Tonight, on the way home from Bible study, I leaned over and put my head on Jeremy’s shoulder and just squeezed his arm.  I was just so happy to be alone with him.  Obviously, his mind was on the kids, because he said “Can I just lay down and sleep?” which they OFTEN ask on the way home from Bible study.  So I played along, because when we say “No” then they often, in a very whiny voice say “But I can’t stay awake!” even though the drive is a mere 15 minutes.  Guess their little ghosts are in the back seat even if there bodies aren’t present!


Thursday:

I get up at 6 AM, as usual.  No reason to try and be quiet, I am in the house alone. Usually, I don’t run water in the sink upstairs for fear of waking Nikki, who will then need something to do (other than sleep) while I exercise.

The house seems strangely empty and quiet. Almost lonely.  And oh.my.word, so cleaned up. Pristine, almost.  I’m still lovin’ it, but it just doesn’t feel quite right.

I go downstairs to exercise, but instead of exercising right away, I look up some websites that I have been wanting to check out for things to do with the kids once they get back from Ohio.  I lay them on my desk so I don’t forget to talk to them about going to Duluth to see the “Tall Ships” and to ask them if they would like to spend a day at the “Hunt Hill Audubon Sanctuary”, who offers day camps centered around things that the boys would LOVE...animals, fishing, rocks, reptiles, etc.  

(Picture from June 12th, when we celebrated "Father's Day")

Soon I headed off to work, so that seemed pretty normal.  But after work, just driving home, not picking up the kids...that was kind of weird. And kind of nice.  No one asking for supper, no one fighting or bickering, no one wondering “What are we going to be doing tonight?”  That question is Nikki's specialty. She is constantly asking me "Where are we going today?" or "Where are we going tonight?"  I guess maybe she's got a little control freak and planner in that little 3 year old head of hers that just wants to know what the schedule is. Remind you of anyone? Nah. I didn't think so.

Jeremy and I had plans to go to a Bible study tonight (again), so we weren’t home long before it was time to leave.  I was getting dressed to go, choosing to wear my white jeans, for once, since hopefully no one would be touching me with dirty hands, and I put them on and felt in the pocket, because there seemed to be a little lump there.  Sure enough.  It was (and do not ask me HOW this got there) a little fuzzy, white mouse that Nikki had made once upon a time, out of those little pom-pom balls.  It made me miss her, and all of the random stuff that shows up in random places when you have kids in the house.

Plus, I had called to Ohio earlier in the afternoon in hopes of chatting with the kids, and Gramma Betty had told me that “this probably wasn’t a  good time for ‘Little Girl’” as she had just gotten through a little crying spell cuz she was missing me.  Ok, I’m not gonna lie, that was a little hard. I wanted to just be teleported to Ohio, hold her and put her to sleep for the night (because she was overly tired) and then be teleported back to Wisconsin. Being this far away feels a little helpless, but I am trusting she will be all right.  She’s a fairly independent little thing. Gramma also reported that the boys are doing SO well, running all around, having fun and, she didn’t say this, but not missing us one bit, I am sure.

We may or may not have rubbed it in our friends faces just a tad tonight...the fact that we are without kids for over a week.  When one of their kids climbed up on the hood of someone else’s van, we may or may not have said something like “Oh, our kids would NEVER do that!!” Thankfully, they have all met our kids...therefore they knew that we were totally joking.  But yeah, I think there was some jealousy amongst the group. We are all in the throes of the children years right now and I think everyone yearns for a little break now and then!

We got home at 9:30 and since there were no children to tuck in and say prayers with and make sure they went potty, we just got ourselves ready for bed and that was it.  Simple enough. But it feels so different.

Last night when I had sat down across the kitchen table from Jeremy, just he and I, I looked at him and said “I don’t even remember it ever being like this...just me and you.  It seems totally foreign.”  Even though we were married for 3.5 years before we had kids, its been almost 9 years since it has been “just us” and I can barely remember sitting down at the table with just him.  Weird!


Friday:

Today looms in front of me as an empty day. I don’t have to work.  I am excited at the prospects.

But then it started to fill up:  Get groceries,  exercise, run trailer tire to Hayward for Jeremy, deliver some firewood a little distance away, go to a couple of garage sales, get packed to leave for the race, make something for snack at church on Sunday (or at least figure out what I am making). My idea of sitting around in my reading chair all day is flying out the window...and quickly!

Turns out...my kids are what keep me responsible. Here, all along, I thought it was me and my grown up and responsible personality.  

When I don’t have anywhere I HAVE to be right now...and no one waiting on me...I find that I am capable of wasting HUGE chunks of time.

Like today.  You saw my list up above of what I needed to do this morning.

Well, I did all that. But I also went to two clothing stores and spent inordinate amounts of time at those stores, as I did at the one garage sale. Just browsing. Trying on things. No one was waiting for me. No one was asking for a snack. I didn’t have to be home until it was time to get ready to leave for the race.  Woo hoo!  Mommy’s on a break.  I took advantage of it to the max.  I didn’t get home until after 1 PM and even then I didn’t kick it into high gear.  

It was like being without the kids made me lose all track of time and what I was to be doing when.  I chatted on the phone with a friend, and VERY uncharacteristically for me, lost track of time and realized it was 15 minutes until time to leave and I had not showered or gotten myself dressed and still had to carry food to the camper and finish up packing for myself. Needless to say, I did NOT get all of that done in 15 minutes and I had a slightly crabby and probably somewhat baffled husband waiting for me.  We pulled out the drive 22 minutes after we were supposed to leave for the race we were planning to attend tonight.

They left today.

At 5:12 PM I pulled out the parking lot of the supper club where I met my sister and her husband to transfer to kids to their vehicle, which was about to make the long trek to Ohio, and then on to North Carolina.

The kids are going to be gone for 9 days before Jeremy and I have to leave to go to Ohio and pick them up.

9 Days!!!

I am beyond excited.  Within the last couple days, if there was fighting or bickering, I would tell myself “Just two more days.”  or “Just 4 more hours of this.”

Instead of feeling more tolerant of their little spats and issues, I found myself getting less and less tolerant as the time for them to leave drew nearer. It was as if the possibility and taste of freedom made me all the more anxious for it.

I spent Wednesday entertaining some overnight guests, then packing up everything I thought the children would need for their visit to their grandparents in Ohio.  We didn’t, however, pack the cowboy boots and hats, much to Derrick dismay, as the vehicle my sister and her husband were taking was just.a.tad. crowded already.  I guess those boys will be attending the rodeo in a little less style than they had hoped.

After I had their stuff packed up and delivered to my sister, I set about getting things in order. The day before I had made them/helped them clean their rooms.  Why should I spend a part of my 9 days of freedom cleaning up their mess?  So, that was done and now I wanted to just get everything else in order.

I don’t think you can understand, unless you are a Mom with a personality like mine, how MUCH I crave order and neatness.  The peace and sense of calm it brings to my soul to look around my house and see everything in place, right where I left it.  The way that my mind feels more clear, I feel more focused, and I dare say I even feel closer to God when my house is in order.

Enter three little kids and you can maybe understand why the clutter and clean up involved with a family sometimes nearly drives me over the edge. Yeah, I’ve relaxed over the years...out of necessity. I cannot spend every waking moment cleaning up.  But the desire for that order and neatness is still there...apparently not too deeply buried.

So, I had the house all neat and tidy before the kids ever left, so that when I walked back through that door after dropping them off, my excitement was not dampened by a messy house.

For the last week or two, I have been fantacizing about the ease of life without the kids.  Think of meals...cooking only for two?? It seems like ages since I’ve done that. Laundry?? For only two people?  Why, that will barely add up.  No clutter.  Double wow!  When I get up in the morning, I will be in the house alone.  And I don’t have to drop anybody off at the babysitters when I go to work. I can just get up, get ready, and leave.  Weird!

I know a lot of Mother’s will not understand this, but as much as I love my kids, I never feel fully myself when I am with them.  The best way I can describe it is that children stress me out and I feel a low grade level of stress at ALL TIMES when I am with my children.  Judge me if you must. It is what it is.  Do I wish it was this way? No!  Have I tried and tried to become a better Mother and to roll with the flow?  Yes!  But, for me, there is something about being free of all of those obligations and just getting to HANG OUT by myself or with my man that is absolutely refreshing to my weary soul.

One of the first things I did was wash that back patio window.  You know the one?  That when I wash it, it stays clean and finger print free or approximately 2.8 seconds.  You know the one? That one that I really don’t clean very often because it is just.not.worth.it!  Even though it was raining and I already had my hair done for Bible study, I cleaned that baby.  The idea that it will stay nice and shiny and finger print free for 9 days and longer, it practically astounds me.  It made me happy to see it sparkling clean and knowing that it would still be that way tomorrow.

I set the table.  For two.  Two plates. Two forks. Two glasses full of water.

I felt a little pang go through me when I glanced at the three places where there would usually be other plates.  Funny, that.  They’ve barely been gone for an hour and already I am reminded of them and the space that they are not occupying right now.

But I push it aside, because I am excited and I am happy to be alone with my husband.  Good times are ahead!

I get ready for Bible study. In peace. No bickering. No fighting.  No questions or requests.

I put my lip gloss on and then go to grab a stick of gum.

I think of Nikki.  At least once or twice every day, she asks me if she can have gum.  She loves the stuff. And when I say “Yes” she almost always says, in such a sweet voice, “Thank you, Mommy”, as if each time she is so surprised that I would allow her that special treat.

I’m going to miss hearing that.  Maybe I do miss them a little. Already.

They’ve only been gone for less than 2 hours.

I feel this incredible need to write.  To journal my way through these 9 days.  Maybe it will disappear, I don’t know, but I want to embrace the emotions of this experience and not run from them, whatever they may be. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what I will feel. This is uncharted territory for me.

What if I miss them TERRIBLY after 3 days and just can think of nothing else? What if I really don’t miss them much at all and wish they would be gone for another month?

The unknowns of this experience are nagging at the back of my mind. I know, I know, I think WAY too much!  At least that is what Jeremy told me when I was trying to describe some of my emotions and thoughts to him.

To be continued...

I like to follow along with Gypsy Mama’s 5 minute Friday challenge to write about the subject she has chosen for the week.  You can only write for five minutes and you are not allowed to edit. Even though I am in the midst of my blogging break as I write this...I thought I would write and post it at a later date. (yeah, that was like 3 or 4 weeks ago, and I'm finally posting it. But I thought it was a good time, since I am in the midst of my 10 day "kidless" streak. By the way, I am writing about that too, and the emotions, thoughts and feelings that go with the change of having 3 kids in the house to have no kids in the house...maybe I'll post it sometime later)

The subject of the week -- “When Seasons Change...”

And...ready, set, GO --

If life is anything, it is about seasons.

We are young.  Then we are old.

We are single.  We are married.

We are child-less.  We have children.

Each season has its good and bad parts.  But, each season is meant to be enjoyed.

If you spend your childhood just longing to grow up and be older, you will miss the joy of that season.

If you spend those first years of married life doing nothing but longing for a child, you will miss out on the wonder and fun that is those early years of married life.

If you spend your years with small children just wishing for a time when they will be older, you miss their sweetness and cuddly-ness and the joys of being a new Mom.

I should know.

I have struggled with this a lot in my life.  I have been known to be discontent. To think that if this or that would change...THEN I would feel happier. More content.  Less restless.

The news is coming to me, slowly at first, but with increasing clarity.

The problem is NOT my circumstances.  The problem is me.  That restlessness, that discontentment, it has nothing to do with what is happening around me and everything to do with what is going on inside my heart.

I must learn to enjoy the season that I am in.  Right now, it is the season of having young children in my home.   There is so much joy to be found in this season.

The treasures that are given to me by small hands.  The questions and the way that my children trust what I say.  The hugs and the kisses...freely given.

There will be other seasons down the road.  And I want to enjoy those as well. I want to transition gracefully!

But if I miss out on this season...this time...it will never be recovered.

And that, my friends, would be a loss that I don’t want to experience.

STOP

The blogging world is full of details of the lives of others.

And we love it. Right?

Sometimes we live vicariously through the experiences of others.

Sometimes others inspire us.  Sometimes they make us feel hopeful.

Sometimes they share advice that stays with us for years.  Sometimes we get our curiousity satisfied...about how other people's lives work and what makes up their days.

I do NOT know where this idea came from, I am sure it was connected to some other random thought I had, but I thought it could be kind of interesting to take a picture of the mail that comes to us every day and tell you what I do with it.

Why did I think this would be interesting?  Because I am just into the details of other's lives enough that it would be interesting to ME to see what someone else got in their mailbox in a week's time.  I think you can learn something about someone else by "reading their mail", so here's a chance to peek into my little green, the-door-doesn't-close-right-anymore mailbox.

I remembered to take pictures of our mail five out of six days.  There was that one day I had to dig it out of the trash to take the picture, but I bet you can't even tell which one that is!

Monday's mail.  I am a person who goes through the mail RIGHT away. It does not stack up on our counter. I don't even have a spot for mail to be placed. It goes on the counter and within 10 minutes of walking in the door, it is usually dispersed to its proper resting place.  During the course of this week, I realized that most of it goes directly into the trash can...unopened.

Guess my curiousity does have its limits, huh? I wonder if all of those credit card and catalogue and other various companies would quit sending me so much crap if they knew that I didn't even open it??

Like this particular day...catalog from company who we buy our stretch wrap (for firewood bundles) from...don't need it, because I just order by phone, same things every time, or I can go online if I want to look up what they have available.  Some offers for something I don't need.  Trash.  Newsletter from Gospel for Asia. Should read it, but I know I won't, so it goes right into the trash can.  Sorry, Gospel for Asia. I know you are doing a wonderful work and we support it, but other times when I have left your magazines lying around in hopes of reading them, they ended up in the trash -- unread -- anyway.

Wednesday's mail.  (I keep thinking of that little ditty about the days of the week children are born on...Wednesday's child is full of woe...) or you could say, Wednesday's mail is full of junk.

Three of these pieces went directly into the trash can, two of them are bank statements (which I love to reconcile, btw) and the other piece of mail is a statement from our IRA's.  That just gets filed.

Thursday's mail.  The newspaper comes on Thursday. I rarely look at it.  Jeremy does though, plus it has the garage sales in it, so we keep on paying the $39 a year to receive it on a weekly basis. Even if we only read it 1/2 the time, I think that is still a bargain.  Three more pieces of junk and a box that, sad to say, was not one bit exciting. It was checks that I had ordered for a bookkeeping client.

Friday's mail. This appears to be the biggest mail day of the week! A few interesting pieces.  Six of these went straight into the trash can -- unopened -- and then there was our tickets to a race!! that I had been waiting for. That was kinda fun.  My "In Style" magazine, which I love to look at, but almost a week later have barely yet glanced at and is now residing in my magazine rack, waiting for me to pick it up when I have a little time, an envelope that looked promising since it had my name HANDWRITTEN on it (that always makes my heart skip a beat) but alas, also bookwork related.  Dang!  (Do you now feel sorry enough for me to send me some mail? I would TOTALLY love it!)

Saturday's mail...works hard for a living. (Oops...still stuck on that rhyme about which day of the week you are born)  Junk, junk, junk, then another bank statement and all of our weekly "flyers" and newpapers that come free.

If you were afraid that this post was going to be boring...I am here to tell you that your fears have been realized!

But at least now you know a little something more about my little life and what shows up in my mailbox every day.

My life is boring and mundane too. 

Don't you feel better now?

And just in case you now have your mind stuck on that little ditty I mentioned, here it is for you.

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

Guess which day I was born on? 

Tuesday. I knew you'd never guess.

So were ALL three of children.

Why there is so much fighting in our house is totally beyond me??

Grace, people. Grace!  You're full of it!

The other day I was baking some brownies, which, by the way, are a HUGE hit around here. I discovered them a little over a month ago and I think I have made 4 pans of them since then.  My kids, who, strangely enough, are not that big on baked items, LOVE these and ask for them. They are easy-peasy, SO yummy, and full of goodness. (Not really the ACTUALLY good goodness as in health-ful, but like yummy goodness.) I think I am going to bake another pan today, because we are out. (I will share the recipe at the end of the post, in case you'd like to try them.)

It has seemed that lately life has been so crazy busy.

Even though, for the most part, I enjoy what I am doing, I do not like when my life feels like it is flying by at a speed that I am barely capable of dealing with.

No down time eventually = a worn out, grumpy Mama and wife.

Not good for anyone.

I have barely been able to keep up with reading other's blogs, and that frustrates me.

I thought I would do a post to kind of catch you up to speed on what we have been doing (at least some of it) the last couple of weeks. In case you are interested!

If not, well, then I guess you can scroll on to the next blog.

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FIELD DAY:

Near the end of the school year, the kids always have a day where they pretty much have all day recess. They call it "Field Day" and they play games and run races and have teams and do competitions and generally have a great time. A lot of the parents and grandparents attend and visit and watch the kids play and have some lunch.

Jeremy was even able to make it this year, since he was working fairly close by the school. The boys were excited about that.

There was a blue team, a green team, and a yellow team. Both of our boys were on the "Green Team."

They even painted their fingernails a matching color.  Boys with painted fingernails?? Not sure what to think of that.

Our kiddos eating lunch.

Derrick and fellow students.

Crawling through the tube thing-y and then jumping into a sack to hop to the finish line.

Kendall shed his "outer" green shirt, so now I guess he is on the "White Team" all by himself!

Mr. M (School principal and both my boys' teacher in kindergarten - and Derrick in first grade) He's a wonderful teacher!

Mr. M...giving a little speech.

Getting ready for the all-famous tug-of-war.

Look at Kendall...he is INTO THIS! He's little...but he's mighty!  You should have heard me cheering and yelling for the green team!  And they won the whole thing too.  You think it was my crazy loud cheering and jumping and hollaring? I would like to think so.  Cuz otherwise, I just looked like a complete fool.

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FIELD TRIP

For the first time ever, I went along as a chaperone on a field trip. Now I know why I usually stay home!

Nikki went along too. It was WINDY in Duluth, where we went to the zoo and had a picnic lunch at their little playground area.

My boys and their friend Cole.

The group of kids that were with another Mom and I as we walked around the zoo. Do you know how exhausting it is to try to keep track of six darting children?  Very.

There was this beautiful old bridge and small waterfalls at the zoo. I wished that I could have just hung out here for a while...in solitude. But instead I tried to insure that young children did not kill themselves by falling into the rocks below.

Derrick's teacher, Mrs. Nedlund, who he loved and who I thought was wonderful as well, and some of his classmates, etc.

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KINDERGARTEN GRADUATION

Can someone answer this question for me? Why is there kindergarten and sometimes preschool graduation, but then no 1st grade graduation? No third grade graduation?  No sixth grade graduation? No 8th grade graduation?

Nevertheless, turns out that I am not in charge of these decisions, and if I don't show up for my son's kindergarten graduation, I understand that he will be scarred for life.

So I took off from work early to make this little guy happy and to see that sparkle in his eye.

He's even got a diploma.  See?

He spent quite a bit of time hiding behind his diploma and making faces, etc. while I tried to discreetly take his picture.

Aren't they all so cute with their little graduation caps?

Mr. M., their proud teacher.

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CAMPING

Our first camping expedition of 2011 took place the weekend right after school ended for the year. I picked the boys up at school around 1 (early release) and by 4:30 or so we were on the road, headed out with the camper and driving towards Mellen, WI.

We chose this spot because our family has never been to Copper Falls and we thought it would be fun to see that area and hike the falls.

It was absolutely beautiful!

At times like these I wish for a decent camera and photography skills.

I have neither, so what you see is what you get.

Jeremy kept on wanting to climb over the fences and down into treacherous places that made my heart leap into my throat and left me feeling like there was a very real possibility of not making it back to the vehicle with our whole family intact.

I tried to keep my inner "freak-out Mama" at bay, but of course there were children who were eager to follow their Dad into harm's way.

My man and I.

Derrick wanted me to take this picture of him.

We stopped at the river underneath this bridge and played and looked for rocks and sat around for quite a while.

Of course, we hadn't brought our children swimming clothes, so despite warnings of "Don't get all wet" they did get all wet.  As any Mother would have figured they would.  But we warn non-the-less.

More pictures of the falls. The hiking trail was 1.7 miles long and there were three separate falls that we saw during the hike. The weather was absolutely GORGEOUS!!

Kendall was "hanging out" here, waiting for us to come back up from hiking down to look at one of the falls.

The place we camped was right on a lake.  The kids had such fun swimming and splashing in the shallow lake, we sat on the docks and got some sun, and there were also LOTS of misquitoes. I spent most of the weekend covered in and smelling like "OFF".

The "3 Stooges"

A view across the lake. It was beautiful!

Me...and some kids who wanted me to take pictures with them.

My H-O-T husband.

Aren't they just little angels?

We played a LOT of cornhole toss over the course of the weekend. We even had some tournaments, with all of us joining in except for Nikki.  Derrick is getting better and better and even beat Jeremy a few different times. I pretty much suck at it, but I'm OK with that. If I don't do well in the tournaments, there is just more time for me to read!

It strikes me that I have a picture almost IDENTICAL to this one from camping last year. Same food, same man, same shirt that he's wearing, same "thumbs up."  Maybe I need to change something up a bit?

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend of yummy food, hanging out with my family, relaxing, playing together and a lot of fun!

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40th ANNIVERSARY PARTY

We drove back from camping and went directly to my sister Debbie's house for my parents 40th anniversary party.

She had this really pretty table set up out in the woods, decorated and all.

I can hardly believe she's my sister...oh the talents she has. (At least compared to me.)

She had the guys hang up these Japenese lantern things over top of the tables and it looked quite pretty and "wedding-ish."

Especially in our "day and age", having parents who are married for 40 years is a blessing that I do not want to take for granted.

Debbie...the one who pulled the whole party together. She makes it look so easy.

All of the girl grandchildren. Together in the wagon.

My Dad and Jeremy...two of the "non game players" in the family

And here are some of the "game players" who are doing their best at cornhole toss.

A game of croquet was also in progress.

My parents.

Some pictures from around the table.

The cake and the anniversary couple.

Taking pictures of people taking pictures. These are three of my siblings. There are 5 of us total.

Opening the gift. 

It was a scrapbook that we had put together with pages from family and friends, including old friends from PA, friends from my parents ministry work in the cities, etc. They absolutely loved it and were very touched by the gift even though my Mom had always said to "never have people do a scrapbook for her."

Here there are looking through the scrap book while others hang around to see it too.  The thing I really noticed when reading through the book and reading people's memories of my parents, is how they (my Dad more than my Mom longer ago) have always been involved in missions and reaching out to hurting people and to people that a lot of times get ignored. I so appreciate this legacy from my parents and I want to carry that on in my own life.

The obligatory family picture. 

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OK...if you made it through all of that, kudos to you.

That should catch you up on at least part of what I have been up to.

Besides getting our pool cleaned and filled and ready to swim, doing bookwork, delivering firewood, hanging out with friends at the beach, trying to slow down enough to really enjoy these fleeting days I have at home with the kids before they all leave for Ohio in less than week (to visit their grandparents). I am excited about that and also kind of wondering how I will do and if the house will be SO quiet that I will feel quite lonely.

Happy Thursday to you!

My name is Audrey.

With an “e.”

My name is important to me.

It means “noble strength.”

It is what my parents named me instead of “Viriginia”, which they were also considering.

For years, I thought it would be way cooler to be “Ginny” than “Audrey.”

Those years could still be in process right now, for that matter.

My name...

It is what people call when they want to get my attention.

It is what I sometimes think I hear in a crowd.

Nothing else grabs your attention like someone saying your name.

Or seeing it in writing.  

But then, sometimes people misspell it.

For me, that usually means leaving out the “e”.

So instead of “Audrey”, I am “Audry”.

It happens all the time.

And I notice it every.single.time.

It just doesn’t look right.

It offends me, slightly.   Do they now know me well enough to know the proper spelling of my name?

Sometimes other people misspell our names in less obvious, less visual and concrete ways.

When we are trying to show empathy, they name us “nosy.”

When we attempt to be consoling, they name us “you just pity me.”

When we try to bring life to a situation through laughter, they label us “calloused and uncaring.”

When we stand for what we believe, without apology, they name us “rigid.”

If we don’t want to talk about it, they name us “close minded.”

When we snap at our children, they label us “impatient.”

When you are fighting with all your might, someone looking on might name you “passive.”

In the midst of your own private pain, you are labeled “aloof.”

When you are too shy to make new friends, they will be quick to label you “snobby.”

And we do the same thing to others.

Knowingly and unknowingly.

Slapping on labels left and right.  

We all do it.

And it hurts.  It stings.

When you feel like people are spelling your name wrong, whether figuratively or literally, it causes pain.

But God...

But God...

Who is RICH in mercy...

He never spells our name wrong.

He never gives us a false label.

He knows our heart.

If we are a child of His, the list of correctly spelled and pronounced names He has for us is amazingly awesome.

Your name is “beautiful.”

Your name is “never alone.”

Your name is “valued.”

Your name is “precious.”

He calls you “conqueror” and “princess” and “holy” and “blameless”.

He calls you “Grace” and “Light” and “Fullness” and “Joy”.

Your name is “good”.

Your name is “alive”.

Your name is “redeemed”.


Whose labels are you going to choose to believe?

It IS a choice, you know!

A Xanga reader wrote this to me in a message:  

I don't think I can write up a guest post on this topic, not having totally been there myself, but I would love to know from others...

Do you miss being conservative? If so, what aspects? If no, why not?

Yes, I am the person who blogged about finding a new church, and yes, we are looking, still. I really have no bias or hidden agenda in asking that question. I never have been ultra conservative, and we as a family have no concrete idea which way we'll go as far as churches are concerned. But as I visit different churches and pray over our future, I wonder about the answer to this question.

My two cents:

I have some thoughts of my own, but I am not exactly sure how to share them without being offensive.

I guess I will just say this:  I was at one time conservative Mennonite and am not anymore.  It was a choice Jeremy and I made about 4 years ago and I have not regretted it, although I realize that the whole story of our lives and our children's lives has not yet been told.

I have a lot of respect for some of the people that I went to church with growing up. Others, not so much.  Bottom line for me is this:  It is not about whether we are "conservative" or "liberal"...these are just labels that other people like to slap on us.  It is about having a heart after God.  It is about total surrender to Him. It is about a hunger for God. It is about understanding God's love and passing that on to other people around us. It is about grace. It is about a relationship that is REAL.

I think that you can have those things no matter where you are as far as church or where you are on the "conservative vs. liberal" spectrum.  I do understand wanting to go to a church that supports your beliefs and the way you feel the Bible is to be interpretted. 

For me...people look at me (on the outside) and judge where I am with God because I don't dress a certain way anymore.

But I KNOW the work that God has done in my heart and the relationship I have with God now that I didn't before.  I have a confidence in where I stand with God and I really don't care that much if others feel the need to judge me for the way I look.  I feel like I was a person who needed to get away from all of the external emphasis and the rules to be able to really pursue a real relationship with God apart from my performance. But that's just my story. I tend to be a very legalistic person and I had virtually no understanding of God's love and grace prior to about 5 years ago.

What do the rest of you have to say about this "guest question?" I would LOVE to hear from  you!

You know how it is...

You are sleeping soundly and suddenly you become aware that there is a little person standing by your bed.

You have no idea how long they have been calling “Mommy” but you realize that they are asking if they can crawl into bed with you.

Since we have a “no being in bed with Mom and Dad” rule at our house, I say “No, Nikki.  You need to go back to bed.”

And then I ask “Do you need to use the bathroom?” (Since that is often what makes her wake up.)

She says “Yes” and heads towards the bathroom.

But then she says “Can you fix my sheets?”

Oh, ok. So this isn’t going to be one of those times where I can just stay in my cozy bed and she tucks herself back in.

Her “sheets” have to be just right...and she doesn’t want to do it herself.

I know that if I tell her “No, just go back to bed” she will throw a mid-night temper tantrum and it is a battle I am not up for right now.

I sleepily roll out of bed and go to her room.  I fix her sheets and when she comes back into the room, I am waiting with her big, pink blanket and I cover her up and snuggle her back into bed. I lean down to kiss her forehead and whisper “Ok, Nikki.  Sleep good.”

And then she’s got one.more.request. The one that, in the middle of the night, usually just pisses me off. In my mind, I’m already back under the covers...its just a few seconds away.

But her voice comes through the darkness “Mommy?  Can you please get me a drink?”

Sure. Whatever.

I’ve got nothing better to be doing at this time of the night than answering your beck and call.

In case you were wondering, I am not necessarily the most cheerful person when woken up in the middle of a deep sleep.

If you are...then kudos to you. And may I say, you’re just weird!    But in a good way.

In my head, I am SO annoyed. I am thinking things like “*%#@&” I just want to get back to bed.

But as I turn and walk towards the kitchen, her sippy cup in my hand, I hear a voice in my head. Not audible, but it may as well be.

He whispers “Do it for ME.”

I feel myself relax.  I feel the annoyance leave.  I almost smile to myself.

Thank you, Lord, for that reminder.

“Do it for ME.”

He speaks into my heart, "I have done SO much for you.  Can you not put aside your petty selfishness for a minute and picture my body on the cross, my arms spread wide in love for you, the blackest of sinners, and be a servant to “one of these little ones?”

Because isn’t that what it is all about?  This life we are living.  To serve and love Because He did SO much for us.

But so often I forget that.  

In the semi-darkness of the kitchen, the verse comes to my mind “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto Me.”

Could a three year old, demanding at mid-night little girl be one of the “least of these?”  I think so.

I am doing it for Him!!

I have the unsurpassable privilege, on a DAILY basis, to be His hands and feet to those around me. To share His love and to serve in a tangible way.

It is a Gift!  

But how often do I look at it like that?  How often do I totally pass by the gift of servanthood and just feel annoyance?

God gave me the gift of a soft reminder in the darkness of a Tuesday night.

And I want to remember that.

Every.single.day.

People say a lot of things that are meant to make other people feel better.

And most of the time it does.

But it can also be really insensitive...whether intentionally or not.  Sometimes those thoughtless phrases that we throw around can slice like a knife through the soul of an  unsuspecting listener. And all of a sudden, she’s right back there, in that moment, where the biggest regret of her life happened, and the conversation continues on, but she sits there...stunned and wounded...again!

I’m sure you’ve heard this one place or another, whether in reading you’ve done or conversations you’ve had.

Moms are talking among themselves and discussing mothering issues and problems and struggles and somebody says “Well, our main job is to keep our kids alive till they’re 18. If you’ve done that, then you’re doing pretty good.”

And the Moms heave a collective sigh of relief and say “Yeah, you’re right. That’s the main thing.” And yay for me! I’ve done that!

As if we alone have the potential to protect our child from every possible danger.

What if you are a Mom who DIDN’T “keep” your child alive?

What if they fell out of the bed of a pick up when you were hauling firewood and got run over and died, as happened to my cousin’s 8 year old son?

What if you had a miscarriage and you’ve always blamed yourself because you shouldn’t have lifted that heavy piece of furniture or you should have eaten differently or taken those folic acid vitamins?

What if you yourself buried your child alive when you were backfilling dirt at your new house, as happened with someone in our community?

What if, God forbid, despite all of your best efforts, your 20 year old child committed suicide, as happened to some dear parents in our community a few weeks ago?

What if your child died, silently, in their crib when they were a few months old, as has happened to countless mothers of babies who died of SIDS?

Could you ever forgive yourself? Could you go on?

We can live our whole lives in fear or what could or might happen to our precious children.

But bottom line...we are not able to protect them from everything.

We can turn our children into fearful people and we can control them to the point of inhibiting their spirit of learning and adventure and independence...all because of our own fears.

It is terrifying to think that something awful should happen to your child.

I certainly understand a mother’s desire to protect her children from death or anything bad that could happen to them.

But we are not all powerful. We are not able to protect as we would desire.

We HAVE to learn to let go and trust and give them breathing space.

I don’t pretend to understand the awful, terrible pain that would be losing a child.

The way that it must take your breath away for what feels like forever and shred your heart to bits in such a way that you will never go back to being fully alive and fully yourself as you once were. (Even writing about this subject makes me feel like I am treading where angels fear to tread, because I do not EVER want to bring pain to a reader of my blog, if I can help it.)

Yes, I want to be wise and I want to be careful with my children but I refuse to live a life of fear. I refuse to make decisions based out of fear.  Wisdom, yes, but fear, no!  Do those two look the same sometimes? Definitely.  But the motivation makes all of the difference.

So just think a little more next time you say something glibly like “Well, as long as we manage to keep them alive, we’re doing good.”

Those words can cut like a double edged sword through some grieving Mother’s soul.

We’re all human.  We’re fallible. We make mistakes.  We might not see the danger. We might see it but not get there quickly enough.

We cannot live our lives taking the weight of the world on our shoulders and think that we can single handedly protect our children.  Its not possible.

We do our best, yes, but things happen.  Choices are made.  Accidents occur.  Diseases ravage.

And that doesn’t make someone any less of a loving and caring and protective mother.

It just makes her a mother who has a deep scar that will never, ever (completely) heal!