were full of sorrow..."My doughnut!" she cried (and cried and cried).
Crissy quickly grabbed napkins and we tried to soothe the little girl as best we could. Of course, her mother must have thought we were idiots...then again, she probably just concluded that we were mothers.
Within minutes, the Krispy Kreme staff had launched into "customer mode" and the little girl had a fresh set of doughnuts and drinks. As we were leaving I looked at her, sitting happily at her table, legs swinging beneath her, nibbling on her doughnut and not trace of the sorrow and tears of minutes before.
It got me thinking...
I am like that little girl. Sometimes I see the situation I'm in and I fret. Sometimes I am the one responsible for the situation, sometimes not, but too often I look around me, see the circumstances and think only of the possible negative implications. If that little girl could only have known that even though her doughnut fell, even though her coke splayed itself all over the front of the counter, there was no way on earth her mother was going to say to her, "Well, too bad! You spilled the tray, so no doughnut for you!" No, her mother was compassionate, understanding, and patient with her mess, not chiding her, but calming her with her love and nearness.
God is like that mother. Sometimes my doughnut hits the ground rolling. Sometimes I make the biggest messes with my bad decisions, my somewhat less-than-patient responses. But like that little girl, I am learning. I'll bet the next time she goes into Krispy Kreme, she will think twice about trying to heave that tray to the table. God is sweet to let me experience my depravity...to see how much I am saved from...to see how much I am loved and cherished. I'm not saying that God will replace my doughnuts when I drop them (because let's face it...sometimes the illustrations just plain breakdown, don't they?), but that when I do drop them, He still loves me, He's still my Daddy, and He's committed to loving me as His daughter and teaching me more about holiness along the way. Then maybe the next time an opportunity to make a mess arises, I could possibly choose differently. Only by His grace...only by the power of the Spirit.
Bless ya!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Trouble Right Here in Amytown
The other day I was sitting with Molly – I forget what we were doing – but I turned my attention to her and asked:
MOM: So, Molly, what’s up in Molly world?
MOLLY: Huh? I mean, ma’am?
MOM: What’s shakin’ in Mollytown? What’s happenin’? Aren’t you the ruler of Mollyville??
MOLLY: No, Mom, I’m not the ruler…Jesus is.
Later that evening, we were all sitting at the dinner table and I relayed the interchange to the rest of our family. Michael joined in…
MICHAEL: So, Jesus is the ruler of Mollyville, huh?
MOLLY: Yes, Daddy, but I AM the president.
I share this because it got me thinking of how much of a dictatorship Amytown is sometimes. Amytown is often very important to me, and I just dare one to make it difficult or messy. Amytown is at its best when it is neat and tidy. I like to talk about Amytown (obviously), making sure Amytown has everything it needs. Amytown is often a slave to order and predictability…but some of the best “towns” are, am I right? Amytown is a comfortable place (or at least, her ruler-ME-desires it to be…sometimes above all else).
It’s laughable, really, how often I do make life about me, what I want, what bothers me, and how to bring comfort back to those raw, uncomfortable places.
The last few days have been very encouraging ones to me. God has sent some people my way to remind me which way to face. When I am too mired down in thinking about how life is affecting me and looking only at my circumstances, I forget who is holding me, and more than that – who is holding the universe. God is in this, and he wants me to take my eyes off of self and put them back where they belong…on Him.
So, thank you Molly, for reminding me that ultimately I want Jesus to be ruler of Amytown, not me. In fact, I don’t even want to be president when you get right down to it. Maybe some unimportant cabinet position or something…ok, now this is just getting weird.
Bless ya!
MOM: So, Molly, what’s up in Molly world?
MOLLY: Huh? I mean, ma’am?
MOM: What’s shakin’ in Mollytown? What’s happenin’? Aren’t you the ruler of Mollyville??
MOLLY: No, Mom, I’m not the ruler…Jesus is.
Later that evening, we were all sitting at the dinner table and I relayed the interchange to the rest of our family. Michael joined in…
MICHAEL: So, Jesus is the ruler of Mollyville, huh?
MOLLY: Yes, Daddy, but I AM the president.
I share this because it got me thinking of how much of a dictatorship Amytown is sometimes. Amytown is often very important to me, and I just dare one to make it difficult or messy. Amytown is at its best when it is neat and tidy. I like to talk about Amytown (obviously), making sure Amytown has everything it needs. Amytown is often a slave to order and predictability…but some of the best “towns” are, am I right? Amytown is a comfortable place (or at least, her ruler-ME-desires it to be…sometimes above all else).
It’s laughable, really, how often I do make life about me, what I want, what bothers me, and how to bring comfort back to those raw, uncomfortable places.
The last few days have been very encouraging ones to me. God has sent some people my way to remind me which way to face. When I am too mired down in thinking about how life is affecting me and looking only at my circumstances, I forget who is holding me, and more than that – who is holding the universe. God is in this, and he wants me to take my eyes off of self and put them back where they belong…on Him.
So, thank you Molly, for reminding me that ultimately I want Jesus to be ruler of Amytown, not me. In fact, I don’t even want to be president when you get right down to it. Maybe some unimportant cabinet position or something…ok, now this is just getting weird.
Bless ya!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Back to Reality
I think it's funny that every so often some poor person ends up on my blog who is just looking for a way to get crayons off their clothes once they've been through the dryer. This is all thanks to Google. If you do a search for "get crayons off clothes in dryer" or something like that, my blog will be among the results.
Boy, have I been there. Those crayons are little dickens to get off, as well. Actually, you can't really remove it all. I think Michael has a couple shirts which are monuments to the elusive crayon in the dryer.
I got to have a break this week. It was so relaxing and so energizing. The tanks feel full.
Julie, Terry: I love you! I had such a wonderful time with you both! I'm so thankful God caused our lives to intersect. Yours are friendships I will cherish all my life...thanks!
And Alex, Jean and Michelle: I love you as well! Thank you for taking care of my children for me so I could rest. I never worried about them for one second. You are a like a gift to me!! I appreciate you so much...thanks!
Sigh...life is good.
Bless ya!
Boy, have I been there. Those crayons are little dickens to get off, as well. Actually, you can't really remove it all. I think Michael has a couple shirts which are monuments to the elusive crayon in the dryer.
I got to have a break this week. It was so relaxing and so energizing. The tanks feel full.
Julie, Terry: I love you! I had such a wonderful time with you both! I'm so thankful God caused our lives to intersect. Yours are friendships I will cherish all my life...thanks!
And Alex, Jean and Michelle: I love you as well! Thank you for taking care of my children for me so I could rest. I never worried about them for one second. You are a like a gift to me!! I appreciate you so much...thanks!
Sigh...life is good.
Bless ya!
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