Killing Flies...

"Courtney!" I called from the kitchen, "I need you to go out to the car and get your cheeseburger. Come and put it on the kitchen table. Make sure to close the door behind you." My four year old ran out to the car and grabbed what was left of her Happy Meal. I gave my one year old a banana, quickly put the peel on the table and continued running through the house emptying my arms after a morning out. Sippy cups, shoes, purse. Ah, finally. I thought. It's all put away. I returned to the kitchen and bumped the table with my hip as I passed. Suddenly a swarm of flies flew up from the banana peel, filling my dining room. Where did those come from?!? I looked toward the door that led to the garage- yep, open. Flies still streaming in. (Okay, okay. That's an exaggeration- but I did see one fly come through, not to mention those on the table.)

I ran for the fly swatter and began killing the little boogers. SMACK! "One!" ... SMACK!! "Two! Where is that other one??" I continued counting as I killed the flies. I was angry. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because I was so tired? Maybe because this happens nearly every day? Nevertheless, I had had it, and killing them was like an outlet for my angst. "FIVE! SIX!! HA!" I worked my way up to number eight (not an exaggeration) and started hunting the last two.

Courtney lay in the floor with her newest McDonald's treasure and asked, "Mama, why are you counting them?" 

Hmmm. Why was I counting them? I know why: because in my mind each fly represented one more reason why she should have closed the door behind her. Here I was, fly-swatting and counting every right I had to be angry. Ooooh. I sensed a lesson coming.

Now, if I were to step back and look at this objectively, I could see that leaving the door open, while frustrating for me, was a genuine mistake on her part. She had her hands full and was so distracted by her new light-up toy that she simply forgot to shut the door. Not to mention she's only four. Ok, so in my right mind I would have just made her go shut it. Maybe time out or something small if I felt she needed it. Unfortunately, I was not in my right mind. I was in my sleepy, task-centered, feed the baby so he will stop screaming mind. So I started counting the flies.

(For the sake of this post, "flies" are the consequences of someone else's actions. We didn't ask for them, they just showed up. Sometimes they can buzz around for quite some time and we don't even notice them. Other times they're right up in our faces, crawling on our food and interrupting our lives.) 

I thought of the times I've done this on a larger scale to others in my life. Have you ever counted flies? Say a person cut you off. Instead of letting it go, blessing them and continuing on your way, you just start counting all of the ways they ruined your day. I have. What about a failed relationship? Yep. A conversation gone south? Yes. I've counted flies more times than I would like to admit.

What about with my kids? I counted flies when my oldest woke the baby, spilled the juice, left the garage door open. And 9 times out of 10 she was just being a kid. In fact, I even counted flies when my son was a newborn and would wake up every couple of hours to eat. *Sheesh!* 

People don't deserve our grudges.

You know, the thing about flies is that they need to be killed. If not, then they multiply- quickly. They bother everyone around. They are a pest- a nuisance- and if you ask me, they're just plain gross. But if you kill a fly and count it, then you choose not to forget it... so in essence, it lives on. You grant that fly eternal life in your psyche simply by choosing to count it. Same with our proverbial flies. If you choose to simply deal with the consequences of another person's actions and kill it in your own mind, it's gone. Forgive and forget.

(Now, hear me out that I realize there are much more dangerous consequences to some people's behavior- please seek help if you feel threatened in any way. I'm focusing this post more on the little day-to-day things.)

I heard someone say once that if you point a finger at someone there are always three fingers pointing right back at you (go ahead, point and see for yourself). Let's choose today to walk in forgiveness and let things go, instead of holding bitter grudges towards the people in our lives who leave the door open to those gross, little winged boogers. Kill the flies and move on. They (esp. the bitterness that surrounds them) don't deserve to live in our hearts. That place is reserved for God, family, flowers, butterflies and love. Why let a nasty old fly buzz around and throw up on your soul every time he lands?

God, can you right-side-out my blue jeans?

My four year old is working her way through a very frustrating season of life. She wants so desperately to do things on her own, but she still requires help. Nearly every day we encounter the same scenario: I'll be in the kitchen and I'll hear her from the hall. She grunts and growls as she tries to "right-side-out" her jeans so she can put them on. I can hear her tones ranging from self-pity to all-out anger. She pulls the legs and twists the pants into an even bigger knot than she started with. Eventually she can't even tell what parts are inside out vs. right-side out. I learned a long time ago that it is not wise to interrupt when she is focused on getting something done alone. I'm almost always met with "I'll do it myself!" Any help I offer at that point is useless and will be rejected. With my child, at least, the best thing to do is wait for her to come to me. She won't ask for help until she is absolutely certain that she has exhausted every other resource at her disposal. More times than not, this turns into a fit that needs to be disciplined. *Sigh* Sometimes I think, "If she had just come to me in the first place she wouldn't be red-faced and teary-eyed, standing in the kitchen completely discouraged. I was so willing to help. We could have worked on it together and saved a lot of time and frustration if she had only come to me."


I was reading in Isaiah 30 today. In this chapter, the Israelites had a similar attitude. They didn't want to hear what God had to say. In fact, they told the prophets to tell them lies because they were tired of hearing all of the "gloom and doom" (a.k.a. consequences for their behavior). What they were really struggling with here was their refusal to submit to God. They didn't want to change. They didn't want His help. They wanted to do things their own way. God warned them that this attitude would get them into trouble, but they didn't seem to care (or didn't seem to believe Him- I'm not sure which). Bottom line: they refused to run to God for help.

So what did God say? Well, after being quite clear about the consequences, Isaiah 30:18 says this:

"So the LORD must wait for you to come to him so he can show you his love and compassion. For the LORD is a faithful God. Blessed are those who wait for his help."

What? God is going to wait for me? He wants me to come to Him?? He wants to help me? Let's look at a few more verses:

Jeremiah 29:13a says "If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me..."

Psalm 46:1 "God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble."

James 4:8a says "Come close to God and he will come close to you..."

Hebrews 11:6 says "A man cannot please God unless he has faith. Anyone who comes to God must believe that He is. That one must also know that God gives what is promised to the one who keeps on looking for Him."


It just begs the question: are some of the struggles in our lives amplified by the fact that instead of running to God to right-side them out we're pulling on the ends and just making a bigger mess? Are we looking for God in our struggles? Seeking him wholeheartedly? Or are we trying to do it ourselves? The LORD is waiting patiently to show us His faithfulness and compassion. Let's just get past our pride and run to Him for help today.

Happy Tears...

As my four year old came out of her room this morning, hair in a tangled mess and rubbing her eyes, she started to complain (as always) that the sun coming through the kitchen window was too bright. I interrupted her with great news: "Guess what today is? It's the day we meet your new pre-K teacher!!" Her attitude changed in an instant and the sun no longer bothered her wide eyes as she danced around the dining room chairs.

We quickly got dressed, had breakfast and brushed our teeth, then set out to the first day of a new chapter in our lives. I was fine until we turned left at the stop sign and I started to ask Courtney if she was excited about visiting her new school. Before I could finish the question, my voice cracked and my eyes welled up with tears. I couldn't help it! A few minutes later, my husband called to tell me he would meet us there, and I cried to him, too. Courtney piped up from the backseat: "Mama, make sure to try REALLY hard not to cry." I had to laugh at that point because I wondered if she was saying it through a lens of compassion or embarrassment? After all, we had already had a talk about the difference between happy tears and sad tears a few days before. 

I remember bits and pieces of that conversation, something like "I'm just so happy that you've grown into such a big girl and you'll be going to school." 

"Well," she replied, "You shouldn't cry. You should just be happy that Matthew is going to be at home with you." That's my little girl- always an answer for everything. 

Before you start feeling sorry for me, however, I have to clarify that school will only be two morning per week- about 6 hours total time that she will be in the care of Mrs. "T" (whom I loved when I met today). After meeting the staff and the class pets, I am confident that we made the right choice and so happy for my little girl. We went to parent orientation (props to my hubs for taking off work to come!). I was so blessed to see that Courtney's name was all over the classroom- it made me feel good to see someone taking time to make her feel special. Mrs "T" explained curriculum, snacks, parties, field trips and discipline. One thing she said caught and kept my attention. I could hardly concentrate on anything else for the rest of the meeting. Mrs. T said very plainly: "Our goal in this class is to get them ready for Kindergarten and to teach them to be independent."

INDEPENDENT

I'm not sure I'm ready for my four year old to be independent. 

In the bathroom? Sure. At chore time? Yes, please!

But all I could think about was something I had heard several years ago (I can't remember where): "From the time a child is conceived, it is growing up and away from its reliance on its parents." *WHAAH!* I know it's true, but sometimes I'm just not sure I want it to happen. Think about it: crawling, walking, learning to do things on their own. They have to grow up or we'll be 80 yrs old and still changing the diapers of 55 yr old adults. Can you imagine a 40 year old man begging his mother for juice? Or a 50 year old woman asking her mother to wipe her bottom because she dropped the toilet paper in the floor again? Ok, now I don't feel so bad about letting her become more independent...

But let's take it one step at a time. As I sat with the other parents in tiny orange chairs today (we were quite the sight!) I pictured Courtney growing up before my eyes. She was in high school and I was asking myself where the years had gone. It's times like that when I need to get back to reality and focus on the days I have right now. If I don't want her to grow up before I know it, then I'd better pay attention. Raising children, as someone once told me, is full of very long days and very short years. I want to enjoy the long days while I've got them. Then, when the years have gone by and I'm sitting at her high school graduation I can look back with few regrets, knowing that I she and I experienced her childhood together. 

I am so happy for my daughter. Transitions are often difficult, but I am excited about the adventure that lies ahead for her. I can't wait to see how much she grows over this next year in preparation for Kindergarten, and I look forward to witnessing her become the person God made her to be- as quickly or as slowly as He deems best.

On Being Strict...

I would consider my daughter to be a strong-willed individual. Fortunately, I am also (usually) strong willed, so it doesn't get to me often. Sometimes, however, it does catch me off-guard. Consider this conversation we had earlier today:

Me: What happened?
Her: I pushed the planter thingy and it fell off the tree. Will you put it back on?
Me: Yes. Here we go. Now listen, this thing will fall down if you push it again. Do not push the planter.
Her: But I just want to try it again to see if it falls off.
Me: Don't push the planter. Here, let's go play in the driveway instead. [the neighbor kids were painting our driveway with sidewalk chalk]
Her: Well, [gently pushing my leg] you just go in the house.
Me: No, [getting her idea] do not push the planter.
And then she pushed the planter. So she had to go inside. No more fun with the neighbor kids today. I led her into the house and put her tear-stained face, muddy hands and sidewalk-chalk-covered patooty straight in the tub.

It's times like these when we parents have got to stand our ground. We must be consistent. I was so tempted to say "Well, let's just go inside for a few minutes- just for time out. Then you can come back outside and play with your friends some more." Bad idea. I feel like I did the right thing this time, but how often do I lessen the consequences because I feel sorry for her through those big crocodile tears? I try not to, but I know it happens.

Sometimes I feel so guilty for being strict with her.

Most of all I just hope she knows how much I love her. I hope she grows up with a real understanding that all of the boundaries I placed on her, all of the times I made her go back and re-do a task because she didn't do it right the first time, all of the times I disciplined her for things her friends are allowed to do (like the 3 yr old in our neighborhood who plays in the street alone- GAH!). My husband assures me that she will understand when she's older. So does God's Word. So I can walk in confidence knowing that my being strict with her is really helping her more than it hurts me to see her cry.

Hissy Fits and Fences...

It'll be simple! I thought to myself in my usual naive, optimistic, dreamy tone. (You know, that tone inside my head when I come up with a "great" idea?) I went to the fabric store and got all of the materials. $12.50-ish. awesome- less than half of what I'd pay for one at the store. Then I started cutting...

The camera bag looked great until I got it all together (go ahead, laugh right there). Actually, it was lining up perfectly- it was just too big. It was as big as my huge, over-the-shoulder bag. Hmm. Kind of defeated the purpose there. What I really wanted was one I could stick in my purse when I go out. I wanted something small. My large bag has pockets for everything- SD cards, extra batteries, etc. I thought if I left out some of the pockets I could make a simple, small camera bag. Wrong. It turned out huge- and then I put the zipper on. It looked like a monkey hot-glued it with a blindfold on. In my defense, it was the first time I had ever put on a zipper- not to mention I was going around a square (not the easiest task). So I took it apart. I cried. I poked myself with the seam ripper and bled on my huge, crooked, monkeyesque burst'd bubble. Why is this so hard?!?! 

I put the kids to bed and went back to the kitchen table, ignoring the dinner dishes sitting next to my sewing machine. I was too focused and frustrated after dinner to work on dishes, anyway. I had a task in front of me: tearing that thing apart. I started wondering what else I could do with the pieces I'd cut. Then I remembered a picture I took last week and a blog topic I wanted to write about but just hadn't had the inspiration (until now): Overcoming Obstacles.

Check out this picture:

This is a tree growing through the fence from my front yard into the back. It caught my attention a week ago and I've been watching it ever since. I suppose I often feel like that tree, squeezing through the obstacles in my life, wondering who will win. Will I be triumphant and break the fence down with my mighty boughs? Or will the fence cut off my circulation and kill that part of me that tried to break through? Or, as evidenced by this picture, will I simply grow through and adapt to the obstacles in my life? I'm not sure if you can see it, but the tree is actually growing differently because of this fence. Here is another pic to show you what I mean:

And it's actually flourishing on the other side! I've noticed also that the fence is slowly being pushed out of the way... so I have concluded that this tree will do two things:   1.Overcome the obstacle (though it may take time) and    2.Grow and adapt as it pushes through the obstacle. 

Now, my little problem with the camera bag is nothing compared to some of the things I have faced in the past or that some of my friends are going through right now. But I believe there is hope for the big and the little troubles we are up against. We'll grow. We'll change (hopefully for the better, depending on our attitudes). We'll overcome. I will conquer this camera bag problem. I will learn to calculate my projects more carefully before shelling out the cash. In time I will realize that this problem really wasn't worth getting red faced and crazy over. (Ok, maybe I'm realizing that as I type). Point is, if you're facing an obstacle and it seems like the fence is winning, remember that if Christ lives in your heart there is Life in you. Just like there is life in that tree that will cause it to continue growing to the point that it eventually overcomes the fence. That Life in you has the power to conquer death. That means that we don't have to throw hissy fits and give in to temptation. And so, as I return to the table with a new attitude (thanks for letting me vent!) I leave you with a bit of God's Word: 

"The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you. And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, he will give life to your mortal bodies by this same Spirit living within you.

Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, you have no obligation to do what your sinful nature urges you to do."

~Romans 8:11-12

♪ I'm a Beaver, YAAH! ♫

Just a quick, funny story today:

We had iTunes playing last night in the dining room when we sat down to dinner. I suppose I was trying to create a certain atmosphere after a hectic day. A song came on called "My Redeemer Lives." Courtney and Matthew were rocking out, bobbing their heads. Eventually, Courtney looked up from her spaghetti, smiled and asked, "Why is she being a beaver?" We had no idea what she was talking about, so we prodded for more information. It turns out that she misunderstood the singer's words. When they sang "My Redeemer lives," she thought they were singing, "I'm a beaver, YAAH!" My husband and I cracked up. After a while that's all we could hear. It made the next 2:15 or so quite funny, to say the least!

Now I can't get the song out of my head only, it's the new and improved "Beaver" version! It's been floating around all day, causing me to laugh out loud and embarrass myself in public. I laughed at the mall. I laughed at the library. Even at home I can't stop laughing as I picture the Hillsong crew up on stage, hands lifted high, singing "I'm a beaver! YAAH!!"

You know, just a few days ago I had a really negative song stuck in my head. I asked God to get it out and help me think of a more positive one... maybe this is the answer to my prayer!

♪♫♪♫ I'm a beaver! YAAH!! ♪♫♪♫

The Conviction of a Child...

A few months ago, our church had some sort of special day concerning adoptions. Forgive me for not remembering the details- I wasn't getting much sleep those days with a new baby on my hip. I do remember that they put up pictures of orphans from our area in the foyer. Each picture had the child's name, age and other information. Courtney was curious about it, so I briefly explained that these children didn't have a mommy or a daddy to take care of them. That led to several conversations over the next six or seven months, ranging from "What happened to their parents?" to "How do they get clothes if they don't have a mom & dad?" It was obvious that my daughter left the foyer different that day.

I love the fact that people adopt children. It blesses me to see it happen and to support my friends as they go through the process. I even have a family member who is adopted. It just has never been something heavy on my own heart, though. I would adopt if God asked me to, or if a family situation presented itself, but otherwise it's just not something I feel a longing for at this point in my life. Courtney, however, even at 4 years old is very passionate about adoption. She talks about it often. She is genuinely concerned about the children in orphanages and foster homes. She can't stop thinking about it.

Yesterday I had one of those heart melting conversations with her. I could sense the decisiveness in her voice. She has made up her mind. "Mama, when I'm a grown up I'm gonna get me a kid."

"Get you a kid? What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna get me a kid that doesn't already have a mama or a daddy. And I'm going to make it my own kid and be its mama. And then I'm going to make it a mermaid tail [she's kind of on a mermaid kick] and make it some cookies!"

"That's great, baby! You'll make a really good mama for that kid."

"But how do I get me a kid?"

I went on to explain that you get kids basically two ways: either God puts one in your belly or you go out and find one that doesn't have a mom or dad. Then you make that kid your own. I spared her all the details about courts and birth certificates- that can come when she's older. I told her it's called "adopting".

"Well, I just want the adopting one."

Later that night, as I was recounting the conversation to Keith, I remembered seeing pictures on Facebook of some friends lately. They had a few children of their own, but had adopted a child from Africa as well. It was obvious to me that the grandparents of this adopted child loved this little girl just as much as all of their other grandchildren. I suddenly thought of myself in the same situation. Although I don't really have a personal conviction to adopt, I thought of how beautiful our family might be one day when Courtney and her husband come over to our house, surrounded by children from all different backgrounds who have found a home in her heart. Ok, I'm crying now as I write this!

It's amazing to me that God can start shaping a person's heart and desires at such a young age. I know Courtney well. This is not just a flippant thought like what she'll be for Halloween. This is a deep conviction. 

It makes me wonder how I can nurture her godly convictions as she grows up? Off the top of my head I can think of a few things I could do:

* Encourage her, even when I don't share the same conviction

* Show her scriptures supporting her passions


* Give her practical ways to get involved, even as a child (in this case: donating toys & clothes, going to fund raisers, supporting an orphan through Compassion International or another agency, etc.)


* Never try to talk her out of something just because I'm not comfortable with it (I'm talking about doing godly things that are out of my comfort zone, not crazy things like sky diving- yikes!)


* Make resources available to her


* Teach her how to recognize God's voice


* Realize that "God works in different ways, but it is the same God who does the work in all of us" (1 Corinthians 12:6)- just because God hasn't given me the same desires doesn't make it wrong.


*Let her grow at her own pace

One last thought: I strongly believe that it is dangerous to pass off a godly, Scripture-affirmed conviction in a child as "just a phase". 

Discouraging someone from doing the will of God while they are young will most definitely discourage them from doing His will when they are adults. 

Let God work out your children's convictions and let them decide what to do with them as they grow. Guide and teach them along the way. Support and encourage them. Teach them to discern the will of God. Don't be surprised if it gets you out of your comfort zone. Our children will learn how to handle their passions (godly or not) by the way we handle ours.

God, help me to nurture the convictions you place in my children's hearts as they grow into who You've created them to be.

Jesus, His Dudes, and a Mermaid, Too...

Do you ever have those moments where you try to explain something spiritual to your child, only to have them turn it into something so outrageous that you wonder if they even got the point? Tonight, Courtney wanted me to read straight out of the Bible for her bedtime story. I opened up to the story about Jesus feeding the five thousand. If you're not familiar with the story, Jesus went to a mountainside. A large crowd was following Him. It was late, so He told the disciples they needed to feed the people. A boy had five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus gave thanks and broke the bread, telling the disciples to start distributing it among the people. There were 5,000 men there, not to mention women and children. When everyone was full, they gathered 12 baskets full of leftovers. A miracle!

So after I read the Scripture, I re-told the story in 4 yr old terms, just to be sure she understood. As far as I could tell, she got it. Then she wanted to tell me a story:

"Jesus was a little guy, and all His dudes were playing outside. And then, they had five loaves of bread and two fish and everybody got to eat. And they all said 'YAHOO! YIPPEE! HOORAY!!'"

[Let me just say that at this point I was so proud- I thought "Wow! I think she's got it!" and then...]

All of a sudden, a mermaid came up. And an angel, too. And they had friends with them. The angel's friend was named David. And the mermaid's friend was named Ariel! And they all jumped into the water to get away from the tornado, 'cus it was coming fast! And they jumped into the water as fast as they could so they didn't get sucked up by the tornado."

*sigh*


         *giggle*

I love her imagination. It makes me wonder what God thought of her alternate ending to the story? Children are so creative. They come up with the most amazing things. I imagine that God laughs along with us and listens wholeheartedly, knowing that someday soon they will understand things. From the outside, it would seem that children are lost in a crazy, self-centered fantasy world (and to some extent, perhaps they are). But I believe God uses these formative years to teach them how to have faith. It reminds me of the second half of 1 Samuel 16:7

                      "The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

The more I hear my daughter talk about Jesus, the more I know that she understands more than she can articulate. Somewhere deep inside is a realization of God's reality and certainty of His love for her. I am so glad that God sees the hearts of children- and He loves them so dearly. God, help me to see my children's hearts through Your eyes- instead of just focusing on what I can see on the outside. 

The Mermaid Dress...

Princess Dresses. My beef with the princess dresses from department stores is that they tear and fray so easily. I cringe if anything spills on them because they rip to shreds in the washer. I don't even spend $20-25 on Courtney's regular dresses (I'm cheap  frugal). So why would I spend it on a toy dress that will be ruined within (usually) a day of buying it? That's not to say I don't or won't buy the dresses, but I just feel better about my own because I know they'll last a little longer.

Ok, getting down from my soap box now...

So I got out my sewing machine. I love making dress up clothes for my daughter. Well, I don't actually like the process of making them, but I love the end result. Today I spent two hours in the living room floor with my sewing machine and a really pretty sequin fabric. My mission was to make a mermaid tail. Halfway through sewing the fins on, Courtney comes up to me, holds two tiny triangle shaped scraps to her chest and asks if I can make her "some little chesties". She's four, so the little chesties turned out more like a tank top.  Still, it's so cute and I'm just glad to have one more dress up dress that I can wash.

Afterward I enjoyed watching her "swim" all through the house, rescuing sharks and playing with Flounder. This dress is especially fun because she has been "Ariel" for two weeks now, calling her Daddy "King Triton" every chance she gets. Today I asked if she wanted me to text him a picture, but she said she'd rather surprise him in person when he gets home, haha! (I love my girl!)

Here are a few pics. I just wanted to post something because I was so excited at how it turned out!

 I left slits at the legs to allow for extra room to jump. 

It ties in the back and the fin is just stuffed with pillow stuffing.

The Good Old Days...

It's nearly 11pm. I have put the kids to bed, given my husband a dose of NyQuil (poor guy has a head cold) and put on my PJ's... but I'm far from sleepy. I drank a coke at dinner in anticipation of staying up late to watch a ball game, but we got rained out. So here we are at my regular bed time and I'm wide awake.

I thought I'd sit at the computer for a while, so I put on my robe. Something was in my pocket- a stale piece of a bagel from who knows when. Hmmm. One of those things that happens, I suppose. It did remind me, however, of something I wanted to write about: The Good Old Days.

A few days ago, I made pancakes for breakfast. (Hang in there, I'll get to the point.) The kids love them because I put food coloring in them to make them sort of tie-dyed. We call them Rainbow Pancakes. They are the only kind Courtney will eat at our house. It's become a fun little tradition.

So after our Rainbow Pancakes that day, I cleaned up the dining room and got the dishes done. Matthew took a nap while Courtney played. Several hours passed before Matthew woke up and started exploring the house again. He went under the table and started fiddling with Courtney's booster seat. I thought he was just playing with the straps, so I let him continue his little game, keeping a not-so-close eye on him while I made lunch. All of a sudden, I noticed him eat something green and then spit it out. He made an awful face and looked at me as if to say, "What IS this?!?" I crawled under the table and took the mystery snack from him- ah, a green tie-dyed pancake. It must have been lodged up under the booster seat.

The poor guy probably thought, SCORE! Pancakes! I love these things!! but was quite disappointed when he was met with a stiff, stale remnant of what was once a glorious breakfast.

A thought suddenly popped into my head: "Don’t long for 'the good old days.' This is not wise." Ecclesiastes 7:10.


Have you ever seen the movie, Napoleon Dynamite? Napoleon and his brother Kip have an uncle named Rico. He complains that his coach didn't put him in the game in the 4th quarter, so he feels like his whole life has been one big mistake since that day. He's stuck in the past and hasn't been able to move on. Rico still lives in the "good old days". He spends his time making videos of himself throwing a football out in an open field. It's pretty funny, but also quite sad if you think about it.

Do you know of anyone who lives in the past? I'm talking more than hairstyles and clothes. I'm talking about a person's spirit not being able to experience life in the present because they're stuck in some other season of their life.

Personally, I didn't think I had a problem with this until I realized that in many ways I have lived in the past spiritually. Let me explain: In college, my relationship with God was amazing. I had free time in between classes, so I read the Bible constantly. I went to a Lifegroup or a Bible Study, a prayer meeting or a church service almost every day. I lived with awesome Christian women who encouraged me, kept me accountable and prayed for me continually. I felt like I knew what it meant to abide in Christ. I knew the Scriptures better than I do now (it helped that I was taking Bible classes at Baylor). I went on mission trips and saw miracle after miracle. I remember seeing a deaf man healed and countless other incredible things. For me, those were the "good old days".

I moved from Waco, lost touch with many of my close friends (at least on a day to day basis) and stopped seeing the big, demonstrative miracles I had seen before. I "church hopped" for months before finding a church I loved. Without constant accountability I just wasn't stepping out in courage. I wasn't stretching my faith. I wasn't staying consistent in my relationship with God. I started to get very comfortable in a religious lifestyle based on performance rather than my relationship with God. Don't get me wrong, I still connected with God and saw Him do amazing things over the next few years- just not to the degree I had seen in my college days. My exponential growth had slowed to a little bunny slope.

I would often look back at those days and let them feed my soul. Now, there's nothing wrong with remembering and being encouraged, but you have to understand that I was feasting almost exclusively on the past. I was eating stale, tie-dyed pancakes. Instead of experiencing God in the present, I just kept reliving old miracles.

Then one day, I woke up and realized it's been 7 years since I graduated from college. SEVEN YEARS. What was I still doing living in my early 20's? It challenged me. To be honest, I wasn't at all comfortable- but God doesn't promise He'll make us comfortable. He does, however, promise to make us more like Christ as we behold HIS GLORY. It begs the question: What will bring about change in my life- to behold the Glory Days and try to recreate them? Or to behold Christ and let Him recreate me? (2 Corinthians 5:17)

So I've refocused my attention. Instead of staring back, I want to stare into the face of Christ. Instead of looking at what has been, may I look at what can be. I will never- never- grow to maturity in my relationship with God if I always look back at the one or two events that changed my life, but don't experience His power in a fresh way from this point forward. I'll be stuck in the good old days. You'll find me out in a field one day with a video camera trying to read a tract in Spanish with a German accent (yup- that's me).

I am so thankful for God's grace. You know, when I took that stiff, green pancake from my son, I didn't say "Oh, well- just take it. I know how much you love pancakes!" NO! I took it away from him and gave him some lunch- fresh lunch. Warm lunch. Healthy lunch. All that was left to him was the memory of the pancake breakfast. That's all he needed. That's all we need, too- the memories to remind us of God's faithfulness and power. Why eat stale pancakes when we can enjoy a fresh feast of His love and power any time we want it?

Creativity Loosed...

I consider myself to be a fairly creative person. I've always enjoyed making things. I love crafting and painting, writing stories and songs, building, gluing and sewing. I always come out with more than I intended to buy when I go to Hobby Lobby. The thing about my creativity is that I insist that it be practical. I'm not sure why. Maybe because of the collection of strange and cumbersome (albeit fun to make!) objects I've collected and, consequently, had to throw out over the years?

That said, I have found plenty of ways to be creative since having children. I've made dress up clothes, crib bedding, curtains, wall decor and more. I even took a picture of my baby in a giant wash tub and hung it in our bathroom (free for me, since I already had the frame- $14.95 at the store for a kid I don't even know!) It's tons of fun and very practical. It hits a chord deep within me that I think God put there on purpose.

When I look at His creativity I see both beauty and practicality. I see colors on butterflies and ladybugs. I see rushing waters. I see petals on flowers. I see a child's eyes. As I observe all that He has made I can't help but notice that He made everything beautiful in its own special way. I also notice that the things He has made are all useful in one way or another. Not only that, but I see glimpses of God's character in everything He created. That's what I strive for. I want my creativity to flow from my personality into the things around me. To make things beautiful. To make what could be done in black and white full of color instead. If it can be done in canvas, let's make it out of silk- just to spice things up a bit. Let's make our own wall decor instead of buying something that 100,000 other Americans have hanging over their couches. I have so many ideas, but not enough wall space!

I admire people who can be creative just for the sake of being creative- and still find a use for what they've made. I want to give a shout-out to one such friend who has a blog that I love to visit. If you're looking for creative ideas and the courage to do that project you've been thinking of for months now, just check her out. Her work has inspired me many times to get out my sewing machine or paintbrushes. I love the passion she puts into everything she does. Through it all I can see her love for her family and her tenacity for making her house their "home". That's the kind of creativity I love- the kind that means something. 


That's not to say that being creative must always be practical. Sometimes it's just fun. Sometimes it's a stress relief. What is it for you? Practical? Fun? Foreign? If you're new to this whole creativity thing, I recommend starting where you are. Start with your kids. Glue macaroni noodles to construction paper. Go online to find all kinds of crafts, coloring pages (even for moms!), nifty tips and more! Check with your local library to see what sorts of crafting seminars are going on. Our library offered a quilting class not long ago (and it was super cheap!). If you're up to it, try an art class. I plan on taking a painting class one of these days (maybe when all of my kids are in school and I have time during the day???). Go out with a friend, cameras in hand, and take pictures of anything and everything you think might look good on a post card. You can critique each other's work and encourage one another along the way. 


The point is, go have fun. If you're too practical (like me), just get out of the box for an hour this weekend and try something new. Who cares if you have to throw it away? You might just like it enough to hang it in the living room! 

Sick Day...

I woke up at 3:30 yesterday morning to make Matthew a bottle. I could hear him crying, so I went into the kitchen, warmed the milk under the faucet and fiddled around in the dishwasher until I found all of the bottle pieces. My stomach ached, but I decided it was just indigestion from dinner the night before. When I walked into Matthew's room, I smelled something foul. Yep, it was throw up. He had a fever, too. I calmed him down, changed the sheets, changed his diaper and PJ's, wiped down the mattress with a Clorox wipe, the whole bit. He didn't want the bottle, so I rocked him back to sleep and prayed quietly that he would get better.

As I lay back down, my stomach began to churn and hurt. I felt nauseated. Indigestion. I thought to myself again. It took almost an hour, but I finally fell back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning I was sick. So much for the indigestion theory, right? Courtney came into my room begging for breakfast. Matthew let out that "Get me outta here!" cry from his bedroom. I knew I had a long day ahead of me.

I'm tough! I thought to myself. I can do anything as long as I'm relying on God to be my strength! I prayed and started the day.

Thankfully, Matthew slept a lot. I think he took 3 or 4 naps (probably due to the Tylenol for his fever). He was in a good mood during his awake times. Courtney is almost self-sufficient at this point. She played quietly in her room most of the day. Now and then I would hear the refrigerator open or the pantry door slam shut. I ventured out of my bed a few times to find half-eaten biscuits, string cheese and tortillas lying around the house, but I was just glad she was able to get her own food.

I learned an important lesson. You see, I have been meaning to learn how to rest for awhile now. It's not something I've ever been very good at. I'm more of a task-oriented person. I don't like idle time. I have a hard time sitting on the couch to think or read. I love getting out of the house to drive around town, walk around the mall or whatever. I have a hard time being still. I've come to blame my children for my restlessness, but I discovered yesterday that it's all me. They don't need me to run around like a chicken with my head cut off in order to get through their days. I felt like God whispered to my heart a few days ago that I needed to model rest to them if they were to learn it. Getting sick was just what I needed to kick into gear.

Yesterday I couldn't help it. I was sick. (REALLY sick.) Courtney and Matthew each had time in my bed where we sat quietly. Courtney and I talked about all sorts of things. Matthew and I played little games (peek-a-boo and what-not). It was awesome (except for the part when Courtney decided to jump on the bed). Today I have been trying to take it easy. I don't feel sick, but since I got so dehydrated yesterday I want to make sure I don't overdo it. So this morning I made it a point to turn on the radio in Courtney's room and read to the kids. They loved it. We sat quietly, listening to the music. I realized that many times I feel busy but I'm not very productive. I also realized that I need to take time to rest each day. I used to do that in college to alleviate stress. I'd draw, play guitar, play racquetball (not resting in the traditional sense, but restful to me)- anything to take my mind off of the day-to-day busyness and refresh my mind, soul & body. So now I'm on a mission to find time each day to rest. I'm sure it will be different every day, but I need it, nonetheless.

So my question for all of you: How do you rest? What is your escape? I'd love to hear your comments, as I'm still new to all of this. I could use all the help I can get!

Oh, and one more thing: The world didn't come to an end just because I spent most of the day in bed. Sure, food was strung all over the house and I found blue highlighter on several objects (came off easily, so I'm not too stressed). But overall it was a good day- and we just picked up today as if nothing were out of the ordinary. I have to give props to my husband, who stayed home from a meeting to help me out. He fed the kids and got them to bed, cleaned up and made things so easy for me. I was able to go to bed at 8pm! It just made me wonder if I were to practice resting instead of driving myself crazy go-go-going 24/7, how different could life be?

Clean Freak...

We have an unspoken rule in our house: your room should be clean before you go to bed. (Not that I always personally adhere to it- it's mostly for the kids). We started this about 2 years ago when Courtney first started sleeping in a big-girl bed. We were worried that if her toys were all over the floor, she might wake up in the middle of the night. Then, either A) she could trip on them and fall, or B) Keith and I would be digging Barbie shoes out of our feet in the dark. No fun for anybody. So we started cleaning up before bedtime as part of her daily chores.

We didn't have to try hard. Courtney is, by nature, a very organized person. She has a place for everything and everything goes in its place. Very rarely do I find a kitchen toy in her shoe basket or a Barbie in the toy box. She has baskets and buckets and shelves, and is very particular about how things go. This is an amazing quality, from the viewpoint of a mom. I've tried my best to encourage it, but last night I couldn't stop laughing about it!

Courtney had gone to bed: teeth brushed, story, bedtime prayers, the whole bit. She had been quiet for about 5 minutes, when all of a sudden she started to cry hysterically. She rushed out of her room, tears flowing down her face, hands clasped together in a way that would put the best beggars to shame.

"Oh, Daddy!" She cried in a pitiful, Shirley Temple impression. "Oh, Daddy, oh Daddy!!"
"Yes, Courtney?"
"Oh, Daddy, I just have to put things away, but I don't know where they go. They're all out and they're not where they go! I don't know what to do! I have to put them away, Daddy! Oh, Daddy, will you help me put them away?"

Keith tried not to laugh, but had to turn his head and regain his composure before answering her. Of course, it didn't help that I was sitting behind her, clasping my hands together, mouthing "Oh, Daddy! Help me, Daddy!" I can't remember what was out of sorts. Keith went into her room and helped her with it, whatever it was.

The point is, I can't decide if we've created a monster or a miracle? This is not the first time it's caused trouble. Her messy room has kept us from going to the mailbox, the grocery store and countless other places until it was clean. (Of course, I just go to the mailbox alone now that she's older, and she finally understands that she can clean up when she gets home.) She's just always been that way.

I hope she keeps it up (but learns to balance it). I mean, really- wouldn't it be nice to have a teenager who insists that her room be tidy before going to a friend's house after school? Or would it be a nightmare to have a teenager who is late to school every morning because she insisted that she get all of her laundry put away before heading to the bus stop? Hmmm. I'm not quite sure what I'm in for, but I'm happy to be on the ride!

Behavior Beanie Bags??

I just wanted to share my latest stroke of genius with you all...

A few weeks ago, I was at the mall with the kiddos. They do fine while we're walking up and down the main strip or looking at "kid stuff", but when it comes to finding a new shirt for mommy, well, they're less than patient. They have nothing to keep them interested (aside from racks of clothes which they've been told not to jump into). So in a pinch, I pulled out some pennies from my purse. I gave them to Courtney (age 4) and told her they were "Good Attitude Pennies". If she was behaving, she could keep them and put them in her piggy bank when she got home. If she misbehaved, not only would she receive the usual consequence but would have to give me a penny as well. It worked GREAT!

I've used similar reward systems several times since, at different places, using different objects from my purse (today we used an old sticker with no sticky left to it) and different prizes: get to play at the mall playground an extra 5 minutes, get to pick the flavor of yogurt we buy, get some gummy fruit snacks when we get home, get to pick if we have green beans or broccoli at dinner, etc. Nothing extravagant. Just privileges she would already have, if her behavior were good.

This serves merely as a reminder to help her think about how she is behaving in the moment. She carries around the object and I ask her every 5-10 minutes if she still has her "Good Attitude" with her. Another plus is that it's a GREAT distraction when I need her to sit still for a few minutes. Kids can make up all sorts of games on the spot!

So today I had my sewing machine out, finishing Matthew's new crib sheets. Before I put it away, I made little trinkets (bean bags) to serve as my new "Behavior Beanies" (because anything that ends in an "ie" sound is automatically fun for a 4 yr old, right?). If you know how to sew, you probably don't need to continue on with this tutorial but if you're new to this, here is what I did:

STEP 1
Fold fabric in half so that it is 2 layers thick. Trace a pattern onto the back side of fabric. Then, with front sides together, cut out shapes.

STEP 2
Sew around the shape, leaving a space large enough to turn your fabric inside out and put beans inside:

STEP 3:
Turn right-side-out (a pencil helps) and fill with beans. Not too many, just enough to make an interesting texture to keep your child busy:

STEP 4
Fold in the open top (use that pencil again, if you have to) and sew closed. You can hand stitch or use your machine, as long as you don't have too many beans in there. And that's it! I made different shapes to keep things interesting. If you mess up, don't sweat it. Just make it fun:

And so, these little guys live in my purse now, along with who knows what else?!? But at least I'll have them in a pinch, when Courtney needs a little help remembering her good attitude and manners.

Oh, to be loved...

Today I wanted to post a video and lyrics to one of my favorite David Crowder Band songs. The video is cool but can be distracting if you're trying to focus on the words, so I've posted the words below if you want to scroll down and follow along while the song plays.


One of my all-time favorite scriptures describes who Jesus is. It's found in Colossians 1:15-20.

"The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.

 For in him all things were created:

 things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities;

 all things have been created through him and for him.

 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the

 dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him,and through him to reconcile to 

himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by

 making peace through his blood, shed on the cross."

What are the ramifications of being loved by the One who holds the earth in the palm of His hand? By the only One with the power to reconcile all things to Himself? If we were to make a list it would compare to a mere drop in the ocean. Just let this song wash over your soul today and remember that God loves you- and I mean that more than just in the cheesy Vacation Bible School smiley-face sticker way. I mean, really. He LOVES you. Like a perfect Father to his children. Like a Husband to his bride. Like a Friend. Like a Creator to His creation. He LOVES you. Just sit and think about that for a bit while this song plays.






He is jealous for me, Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us so

He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.


We are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way

And oh, how He loves us oh
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us so


Yeah, He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.

Disappointment...

Today I'm processing about disappointment. Recently (as in about 30 minutes ago) I found out that the owner of a house we want can not meet us at a reasonable price for our budget. I had let myself fall completely in love with this house. In my mind, it was perfect.

But then again, a lot of things that I thought were perfect for me were actually not at all what I needed. Specifically, I recall the disappointments I faced in my twenties- maybe because they were the most recent? I was disappointed that I couldn't get financial aid as a ministry major, so I majored in social work instead. It was an amazing journey- I learned much about myself and what it means to be the hands and feet of Jesus. I was disappointed when my freshman roommate decided to live alone, but I was given the privilege of rooming with an amazing girl from Ukraine for two years. We became great friends. I felt disappointed when several relationships didn't work out, but I found Keith and have been happily married for 6 yrs- and I wouldn't trade him. I would re-live those disappointments again and again to gain the experiences that followed and the lessons I learned.

I suppose disappointment is just part of the journey to becoming mature in our relationship with Christ. It reminds us to seek His face, not His hands so to speak. I have to be reminded from time to time to thank God for who He is, not just what He does. At the end of the day, no matter what disappointments I have faced, I can remember that God is faithful. He loves me. He wants what is best for me, and if I am submitted to Him I will find His will. He has a plan for me that is good, not harmful. It will prosper me. It will bless my life. (See Jeremiah 29:11) So what is the point in wallowing in self pity because this one thing didn't work out? Good question.

I still feel sad about the situation, but I have a new perspective through which to process my thoughts. I am not necessarily throwing my hands up to say "I give up"- I know God could still do a miracle here. But even if nothing else ever comes of this, I can still have hope that God will provide a place for us that really is perfect- a place that will cause me to look back on this situation and think, "I'm so glad that didn't work out." I can rest assured that He will do something good in my heart through all of this as well. And I'm thankful for that hope- my Hope- Jesus.

Isn't it amazing to know that our Hope is not just a feeling, but a real, living Person with the power to do immeasurably more than we could ever ask or imagine? (See Ephesians 3:20).

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. ~Romans 8:28

Friends...

Today was a beautiful day. Oh, it rained, for sure- it rained hard. The sun barely poked through the clouds for a few moments. But it was a beautiful day in my heart. Nothing incredible happened, but I was blessed to spend a few hours of my day with some beautiful women (inside and out) at our playgroup and then at lunch- and it blessed my heart.

I've always been one of those "I can do it alone" types. When I worked on team projects at school, I often felt as if the other students were getting in my way. It's not that they weren't helping, but that I didn't know how to receive help. God has used motherhood to straighten out some of those issues in my life, and I'm sure He will continue to work them out as I continue on my journey.

One way He has opened my eyes to my need for help is through Bible Studies and Playgroups geared toward moms of little ones. These groups have been such a blessing. Sometimes, as a stay-at-home mom, a person can feel overwhelmed and lonely when faced with the challenges that everyday life & child-rearing bring. It is so nice to hear someone vent about their child's egotistical rants, potty training issues and ear infections. (It's not nice to hear it because my kids never do those things- and it's definitely not what I want my friends to go through, but it's nice to hear it because I've been there and felt that! ) Of course, those complaints are always balanced by the cute stories of the same children exploring new places, experiencing new activities and crawling up into our laps to whisper "I love you" just before inciting a tickle fight. One of the great things about playgroups and mom-centered Bible studies is that we can all encourage each other, pray for each other and support each other in ways that only someone living in the same, diaper filled trenches can do.

Let me also add that there are amazing friends without kids who have some kind of strange way of understanding their "mom friends", even though they haven't experienced motherhood yet. They are incredibly important to me and help me to remember that life does not actually revolve around my children, haha! (Sometimes I need that glimpse into reality.) One such friend met me for lunch today. I was so encouraged to watch her interact with Courtney and Matthew while I ran back and forth from the table to the salad bar, the bathroom and the ice cream machine. Friends like that are hard to find, and so special.

*Smile*

I am so blessed to have friends who "get" what I'm going through- the good, the bad and the stinky- and love me anyway. So thank you, ladies, both near and far, who have taught me much about accepting help & advice through the most important and difficult challenge I face each day.

Freaking Out...

I know I've said it before, but I am amazed at how much I have learned about myself and God through my relationship with my children. Their behavior is oftentimes a reflection of my own attitudes and behaviors toward God.

Over the last few weeks we've been learning about hearing God in our church. A few days ago, as I was talking to my husband about one of the sermons, a simple picture entered my mind. I understood immediately what it meant.

Many times, when our four year old is upset, she works herself into such a frenzy that she literally cannot process anything we say. The picture that entered my mind that day was of me, holding my little girl's face in my hands, calmly trying to get her attention: "Baby, Courtney, Courtney. Look at me. Listen. Shhhhh. Let's calm down and listen." It usually takes a few minutes before she calms down enough to hear me out. All the while, as her head is in my hands, her eyes are roaming from side to side, usually looking at whatever caused her grief in the first place. When she finally looks into my eyes, her attitude changes. It's as if she realizes that I'm on her team, ready to help. She usually sits in my lap at that point and we talk about her problem.

I realized that sometimes I do the same thing with God. There are times when I get so worked up in a tizzy about my current crisis (big or small) that I can't even begin to process what God is saying. Even as He's speaking peace to my heart I'm looking at my problem, ignoring His words. I wonder how quickly I could get through some of my tough times if, instead of looking at my problem and freaking out, I would just look into God's eyes, sit in His lap and talk to Him about it like a big girl?

Let's all be big girls today.

Weaning...

A few people have asked me lately how weaning is going. "So far so good!" I'd tell them with a smile. For the last few weeks, Matthew (my recently-turned 1 yr old) has been on whole milk during the day and only one nursing session in the middle of the night. Everything was going beautifully. He transitioned to a sippy cup and solid food with no problems. He loves whole milk so much that he tries to drink it from the jug when I set it beside him in the grocery cart. He has always been my good sleeper, and for the past several months he's been sleeping through the night with one (sometimes two) feedings. YAY ME!! I thought to myself, as I remembered how tough it was to get my first born to sleep through the night.

Then 3 nights ago everything changed. There was no more milk. Where did it go? I have no idea, but it's gone. Matthew nursed but wasn't satisfied. He then drank 12 oz of warm whole milk before going back to sleep. I was up for 2 hours or more- I can't remember. The next night he wanted nothing to do with the bottle. He had a few sips and then let me rock him to sleep with "Nummy" (pacifier). Now here we are on night three (it's 3:50am as I'm writing this post).

Let me interject for just a moment to let you know that Nummy is gone. We have no idea where he is. This is a big problem for a weaning baby! A Nummy is a mom's best friend when the baby wants what he can't have. *sigh* We've searched the house high and low, looked in shoes, emptied laundry baskets, checked drawers and looked under beds. I remember where it was when we returned from the grocery store. I told myself: So that's where it is- I need to remember that at bedtime. When bedtime rolled around it was nowhere in sight. We put one of Courtney's old Nuks in the crib with him, but he prefers the big round green ones, so it was a long shot. And yes, we only have one. (Mistake #1).

Oh, and he's teething.

Back to the story.

He woke up at 1:48. Our pediatrician's words rang in my ear: He doesn't need to eat in the middle of the night. You can try other methods for getting him to self-soothe. So, I let him cry for just a few minutes. Then I remembered that Nummy was MIA, so I decided to get him some milk. I fumbled my way to the fridge and put the milk in a sippy cup because I couldn't find a bottle (Mistake #2). I went into his room and offered the cup and Alternate Nummy, only to be met with fits and tears. I put him back in the bed and went to my room to let him cry it out for a few minutes (Mistake #3).

A few minutes turned into an hour and 10 minutes. I tried twice more to comfort him, but he was so worked up that he could not calm down. It was obvious that he wanted to nurse, and quite clear that he was not happy about his new feeding arrangements. Finally, at 3am I took him to the living room, turned on a lamp and grabbed a  lift-a-flap book. Suddenly he was all smiles. He drank his milk, played with his toys, ate some Lucky Charms, finished off part of my apple and went back to bed- at 3:56am. So here we are now at 4am and I hear him wimpering.

No Nummy. I'm sure that's the reason. I have no idea where it is. This morning I searched for twenty minutes before finding it in a pair of panties in the living room floor. (My oldest decided the laundry basket was her cat cage, so she had to dump the folded laundry onto the floor and trap her brother). We were going to the doctor's office for shots, so I searched desperately. Literally 2 seconds after saying Amen I found it and thanked God for answering my prayer. I didn't find it tonight, however, so I can only assume that God has a lesson He wants me to learn from all of this.

Now he's crying full force. It is 4:10.

One thing I have enjoyed over the last few nights is the quiet time I've had once he falls back to sleep. I seem to hear God best in the middle of the night- possibly because I am not distracted by to-do lists or children or social media (yeah, I said it). On average, it takes me a full 30-45 minutes to fall to sleep, so I've had a lot of down time to think, pray and just be still. Right now I'm listening to a thunderstorm outside. Matthew's cries are beginning to wane. Maybe he'll go to sleep again soon? I don't know, it's just nice to be quiet, still and alone sometimes when your day is full of busyness and noise.

4:14am

The storm is picking up, but the thunder sounds further away.

Matthew is still crying.

4:25am

I took a short break to watch Anita Renfroe on Youtube. Somewhere in the last few minutes Matthew fell soundly to sleep. I think I'll head to bed as well. I love lying in bed listening to the rain. And to think, if Matthew had slept all night I would have missed it!

Perhaps tomorrow we'll find Nummy... poor, lost, lonely & afraid Nummy.

O' Nummy, where art thou?

How to Make a Tulle Skirt...

YAY!! Today's post is a how to!

I have to give credit to my friend, Kelly H., for this one. She brought the idea to me and we both agreed that it was super cute and super easy! (I apologize if this is somewhere online already.) So we arranged a playdate/craftdate. The girls played while we sewed. Our girls love these skirts, and it's a great way to recycle some of those shorts that still fit in the waist but are too short. Here's what we did:

Materials Needed:
Shorts (Kelly used a jean skirt and it worked great!)
2" Ribbon (Length will depend on the circumference of your skirt)
Approx. 1 yd Tulle (we used 2 colors to add some flare- get more than 1 yd if you're making a larger skirt)
Scissors
Pins
Thread
Measuring Tape
Safety Pin
Sewing Machine

STEP 1:
Decide where you want the tulle to start. I put the shorts on my daughter, held up some tulle and then put a safety pin where I thought it might look good. Later you can measure all around from that one point to make sure you get it all even.

STEP 2: Iron the ribbon in half, so that it makes a nice cranny for the tulle:

STEP 3:
Fold the tulle in halves lengthwise until you get the desired thickness. We folded about 3 times. Pin it at the top so it won't slip when you sew. (There are no pins in my pic- sorry!) Use a basting stitch to cause tulle to ruffle. I set my stitch length on 5.0. Do not backstitch. **BE SURE TO LEAVE LOTS OF THREAD AT BOTH ENDS!!**

STEP 4: Pull threads to cause tulle to ruffle. Run your fingers up and down the top so that the ruffle evens out:

Should look something like this:

STEP 5:
Tuck the top edge of the ruffled tulle into the ribbon you ironed earlier. Pin in place and stitch a seam at the lower edge. **BE SURE TO READJUST YOUR STITCH SETTING TO A NORMAL STITCH!!** (I always forget that part!)

STEP 6:
Pin the tulle addition onto the shorts. Measure from the safety pin to the leg hem to find the right length, then use that measurement all around the shorts to make sure you're pinning it on evenly. Start at a seam (I used the middle back seam- you can use a side or the back). At this point, I made my daughter try it on again (being careful of the pins) just to make sure it was where I wanted it. Once pinned, sew it onto the shorts. I took my time on this part to make sure I didn't accidentally sew the shorts together (Note: And I still sewed them together a bit, haha!)

That's it! You're all done! Afterward, I trimmed the tulle because it looked a little long. It was super easy and our girls loved being "twins" at church a few days later. I used the leftover ribbon to make a bow. Kelly made a bow she can pin onto the skirt. The ideas are endless!

Enjoy!!