I just finished reading a blog post by Matthew Paul Turner (Jesus Needs New PR) about the verdict in the Casey Anthony case. He asks why we are more passionate about justice being served in this case than about the death of other children around the world, or even in our own country.
I also read a piece today in which Rush Limbaugh said if Caylee had been killed in the womb (i.e. aborted), the media wouldn't care. According to Limbaugh, "If the child had died, what, two years earlier in the womb this woman would be a star. She'd be a hero." (full post here)
In addition, I've seen the outrage on Facebook and Twitter and heard the comments on call-in radio shows.
Two things really bother me about this whole thing. One, I know everyone is convinced Casey murdered her daughter. And maybe she did. But what if she didn't? I mean, not a single one of us knows for sure. You may think you know, but you don't. The only ones who know for sure are Casey, Caylee, and God.
But the thing that bothers me the most is the lack of mercy and love shown by Christians. Yes, we are called to defend the defenseless, but we are also called to be a light in the darkness to those who are lost. Casey Anthony is one very lost young woman. Casey needs people to get on their knees and pray for her. Casey needs Jesus.
I'm asking everyone who reads this post to speak to God on behalf of Casey. "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful." (Luke 6:36)
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Friday, July 01, 2011
Sometimes I hate being the mom
Disclaimer: This post was written very late at night by a tired mommy whose daughter decided to go out.
Sometimes I hate being the mom.
Oh…sorry…is that not cool to say? That's right, I'm supposed to say, "Being a mom is the greatest thing that ever happened to me." Or, "Motherhood has fulfilled the deepest yearnings of my soul."
While those statements may be true, and motherhood is indeed rewarding, I still have moments when I hate being the mom. I hate being the one who manages the details of everyone's schedules. I hate being the one who makes sure kids get their homework and/or chores done (i.e. the nag).
I've seen two children through the teen years, and I hate being the one who sacrifices sleep to make sure the cherub arrives home safely among icy roads, thunderstorms, inexperienced drivers and drunk ones. Only to have said cherub look at me like I'm a freak of nature for ever having a concerned moment.
My children will tell you I worry too much. It's not their fault. They don't get it. They will never understand until they have children of their own. Even then, it's likely only the girls will get it. As I told a friend yesterday, the worry sector in women's brains triples in size the minute they give birth. I used to question God's wisdom in designing us that way, but I've come to realize, it's just another way He draws us to Himself. We have to learn to trust. We watch our babies go out the door and release them into His care, knowing (but not comprehending) that He loves them even more than we do.
The tables have turned for my own mother. The kids now worry about her. This gives me an idea. When I'm a senior citizen, I think I will stay out till all hours, not return phone calls or texts, and fail to clean my room. That's only fair, right?
P.S. The author was able to go to sleep after much prayer. She got up the next morning, confirmed that her daughter was safely home, and thanked the Lord for another day of being the mom.
Sometimes I hate being the mom.
Oh…sorry…is that not cool to say? That's right, I'm supposed to say, "Being a mom is the greatest thing that ever happened to me." Or, "Motherhood has fulfilled the deepest yearnings of my soul."
While those statements may be true, and motherhood is indeed rewarding, I still have moments when I hate being the mom. I hate being the one who manages the details of everyone's schedules. I hate being the one who makes sure kids get their homework and/or chores done (i.e. the nag).
I've seen two children through the teen years, and I hate being the one who sacrifices sleep to make sure the cherub arrives home safely among icy roads, thunderstorms, inexperienced drivers and drunk ones. Only to have said cherub look at me like I'm a freak of nature for ever having a concerned moment.
My children will tell you I worry too much. It's not their fault. They don't get it. They will never understand until they have children of their own. Even then, it's likely only the girls will get it. As I told a friend yesterday, the worry sector in women's brains triples in size the minute they give birth. I used to question God's wisdom in designing us that way, but I've come to realize, it's just another way He draws us to Himself. We have to learn to trust. We watch our babies go out the door and release them into His care, knowing (but not comprehending) that He loves them even more than we do.
The tables have turned for my own mother. The kids now worry about her. This gives me an idea. When I'm a senior citizen, I think I will stay out till all hours, not return phone calls or texts, and fail to clean my room. That's only fair, right?
P.S. The author was able to go to sleep after much prayer. She got up the next morning, confirmed that her daughter was safely home, and thanked the Lord for another day of being the mom.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Will I actually read a whole book this summer?
I have a whole stack of books I have not yet read. Most of these were either given to me by friends or family, and the rest I purchased based on the recommendation of someone I respect. I have another stack of books that I started to read but eventually found boring. That stack was originally in the first stack.
Then I have a mental stack of books, i.e. a list. These are books I am really interested to read, yet, I can't bring myself to purchase them because I have all these unfinished books. I feel guilty for not reading or finishing all these other books.
I'm guessing this has a lot to do with my obsessive compulsiveness and deep desire for structure and control. But I think I'm going to have to let this go, or I'll end up reading nothing before the summer is over.
Does anyone else have this issue? And would anyone like a stack of free books? :)
Then I have a mental stack of books, i.e. a list. These are books I am really interested to read, yet, I can't bring myself to purchase them because I have all these unfinished books. I feel guilty for not reading or finishing all these other books.
I'm guessing this has a lot to do with my obsessive compulsiveness and deep desire for structure and control. But I think I'm going to have to let this go, or I'll end up reading nothing before the summer is over.
Does anyone else have this issue? And would anyone like a stack of free books? :)
Saturday, June 18, 2011
10 Things I Learned From My Dad
When my father passed away four years ago, a lot was said about the legacy he left. Most of it revolved around the hundreds of lives he impacted spiritually through the years. Yet, the lives he most affected were those of his children, though not strictly in spiritual matters.
Even though there were many times when my father and I did not see eye to eye, much of the wisdom he passed on to me has resulted in great blessings in my life...at least, when I chose to listen to it.
Here are a few important things I learned from my dad:
1. Laugh, even (and maybe most importantly) at yourself. My dad LOVED to tell jokes. They were usually the corniest jokes you ever heard, and if you lived at our house, you had probably heard them a hundred times. Yet, every time he would tell a joke, he would laugh even harder than the person he told it to, like Dad himself was hearing it for the first time. I guess he figured if the joke wasn't all that funny, he might be. To this day, I can still hear my dad's laugh in my head. And my kids would probably tell you I inherited his same sense of warped humor.
9. Use your gifts. If you needed something fixed - anything - you called Dad. He just had a knack for figuring out the way things worked. This opened the door for him to build relationships with a lot of people, and to make a difference in their lives. It took me a long time to recognize my God-given gifts, but now that I do, I'm working to instill this in my daily living.
Even though there were many times when my father and I did not see eye to eye, much of the wisdom he passed on to me has resulted in great blessings in my life...at least, when I chose to listen to it.
Here are a few important things I learned from my dad:
1. Laugh, even (and maybe most importantly) at yourself. My dad LOVED to tell jokes. They were usually the corniest jokes you ever heard, and if you lived at our house, you had probably heard them a hundred times. Yet, every time he would tell a joke, he would laugh even harder than the person he told it to, like Dad himself was hearing it for the first time. I guess he figured if the joke wasn't all that funny, he might be. To this day, I can still hear my dad's laugh in my head. And my kids would probably tell you I inherited his same sense of warped humor.
2. Pinch pennies. My father was probably the most frugal person I've ever known. When I left college to work for Dad in his newly acquired radio station, the two of us shared an apartment until Mom was able to make the move. I quickly discovered Dad's grocery shopping consisted of buying everything generic. Generic macaroni and cheese, vegetables, and tuna. Although, I appreciated his desire to save money, I finally drew the line at generic toilet paper! Later in life, as a single parent trying to make ends meet, I understood how important it is to know how to save money, especially when you worked so hard for it.
3. The importance of family. Even though his job required him to work long hours, when Dad was at home, he tried to be as engaged as possible. He played games with us and tried to coach my brothers in their sports. We took a family vacation every summer, and our other vacation time was spent with extended family. He always maintained close relationships with his own siblings as well. I always felt I was part of a family that loved and cared for one another.
4. Take risks. I know my mother might read this and disagree that this one was a good thing. Dad always seemed to have an idea for a new business or venture, and he could have been accused of being a bit impulsive about pursuing those plans. Unfortunately, most of his ideas ended up being less than lucrative. Still, I learned how important it is to run after your dreams, trusting God to provide for all your needs. And hopefully, I learned from his mistakes. Okay, Mom?
5. Read my Bible. As I mentioned before, Dad was a hard worker. Many nights, he came home from work exhausted. He would park himself in his recliner, and you could bet there would be one of two things in his hand: either a crossword puzzle, or his Bible. Although he might fall asleep reading either one, he modeled for me how important it is to spend time in God's Word each day. The older I get, the more I realize the spiritual power in reading this supernatural book, and I need that!
6. Help others. Dad was also a great role model of "helping his neighbor." Whether it was a neighbor or stranger, Dad had no problem reaching out to someone in need. Once, during a raging blizzard, he rescued two college students from their stranded car, and brought them to our house. They ended up spending a couple of days snowed in with us. It was not unusual for Dad to bring home a stranger for dinner, or to leave the house to help someone who needed a hand.
7. Share your faith. Billy Graham had nothing on my father. Ok, well, he did have a much larger ministry, but Dad was a bold evangelist. He had no problem speaking of Jesus to anyone and everyone he knew. He also had a natural comfort in talking to people. I have a long way to go in this area, and I'm not as outgoing as Dad was, but I hope to follow more of his example in this area of my life.
8. Work hard. Have I mentioned that my father was a hard worker? Both he and my mother were tireless, or at least they seemed to be. They never sat down until the work was done. That ethic has been ingrained in me since I was a small child, and I'm glad. I wasn't so glad back then, but I'm thankful now.
9. Use your gifts. If you needed something fixed - anything - you called Dad. He just had a knack for figuring out the way things worked. This opened the door for him to build relationships with a lot of people, and to make a difference in their lives. It took me a long time to recognize my God-given gifts, but now that I do, I'm working to instill this in my daily living.
10. Have a positive outlook. My dad definitely had "the glass is half full" outlook. I think it's because he always saw things through the lens of eternity. He knew it would all get worked out in the end. I am incredibly thankful to have been raised with that attitude, and I want to leave that legacy of hope and joy to my children.
Thanks, Dad, for all you taught me. Enjoy Fathers' Day, celebrating with our Heavenly Father!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Things I learned today
Do you desire knowledge? Are you thirsting for parental wisdom? My advice is to take a 300 mile road trip with two 14-year-olds, especially if one of them is your daughter. Here are just a few of the things I learned today:
- You don't "become a fan" of something on Facebook anymore. You "like" it.
- Science exhibits about the human body are gross.
- Fire is cool. So are shiny things.
- Even people from Wisconsin can get sick of cheese. Some people, not all.
- There's always room for dessert.
- Girls, no matter what the age, still love to color.
- I should never use a GPS. I always end up getting lost and finding the way on my own.
Tomorrow I will likely learn that I am corny and boring for posting this blog. I'll take my chances.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
My heart is in Joplin
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18
One week ago today, our family was gathered in our basement as the tornado sirens wailed outside. We watched the local coverage of the storm and prayed as a tornado ravaged a section of La Crosse, ten miles to the south of us. Tornadoes are a bit of an anomaly in the city of La Crosse, and we were shocked to hear accounts and see pictures of the damage in the hours to follow.
I also spent time searching for information on the tornado that ripped through parts of North Minneapolis and surrounding suburbs, since my sister lives in that area. I was unable to reach her by phone, and it was difficult to think about the possible outcomes, especially since she lives in a mobile home. (I was finally able to contact her on Monday, and she is fine.)
After these close calls, nothing could have prepared me for the images I saw on Monday morning coming out of Joplin, Missouri. I had turned on the TV to find out more about the local damage, and instead I was subjected to a visual that might never leave my mind.
You see, I'm a bit of a tornado freak. I'm always fascinated by the stories of tornadoes and the crazy, weird things they do. I suppose it's due to my own personal experiences with these powerful, unpredictable storms. I've lived through a few of them, including one in a car and another laying in a ditch at an amusement park. Over the years, I've look at countless pictures and videos of the destruction left behind by twisters.
Joplin was different.
I watched the news coverage of Katrina, Haiti, Japan, and Tuscaloosa. Although all of those tragedies brought out compassion in me, none of them moved me the way the devastation in Joplin did. I became physically ill at the sight of St. John's Hospital, cars twisted like soda cans, and trees stripped of bark. I wept as people were interviewed, still clearly shell shocked and unable to comprehend a fraction of what had happened to their community in a matter of minutes.
Later that morning, at a doctor appointment, I met a nurse whose hometown was Joplin. She was in tears as she told me about being reassured her family was all right, but not knowing about some dear friends. The images on the news were so frightening, and she couldn't even recognize parts of the city because all the landmarks were gone.
Yesterday, a friend called to give me an update from her husband who drove to Joplin to volunteer with the cleanup. Having been to Haiti after the earthquake, he described Joplin as "Haiti on steroids."
It's a week later, and my heart is still breaking for the people of Joplin. I really have no idea why this particular disaster has affected me so deeply. I don't know anyone in Joplin, and I have never even been there. I can only assume it's a move of God upon my heart, and that He intends to use me in some fashion.
I'm doing what I can for them right now...praying, organizing and collecting needed donations, and praying some more. I believe God is calling me to go there at some point and use my gifts to minister to the brokenhearted and grief-stricken. For now, my body may be in Wisconsin, but my heart is in Joplin, Missouri.
One week ago today, our family was gathered in our basement as the tornado sirens wailed outside. We watched the local coverage of the storm and prayed as a tornado ravaged a section of La Crosse, ten miles to the south of us. Tornadoes are a bit of an anomaly in the city of La Crosse, and we were shocked to hear accounts and see pictures of the damage in the hours to follow.
I also spent time searching for information on the tornado that ripped through parts of North Minneapolis and surrounding suburbs, since my sister lives in that area. I was unable to reach her by phone, and it was difficult to think about the possible outcomes, especially since she lives in a mobile home. (I was finally able to contact her on Monday, and she is fine.)
After these close calls, nothing could have prepared me for the images I saw on Monday morning coming out of Joplin, Missouri. I had turned on the TV to find out more about the local damage, and instead I was subjected to a visual that might never leave my mind.
You see, I'm a bit of a tornado freak. I'm always fascinated by the stories of tornadoes and the crazy, weird things they do. I suppose it's due to my own personal experiences with these powerful, unpredictable storms. I've lived through a few of them, including one in a car and another laying in a ditch at an amusement park. Over the years, I've look at countless pictures and videos of the destruction left behind by twisters.
Joplin was different.
I watched the news coverage of Katrina, Haiti, Japan, and Tuscaloosa. Although all of those tragedies brought out compassion in me, none of them moved me the way the devastation in Joplin did. I became physically ill at the sight of St. John's Hospital, cars twisted like soda cans, and trees stripped of bark. I wept as people were interviewed, still clearly shell shocked and unable to comprehend a fraction of what had happened to their community in a matter of minutes.
Later that morning, at a doctor appointment, I met a nurse whose hometown was Joplin. She was in tears as she told me about being reassured her family was all right, but not knowing about some dear friends. The images on the news were so frightening, and she couldn't even recognize parts of the city because all the landmarks were gone.
Yesterday, a friend called to give me an update from her husband who drove to Joplin to volunteer with the cleanup. Having been to Haiti after the earthquake, he described Joplin as "Haiti on steroids."
It's a week later, and my heart is still breaking for the people of Joplin. I really have no idea why this particular disaster has affected me so deeply. I don't know anyone in Joplin, and I have never even been there. I can only assume it's a move of God upon my heart, and that He intends to use me in some fashion.
I'm doing what I can for them right now...praying, organizing and collecting needed donations, and praying some more. I believe God is calling me to go there at some point and use my gifts to minister to the brokenhearted and grief-stricken. For now, my body may be in Wisconsin, but my heart is in Joplin, Missouri.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Just do it
"The Lord protects those of childlike faith; I was facing death, and he saved me." Psalm 116:6 (NLT)
Something happens to us as we get older. We have experiences or are affected by the experiences of people in our lives. Innocence gives way to fear, courage gives in to caution, and trust erodes into paranoia.
A few months ago, I met a young man who was a fairly new Christian. His passion for God is contagious, and because he is young (both in the faith and in life), he bulldozes through obstacles with a secure faith that God will take care of everything. Unfortunately, this has gotten him into some trouble along the way, but I've also seen the impact he is having on people's lives. It reminds me a little of Someone who walked the earth just over 2000 years ago.
There have been waves of similar spiritedness in my own spiritual journey. About 15 years ago, I was thrust into the world of youth ministry, though not by choice. There was no one else willing or able to teach those rowdy hooligans in our church, so my husband and I volunteered. Dan quickly discovered ministering to teenagers was not his niche - he's much more inclined to love on the little ones - so I was left to lead on my own. God gave me great compassion and understanding for adolescents, and I was convinced my little pack of monsters was going to change the world.
So, I went to bat for them. Not having a clue what I was doing, but praying through everything and trusting God's leading, I became singularly focused on doing the job well. I dragged those kids to every event within a 300 mile radius, in my own minivan, often being the only adult. Dan and I even took them to a music festival several hours away, camping in 100 degree heat and enduring a severe thunderstorm one night. We had no worship band, so we worshipped to CD's. We had no curriculum, so I wrote every week's lesson. We had very little money; often the costs came out of our family's personal budget. Some of these kids were dealing with serious issues - issues I knew nothing about - so I scoured the internet for information and support.
God was at work. He was doing His thing in these kids' lives, and I felt like I was just along for the ride. I can't remember ever thinking that anything we attempted wouldn't work, even though sometimes things didn't quite turn out as planned. All I knew was that God loved these kids, and He gave me the grace to love them too.
A few years into it, I read a well-known book which explained the best way to do youth ministry. It was widely hailed in youth ministry circles as brilliant and Biblical. According to the book, everything I had done up to that point was WRONG. In fact, some of the things we did were completely dangerous. Well, I can look back now and see that, but guess what? No one died. No one was ever seriously injured. God didn't allow it, for whatever reason. Those are His reasons. The thing is, we just blazed forward and trusted Him with all of it.
Now, don't get me wrong...I'm not suggesting we should be reckless or unnecessarily put kids in harms way. The things I did were done in ignorance, and fortunately God protected us. (Thank you, Jesus, that no one ever choked to death playing Chubby Bunny, with both marshmallows and atomic fireballs!)
I'm simply realizing that I need to stop questioning so much when God calls me to do something. Oswald Chambers said, "Jesus says that if we obey the life God has given us, He will look after all the other things. Has Jesus Christ told us a lie? If we are not experiencing the "much more," it is because we are not obeying the life God has given us, we are taken up with confusing considerations. How much time have we taken up worrying God with questions when we should have been absolutely free to concentrate on His work? Consecration means the continual separating of myself to one particular thing."
This week, God has laid a heavy burden on my heart for the people of Joplin, Missouri. He is directing me in ways to help, and yet every step of the way, I can hear those "confusing considerations" in the back of my head. I think we all know the source of those, and I'm in a battle to knock them out of my brain.
Chances are, you're hearing from God, too. You know it in the depths of your heart. He's giving you work to do. Don't dismiss it away with excuses and fears. Just do it.
Something happens to us as we get older. We have experiences or are affected by the experiences of people in our lives. Innocence gives way to fear, courage gives in to caution, and trust erodes into paranoia.
A few months ago, I met a young man who was a fairly new Christian. His passion for God is contagious, and because he is young (both in the faith and in life), he bulldozes through obstacles with a secure faith that God will take care of everything. Unfortunately, this has gotten him into some trouble along the way, but I've also seen the impact he is having on people's lives. It reminds me a little of Someone who walked the earth just over 2000 years ago.
There have been waves of similar spiritedness in my own spiritual journey. About 15 years ago, I was thrust into the world of youth ministry, though not by choice. There was no one else willing or able to teach those rowdy hooligans in our church, so my husband and I volunteered. Dan quickly discovered ministering to teenagers was not his niche - he's much more inclined to love on the little ones - so I was left to lead on my own. God gave me great compassion and understanding for adolescents, and I was convinced my little pack of monsters was going to change the world.
So, I went to bat for them. Not having a clue what I was doing, but praying through everything and trusting God's leading, I became singularly focused on doing the job well. I dragged those kids to every event within a 300 mile radius, in my own minivan, often being the only adult. Dan and I even took them to a music festival several hours away, camping in 100 degree heat and enduring a severe thunderstorm one night. We had no worship band, so we worshipped to CD's. We had no curriculum, so I wrote every week's lesson. We had very little money; often the costs came out of our family's personal budget. Some of these kids were dealing with serious issues - issues I knew nothing about - so I scoured the internet for information and support.
God was at work. He was doing His thing in these kids' lives, and I felt like I was just along for the ride. I can't remember ever thinking that anything we attempted wouldn't work, even though sometimes things didn't quite turn out as planned. All I knew was that God loved these kids, and He gave me the grace to love them too.
A few years into it, I read a well-known book which explained the best way to do youth ministry. It was widely hailed in youth ministry circles as brilliant and Biblical. According to the book, everything I had done up to that point was WRONG. In fact, some of the things we did were completely dangerous. Well, I can look back now and see that, but guess what? No one died. No one was ever seriously injured. God didn't allow it, for whatever reason. Those are His reasons. The thing is, we just blazed forward and trusted Him with all of it.
Now, don't get me wrong...I'm not suggesting we should be reckless or unnecessarily put kids in harms way. The things I did were done in ignorance, and fortunately God protected us. (Thank you, Jesus, that no one ever choked to death playing Chubby Bunny, with both marshmallows and atomic fireballs!)
I'm simply realizing that I need to stop questioning so much when God calls me to do something. Oswald Chambers said, "Jesus says that if we obey the life God has given us, He will look after all the other things. Has Jesus Christ told us a lie? If we are not experiencing the "much more," it is because we are not obeying the life God has given us, we are taken up with confusing considerations. How much time have we taken up worrying God with questions when we should have been absolutely free to concentrate on His work? Consecration means the continual separating of myself to one particular thing."
This week, God has laid a heavy burden on my heart for the people of Joplin, Missouri. He is directing me in ways to help, and yet every step of the way, I can hear those "confusing considerations" in the back of my head. I think we all know the source of those, and I'm in a battle to knock them out of my brain.
Chances are, you're hearing from God, too. You know it in the depths of your heart. He's giving you work to do. Don't dismiss it away with excuses and fears. Just do it.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
My 25th anniversary of motherhood
Twenty-five years ago today, I became a mother. This is fairly remarkable considering my son and I nearly died on this very same day.
It was May 19, 1986. I was eleven days overdue. The doctor was predicting a 9+ pound baby. I really had no frame of reference, so I didn't even think about the difficulty of delivering. I just wanted that kid out! The doc decided it was time to induce labor, and off to the hospital we went. Within an hour, my little mister was in distress, and the decision was made to do an emergency C-section.
The next thing I remember, I was in the recovery room trying desperately to breathe. Apparently, during the procedure, my blood pressure bottomed out, and they almost lost me.
I didn't fully wake up for probably 36 hours. (Sorry to anyone who visited during that time...I don't remember.) At some point, I was told I had a son, and I vaguely recall seeing him. I didn't know until a day or two later that he barely survived also. When they got to him, he had the umbilical cord wrapped snugly around his neck and was suffocating.
Oh, and the "little" guy was not just a 9 pounder. He weighed 10 pounds, 5 ounces. Eek! The nurses dubbed him "The Refrigerator" (after the Chicago Bears' defensive lineman). The only other baby in the nursery of the small town hospital was a 5 pound baby girl. He looked like a tank next to her! Doc said he ordered a steak his first night in the hospital... :)
In the days and years to come, my miracle baby was the easiest, most compliant child a momma could ask for. He was always happy, easy-going, loving and sweet. His smile, encased by dimples, could melt the hardest heart and ease the sharpest pain. If he saw me crying, he would crawl up in my lap, wrap his arms around my neck and say, "Don't cry, Mommy. Everything will be all right."
We went through a rough patch in his teen years, but God has brought so much good out of those trials and tribulations...for both of us. The Lord is still molding and shaping Jeremy into the man He wants him to be, and though it has been painful at times, I'm still privileged to be a part of that.
Jeremy is working hard to build his life now, and I can't express how proud I am of him. He's a good man.
Did I just say he was a man? Well, I guess I have to accept that he is. But somewhere in my heart, he will always be the little boy with the dimpled smile that lights up a room. I love you, son, and happy birthday!
"My son, keep your father’s command and do not forsake your mother’s teaching." Proverbs 6:20
It was May 19, 1986. I was eleven days overdue. The doctor was predicting a 9+ pound baby. I really had no frame of reference, so I didn't even think about the difficulty of delivering. I just wanted that kid out! The doc decided it was time to induce labor, and off to the hospital we went. Within an hour, my little mister was in distress, and the decision was made to do an emergency C-section.
The next thing I remember, I was in the recovery room trying desperately to breathe. Apparently, during the procedure, my blood pressure bottomed out, and they almost lost me.
I didn't fully wake up for probably 36 hours. (Sorry to anyone who visited during that time...I don't remember.) At some point, I was told I had a son, and I vaguely recall seeing him. I didn't know until a day or two later that he barely survived also. When they got to him, he had the umbilical cord wrapped snugly around his neck and was suffocating.
Oh, and the "little" guy was not just a 9 pounder. He weighed 10 pounds, 5 ounces. Eek! The nurses dubbed him "The Refrigerator" (after the Chicago Bears' defensive lineman). The only other baby in the nursery of the small town hospital was a 5 pound baby girl. He looked like a tank next to her! Doc said he ordered a steak his first night in the hospital... :)
In the days and years to come, my miracle baby was the easiest, most compliant child a momma could ask for. He was always happy, easy-going, loving and sweet. His smile, encased by dimples, could melt the hardest heart and ease the sharpest pain. If he saw me crying, he would crawl up in my lap, wrap his arms around my neck and say, "Don't cry, Mommy. Everything will be all right."
We went through a rough patch in his teen years, but God has brought so much good out of those trials and tribulations...for both of us. The Lord is still molding and shaping Jeremy into the man He wants him to be, and though it has been painful at times, I'm still privileged to be a part of that.
Jeremy is working hard to build his life now, and I can't express how proud I am of him. He's a good man.
Did I just say he was a man? Well, I guess I have to accept that he is. But somewhere in my heart, he will always be the little boy with the dimpled smile that lights up a room. I love you, son, and happy birthday!
"My son, keep your father’s command and do not forsake your mother’s teaching." Proverbs 6:20
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Messy mercy
I have a picture on my desk of my two oldest children. It was taken when they were around the ages of 4 and 8. To anyone else, it's just a cute picture of a couple of kids. To me, it reminds me every day to dispense mercy.
You see, the picture was taken a couple of years after my divorce. Those first few years were not easy. You could say it was my own doing, since I was the one who left, and I suffered heavily under my own guilt and shame. It was multiplied by unkind responses from family, friends, church members, and even a pastor. At times, I felt completely alone in the world.
Did I deserve to be treated that way? Yes; I hurt a lot of people. Did it help the situation to be treated that way? No, in fact, it made things worse, especially for the two cute kids in my picture - innocent children caught in the exchange of verbal fire.
In addition to mistreatment from others, I began to use myself as a punching bag. In what became a pointless battle, I beat myself up repeatedly, know full well I could do nothing to change the situation.
A few years later, I was able to find my way out of the boxing ring after reading Psalm 103. "He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities." At first it seemed crazy to me that God would not accuse us of every sin. After some thought, I realized if He brought conviction upon us for every sin we committed, we'd be convicted all day long. And a lot of that conviction would be the lack of mercy we show to others, when this verse tells us even the Holy God of the universe doesn't treat us as we deserve!
What a relief, to know that there is always mercy! Think about it, have you ever paid the full price for your sins? Have you ever gotten all that you deserve for the harm you've caused others? Nope. We owe that to Jesus. He took the beating we deserved. God's own innocent child paid the ultimate price.
A few months ago, our pastor gave a sermon about forgiveness. He read the parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:21-35), and then he shared this Scripture: "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." In other words, if we dole out "messy mercy" to others, that's the mercy we will receive in return. I don't know about you, but I don't want messy mercy! I want healthy doses of mercy!
So every time I look at this picture on my desk, I remember the messy mercy I was given after my divorce. It reminds me to forgive and treat others with the love and kindness I hope to receive in return. Even if they don't deserve it. God knows I don't.
You see, the picture was taken a couple of years after my divorce. Those first few years were not easy. You could say it was my own doing, since I was the one who left, and I suffered heavily under my own guilt and shame. It was multiplied by unkind responses from family, friends, church members, and even a pastor. At times, I felt completely alone in the world.
Did I deserve to be treated that way? Yes; I hurt a lot of people. Did it help the situation to be treated that way? No, in fact, it made things worse, especially for the two cute kids in my picture - innocent children caught in the exchange of verbal fire.
In addition to mistreatment from others, I began to use myself as a punching bag. In what became a pointless battle, I beat myself up repeatedly, know full well I could do nothing to change the situation.
A few years later, I was able to find my way out of the boxing ring after reading Psalm 103. "He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities." At first it seemed crazy to me that God would not accuse us of every sin. After some thought, I realized if He brought conviction upon us for every sin we committed, we'd be convicted all day long. And a lot of that conviction would be the lack of mercy we show to others, when this verse tells us even the Holy God of the universe doesn't treat us as we deserve!
What a relief, to know that there is always mercy! Think about it, have you ever paid the full price for your sins? Have you ever gotten all that you deserve for the harm you've caused others? Nope. We owe that to Jesus. He took the beating we deserved. God's own innocent child paid the ultimate price.
A few months ago, our pastor gave a sermon about forgiveness. He read the parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:21-35), and then he shared this Scripture: "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." In other words, if we dole out "messy mercy" to others, that's the mercy we will receive in return. I don't know about you, but I don't want messy mercy! I want healthy doses of mercy!
So every time I look at this picture on my desk, I remember the messy mercy I was given after my divorce. It reminds me to forgive and treat others with the love and kindness I hope to receive in return. Even if they don't deserve it. God knows I don't.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Should Christian women vent?
As Christian women, we've all done it. We do it on a regular basis. It feels great, both during and after. No, I'm not talking about sex...and shame on you for thinking that! ;)
I'm talking about venting - you know, releasing frustrations and anger and saying what you REALLY think or really wanted to say but couldn't. If I had a dime for every time I've heard a woman (including myself) say, "I really need to vent", I'd probably be a millionaire. Being the emotional creatures God has created us to be, we possess a seemingly innate desire to express those emotions. At times, we feel as if we will explode if we don't let it out!
Mental health experts tell us it is healthy to express ourselves. But is venting godly? Let's ask ourselves a few questions.
Those who listen to our vents have their ears assaulted by complaints, slander, and gossip. Our words should build others up, encourage, and exhort. Instead, our venting is focused on tearing someone down. Our motivation is to make sure someone else knows we've been wronged. That doesn't honor God at all. Philippians 2:3 says, "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves."
I know what you're thinking. You're saying, "Oh, but Lisa, you don't know...I HAVE to process these emotions! If I don't talk to someone about it, I won't be able to get past it!" Oh, but I do know. I'm a woman too! This entire post came out of a recent experience in which God revealed to me the ugliness of the things I vent about and the need to make a change.
As I see it, the solution is two-fold. One, we need to have a proper view of the person who has wronged us. They are not the enemy. "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12) This is the work of the evil one, who delights in our venting!
A friend of mine said this to me today: "Help me to remember we are ALL His beloved. Even when I'm upset with people, help me remember, God loves each one of us intimately and passionately." When we see others as God sees them, it takes the sting out of our own hurt.
Secondly, we can still vent, we just need to vent to the right Person. Our Heavenly Father wants us to come to Him with our cares, our frustrations, our hurt, and our pain. "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7) Note it says, ALL. And really, why wouldn't we take this stuff to God? He's the only One who can do anything about it anyway, right?
But what about Galatians 6:2? "Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." I love Matthew Henry's commentary on this. "It becomes us to bear one another's burdens, as fellow-travellers. It is very common for a man to look upon himself as wiser and better than other men, and as fit to dictate to them. Such a one deceives himself; by pretending to what he has not, he puts a cheat upon himself, and sooner or later will find the sad effects. This will never gain esteem, either with God or men. Every one is advised to prove his own work. The better we know our own hearts and ways, the less shall we despise others, and the more be disposed to help them under infirmities and afflictions."
I'm talking about venting - you know, releasing frustrations and anger and saying what you REALLY think or really wanted to say but couldn't. If I had a dime for every time I've heard a woman (including myself) say, "I really need to vent", I'd probably be a millionaire. Being the emotional creatures God has created us to be, we possess a seemingly innate desire to express those emotions. At times, we feel as if we will explode if we don't let it out!
Mental health experts tell us it is healthy to express ourselves. But is venting godly? Let's ask ourselves a few questions.
- Is venting a need or a want?
- Does it honor God?
Those who listen to our vents have their ears assaulted by complaints, slander, and gossip. Our words should build others up, encourage, and exhort. Instead, our venting is focused on tearing someone down. Our motivation is to make sure someone else knows we've been wronged. That doesn't honor God at all. Philippians 2:3 says, "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves."
- Does it cause us to sin?
I know what you're thinking. You're saying, "Oh, but Lisa, you don't know...I HAVE to process these emotions! If I don't talk to someone about it, I won't be able to get past it!" Oh, but I do know. I'm a woman too! This entire post came out of a recent experience in which God revealed to me the ugliness of the things I vent about and the need to make a change.
As I see it, the solution is two-fold. One, we need to have a proper view of the person who has wronged us. They are not the enemy. "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12) This is the work of the evil one, who delights in our venting!
A friend of mine said this to me today: "Help me to remember we are ALL His beloved. Even when I'm upset with people, help me remember, God loves each one of us intimately and passionately." When we see others as God sees them, it takes the sting out of our own hurt.
Secondly, we can still vent, we just need to vent to the right Person. Our Heavenly Father wants us to come to Him with our cares, our frustrations, our hurt, and our pain. "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7) Note it says, ALL. And really, why wouldn't we take this stuff to God? He's the only One who can do anything about it anyway, right?
But what about Galatians 6:2? "Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." I love Matthew Henry's commentary on this. "It becomes us to bear one another's burdens, as fellow-travellers. It is very common for a man to look upon himself as wiser and better than other men, and as fit to dictate to them. Such a one deceives himself; by pretending to what he has not, he puts a cheat upon himself, and sooner or later will find the sad effects. This will never gain esteem, either with God or men. Every one is advised to prove his own work. The better we know our own hearts and ways, the less shall we despise others, and the more be disposed to help them under infirmities and afflictions."
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Hallmark doesn't make a Mothers' Day card for those who hurt
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed." Psalm 34:18
Ah yes, Mothers' Day. The day of flowers, candy, cards, phone calls, and breakfast in bed. For some of us, it's a wonderful day of being pampered and appreciated by our families.
For others, the day is difficult and filled with grief. This year, I encourage you to think of people you know who might need acknowledgement on Mothers' Day - those who are hurting.
Remember...
- Those who have lost their mothers, even if it has been years
- Those who have lost children
- Those who have given up a child for adoption
- Those who have been unable to conceive
- Those who have had an abortion
I'd tell you to send a card, but Hallmark doesn't make one. I looked. Instead, pick up the phone and call, leave them a message on Facebook, or give them a hug. Just let them know you are thinking of them on what might be a painful day.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Even the birds proclaim the King
At least one of my faithful readers will be happy to hear that I took my dogs for a walk this morning.
This morning we had the most peaceful walk we've had in a long, long time. We didn't encounter people or dogs, and there wasn't even a single car that went by. (This begs the question - did my whole neighborhood go to church this morning, or were they all sleeping?)
Walking and listening to the birds, I wondered if those were the sounds the women heard as they walked to Jesus' tomb that morning. They had probably been up all night weeping, and they knew the job they had to do would only make them cry again. Filled with grief themselves, they probably thought the birds were singing a dirge.
And when they got there...the shock, fear, and confusion as they found the tomb empty. And finally, their joy as the angel explained what had happened. How genius it was of Jesus to have raised Lazarus from the dead so they would have known it was possible!
It was then they heard it...the song of resurrection the birds were singing. They sing it every Resurrection Sunday and have for over 2000 years. I imagine they will sing it for all eternity!
This morning we had the most peaceful walk we've had in a long, long time. We didn't encounter people or dogs, and there wasn't even a single car that went by. (This begs the question - did my whole neighborhood go to church this morning, or were they all sleeping?)
Walking and listening to the birds, I wondered if those were the sounds the women heard as they walked to Jesus' tomb that morning. They had probably been up all night weeping, and they knew the job they had to do would only make them cry again. Filled with grief themselves, they probably thought the birds were singing a dirge.
And when they got there...the shock, fear, and confusion as they found the tomb empty. And finally, their joy as the angel explained what had happened. How genius it was of Jesus to have raised Lazarus from the dead so they would have known it was possible!
It was then they heard it...the song of resurrection the birds were singing. They sing it every Resurrection Sunday and have for over 2000 years. I imagine they will sing it for all eternity!
Friday, April 08, 2011
We can't even be civil about civility!
"Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them, 'Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand.'" - Matthew 12:25
You won't often find me commenting on politics, unless it is an observation on the process itself. I'm not a Republican or a Democrat or member of the Tea Party. I'm just an American who, right now, is very disappointed in the leaders of our country. All of them.
I don't know how I missed this story when it initially broke, but I suspect few people saw it at all. (Enter disappointment in the media, as well.)
On the eve of Barack Obama's inauguration, Mark DeMoss and Lanny David launched The Civility Project. Their aim was "to call people from all races, walks of life, and religious and political persuasions to graciousness, kindness, common decency and respect—civility—toward all people, and particularly those with whom we may disagree."
In May 2010, DeMoss and David sent a personal letter to every member of Congress and sitting governor—585 letters—inviting them to sign a simple pledge of civility as we headed into mid-term elections. The pledge read as follows:
You won't often find me commenting on politics, unless it is an observation on the process itself. I'm not a Republican or a Democrat or member of the Tea Party. I'm just an American who, right now, is very disappointed in the leaders of our country. All of them.
I don't know how I missed this story when it initially broke, but I suspect few people saw it at all. (Enter disappointment in the media, as well.)
On the eve of Barack Obama's inauguration, Mark DeMoss and Lanny David launched The Civility Project. Their aim was "to call people from all races, walks of life, and religious and political persuasions to graciousness, kindness, common decency and respect—civility—toward all people, and particularly those with whom we may disagree."
In May 2010, DeMoss and David sent a personal letter to every member of Congress and sitting governor—585 letters—inviting them to sign a simple pledge of civility as we headed into mid-term elections. The pledge read as follows:
- I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior.
- I will be respectful of others whether or not I agree with them.
- I will stand against incivility when I see it.
Only 3 members of Congress - and no governors - signed the pledge.
After spending thousands of dollars and countless hours investing in this project, DeMoss shut it down in January. In doing so, he expressed surprise, disgust and concern for reactions to the project. DeMoss said, "Perhaps one of the most surprising results of this project has been the tone and language used by many of those posting comments on our website and following articles on various media websites about the project. Many of them could not be printed or spoken in public media due to vulgar language and vicious personal attacks." As a country, we can't even be civil about civility!
This attitude is not limited to Washington, D.C. It is spilling over into evangelical faith (think Rob Bell), state government (think Wisconsin), and our youth (walk through any school). Read Facebook or Twitter for about five minutes; you'll see it. Or will you? I'm beginning to think we've either become numb to it or have accepted it as some sort of higher intellectual plane.
In the words of Patrick Henry, "Let us trust God and our better judgment to set us right hereafter. United we stand, divided we fall. Let us not split into factions which must destroy that union upon which our existence hangs.”
For more information about The Civility Project, visit www.civilityproject.org.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Heaven for the introvert
I'm sitting here today contemplating heaven. I thinking about what it might be like, but I'm also wondering what I will be like. I know I will have a new body, one that is not susceptible to sickness, allergies, or sensual desires. Although I know myself pretty well, I can't help but question how my personality will function under these new conditions.
For example, I'm an introvert, which means I get energized when I am alone. I realize I will no longer be subjected to things of the fallen world that often drive me into seclusion. I also won't get tired, so I won't need alone time to recharge my batteries. But a lot of the time, I like to be alone because I enjoy being reflective. I like to meditate, contemplate, and dream.
I've always said "God made me this way." If that's true, does that make that part of me eternal? And if it does, does that mean I will prefer to be alone in heaven? I'm not sure how I feel about that. There will be so many incredible things to check out!
Maybe it just means I can be alone when I want to be alone. I was interrupted by dogs, children, the phone, and my husband while writing this blog post, so that sounds pretty heavenly to me!
What do you think?
For example, I'm an introvert, which means I get energized when I am alone. I realize I will no longer be subjected to things of the fallen world that often drive me into seclusion. I also won't get tired, so I won't need alone time to recharge my batteries. But a lot of the time, I like to be alone because I enjoy being reflective. I like to meditate, contemplate, and dream.
I've always said "God made me this way." If that's true, does that make that part of me eternal? And if it does, does that mean I will prefer to be alone in heaven? I'm not sure how I feel about that. There will be so many incredible things to check out!
Maybe it just means I can be alone when I want to be alone. I was interrupted by dogs, children, the phone, and my husband while writing this blog post, so that sounds pretty heavenly to me!
What do you think?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
8 things parents of teens should never do on Facebook
Most teenagers have come to terms with the fact their parents are now on Facebook, but many would prefer they were not. Social media sites like MySpace and Facebook originally gave young people a cyber hangout of their own, and now the adults are taking over.
Being parents, it is our inherent nature to ruin things for our teens. Or is it? I say parents and teens can co-exist on Facebook with a few ground rules (on both sides) and still maintain a good relationship with quality communication.
I'll pick on the grown-ups first. After all, we SHOULD know better, but most of the time we've forgotten what it was like to be 14. So here we go - the 8 things parents of teenagers should never do on Facebook:
1. Stalk your child. There's a lot to be said for making sure your child is safe on the internet, but that doesn't mean you need to read every single post on your teen's wall. And even more so, you don't need to comment on and/or "like" everything they post.
2. Stalk your child's friends. Commenting on your teen's friend's status will either make you look like a dork or a creeper. Take your pick. Plus, it's just uber embarrassing to your kid. Don't do it.
3. Post pictures or stories about your teen without their permission, even if you think they are funny. I can almost guarantee you, your son or daughter will be unamused.
4. Criticize people and/or be generally negative. This makes you look petty and is a general turnoff to anyone on Facebook.
5. Embarrass yourself. You may think that video of you dancing at your niece's wedding is hilarious, but the rest of the family has just told everyone to block you.
6. Post when you're angry or upset. This is just good advice for anyone on Facebook. You will most likely regret it later, so wait until you are calm to share your frustrations with the world.
7. Use street lingo. "Why you always be talkin' ghetto? Get yo'self a propa' e-ju-ma-kay-shun!" Seriously, you are not ghetto, punk or crunk. You're a middle-aged man or woman from the suburbs. Deal with it.
8. Type in all caps. This is considering shouting. Shouting is rude.
By the way, I can honestly say (and my kids will agree), I've been guilty of some of these things. I've learned the hard way, so I'm hoping to spare you some pain. So rock on, my homies! (Oops. I still have a lot to learn, I guess.)
Being parents, it is our inherent nature to ruin things for our teens. Or is it? I say parents and teens can co-exist on Facebook with a few ground rules (on both sides) and still maintain a good relationship with quality communication.
I'll pick on the grown-ups first. After all, we SHOULD know better, but most of the time we've forgotten what it was like to be 14. So here we go - the 8 things parents of teenagers should never do on Facebook:
1. Stalk your child. There's a lot to be said for making sure your child is safe on the internet, but that doesn't mean you need to read every single post on your teen's wall. And even more so, you don't need to comment on and/or "like" everything they post.
2. Stalk your child's friends. Commenting on your teen's friend's status will either make you look like a dork or a creeper. Take your pick. Plus, it's just uber embarrassing to your kid. Don't do it.
3. Post pictures or stories about your teen without their permission, even if you think they are funny. I can almost guarantee you, your son or daughter will be unamused.
4. Criticize people and/or be generally negative. This makes you look petty and is a general turnoff to anyone on Facebook.
5. Embarrass yourself. You may think that video of you dancing at your niece's wedding is hilarious, but the rest of the family has just told everyone to block you.
6. Post when you're angry or upset. This is just good advice for anyone on Facebook. You will most likely regret it later, so wait until you are calm to share your frustrations with the world.
7. Use street lingo. "Why you always be talkin' ghetto? Get yo'self a propa' e-ju-ma-kay-shun!" Seriously, you are not ghetto, punk or crunk. You're a middle-aged man or woman from the suburbs. Deal with it.
8. Type in all caps. This is considering shouting. Shouting is rude.
By the way, I can honestly say (and my kids will agree), I've been guilty of some of these things. I've learned the hard way, so I'm hoping to spare you some pain. So rock on, my homies! (Oops. I still have a lot to learn, I guess.)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Coming around the corner and bumping into Jesus
It's funny how words affect us.
I've been reading a devotional book called "Jesus Calling", by Sarah Young. I really like this book because each entry is like a personal message from Jesus. The book often encourages me to focus on Him, but I keep asking, "How do I do that?"
I also am reading "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers, and today's reading gave me a mental picture to help me understand how to live this out. (Note to self: remember this the next time you get annoyed because someone else says the same thing to your husband that you did, only using different words, and he listens to them!) Chambers says we should be "expecting Jesus Christ at every turn. This will give our life the attitude of child-wonder which He wants it to have."
I started to imagine what my day might look like if I were to expect Jesus around every corner. What if I expected to encounter Him as I'm walking the dogs, shopping at the grocery store, driving in my car, or doing laundry?
Jesus told us to seek and we will find. How can we find Jesus if we don't seek Him? Seeking something (or in this case, someone) includes an expectation of finding it. If I go to the grocery store seeking apples, I expect to find them. If I approach every part of my day expecting to find Jesus, I can be assured I will. And when I find Him, I will also find peace.
One could compare it to a game of hide-and-seek, except in this case, no one is hiding. I wonder how many times I've walked right past Him and didn't even know it.
My expectations are set high today. This is gonna be great!
I've been reading a devotional book called "Jesus Calling", by Sarah Young. I really like this book because each entry is like a personal message from Jesus. The book often encourages me to focus on Him, but I keep asking, "How do I do that?"
I also am reading "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers, and today's reading gave me a mental picture to help me understand how to live this out. (Note to self: remember this the next time you get annoyed because someone else says the same thing to your husband that you did, only using different words, and he listens to them!) Chambers says we should be "expecting Jesus Christ at every turn. This will give our life the attitude of child-wonder which He wants it to have."
I started to imagine what my day might look like if I were to expect Jesus around every corner. What if I expected to encounter Him as I'm walking the dogs, shopping at the grocery store, driving in my car, or doing laundry?
Jesus told us to seek and we will find. How can we find Jesus if we don't seek Him? Seeking something (or in this case, someone) includes an expectation of finding it. If I go to the grocery store seeking apples, I expect to find them. If I approach every part of my day expecting to find Jesus, I can be assured I will. And when I find Him, I will also find peace.
One could compare it to a game of hide-and-seek, except in this case, no one is hiding. I wonder how many times I've walked right past Him and didn't even know it.
My expectations are set high today. This is gonna be great!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
He gives and takes away
I am the very proud mother of four children - one son and three daughters. My oldest daughter, Alyssa, left us 22 years ago quite unexpectedly. She has celebrated every one of her birthdays in heaven, including today.
This day is usually quite emotional for me, but it's also really necessary in the grief journey. I don't know if people always understand that. These "anniversary" days tend to make most people uncomfortable. They don't know what to say, and they certainly don't know what to do with your emotion. (By the way, a simple acknowledgement that you remember means more than you know.)
I worried that today would be harder than usual because I had been doing so well in the days leading up to it. Typically, I struggle more with the anticipation of the day than the day itself. So I figured I would be a mess today, but it hasn't been too bad.
Being the ever-questioning type, I wondered why. I started thinking about what was different in the past year, and I realized something really cool. God has been bringing some young women into my life, all very close to Alyssa's age. These women are allowing me to share motherly and godly wisdom with them and to walk alongside them in their 20-something struggles. I even have one living in my house! It's easing the loss and blessing me in a way I never imagined. As the song goes, "He gives and takes away." And as usual, God always gives more than He takes.
I did shed some tears today, though they were happy ones. I was in the car, listening to my favorite band, and this song came on. It is a beautiful song which always moves me, but today it took on a whole new meaning...
Always (Switchfoot)
This is the star, this is your heart
This is the day you were born
This is the sun, these are your lungs
This is the day you were born
And I am always, always, always yours
And I am always, always, always yours
These are the scars deep in your heart
This is the place you were born
And this is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out
From the places you've been torn
And it is always, always, always yours
And I am always, I'm always, I'm always yours
Hallelujah, I'm caving in
Hallelujah, I'm in love again
Hallelujah, I'm a wretched man
Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance, yeah
And it is always, always, always yours
And I am always, I'm always, always yours
Always, always, I'm always yours, I'm yours
Always, always, I am always yours
This day is usually quite emotional for me, but it's also really necessary in the grief journey. I don't know if people always understand that. These "anniversary" days tend to make most people uncomfortable. They don't know what to say, and they certainly don't know what to do with your emotion. (By the way, a simple acknowledgement that you remember means more than you know.)
I worried that today would be harder than usual because I had been doing so well in the days leading up to it. Typically, I struggle more with the anticipation of the day than the day itself. So I figured I would be a mess today, but it hasn't been too bad.
Being the ever-questioning type, I wondered why. I started thinking about what was different in the past year, and I realized something really cool. God has been bringing some young women into my life, all very close to Alyssa's age. These women are allowing me to share motherly and godly wisdom with them and to walk alongside them in their 20-something struggles. I even have one living in my house! It's easing the loss and blessing me in a way I never imagined. As the song goes, "He gives and takes away." And as usual, God always gives more than He takes.
I did shed some tears today, though they were happy ones. I was in the car, listening to my favorite band, and this song came on. It is a beautiful song which always moves me, but today it took on a whole new meaning...
Always (Switchfoot)
This is the star, this is your heart
This is the day you were born
This is the sun, these are your lungs
This is the day you were born
And I am always, always, always yours
And I am always, always, always yours
These are the scars deep in your heart
This is the place you were born
And this is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out
From the places you've been torn
And it is always, always, always yours
And I am always, I'm always, I'm always yours
Hallelujah, I'm caving in
Hallelujah, I'm in love again
Hallelujah, I'm a wretched man
Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance, yeah
And it is always, always, always yours
And I am always, I'm always, always yours
Always, always, I'm always yours, I'm yours
Always, always, I am always yours
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Media Free Mondays - Day 3
We went into this week knowing it would be the last time we would "have" to participate in Media Free Monday. We finally wised up and proactively planned some things that would get us out of the overwhelming quiet of the house.
Kelsey escaped the event entirely by spending all day and evening at the Mall of America with friends. OK, I can't really fault her for that. It's spring break, and she deserves to have some fun.
The rest of us decided to go out to eat, something we rarely do because my poor family is stuck with a wife/mother who loves to cook. We let Emma choose the restaurant, and she picked Outback. Smart girl. She knows both Mom and Dad love that place.
We had a nice dinner and good conversation, as our cell phones were safely tucked away. Afterward, we decided to do some shopping. We needed to pick up a birthday gift for a family member, and I wanted to look for a bridal shower gift as well.
Away to Target we went. I assigned the birthday gift shopping to Dan and Emma, while I went another direction in search of the shower gift. I found what I wanted and then headed to the toy section, where I thought Dan and Emma would be. They weren't there. Guess what my first thought was? Yep, I'll just call them on the cell phone. Uh, nope, I can't do that!
They were in the same boat, looking all over the store for me with no luck. They even ran into a friend of ours who wanted to say hi to me, but they informed her they could not call me because it was "Amish night." Eventually, we found each other, and once again we were left wondering how we ever managed without our precious electronics!
We could have done more shopping but decided we really should head home to take care of the dogs. That meant we still had a couple hours to endure the silence at home. Emma and I both had some things to finish up before bedtime, which left Dan to play solitaire while practically going insane. He'd had a difficult day at work and said this was one of those days when he really would have loved to wind down with TV.
Before we called it a night, we talked about this experiment and the things it has revealed to us. Namely, we all recognize we are addicted to our electronics. But we also realized that we bond best as a family through the use of all these things. We communicate with one another, we play together, and we relax together. We have learned to use media as a tool to bring us closer together.
That being said, I asked if we should continue Media Free Mondays. If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now!
So we will chalk this up as a useful, albeit difficult lesson. We will all be more aware of our electronics use, and hopefully we will choose wisely. And next Monday, I believe you'll find us bonding over Dancing With the Stars while Facebooking, Tweeting, and texting one another.
Kelsey escaped the event entirely by spending all day and evening at the Mall of America with friends. OK, I can't really fault her for that. It's spring break, and she deserves to have some fun.
The rest of us decided to go out to eat, something we rarely do because my poor family is stuck with a wife/mother who loves to cook. We let Emma choose the restaurant, and she picked Outback. Smart girl. She knows both Mom and Dad love that place.
We had a nice dinner and good conversation, as our cell phones were safely tucked away. Afterward, we decided to do some shopping. We needed to pick up a birthday gift for a family member, and I wanted to look for a bridal shower gift as well.
Away to Target we went. I assigned the birthday gift shopping to Dan and Emma, while I went another direction in search of the shower gift. I found what I wanted and then headed to the toy section, where I thought Dan and Emma would be. They weren't there. Guess what my first thought was? Yep, I'll just call them on the cell phone. Uh, nope, I can't do that!
They were in the same boat, looking all over the store for me with no luck. They even ran into a friend of ours who wanted to say hi to me, but they informed her they could not call me because it was "Amish night." Eventually, we found each other, and once again we were left wondering how we ever managed without our precious electronics!
We could have done more shopping but decided we really should head home to take care of the dogs. That meant we still had a couple hours to endure the silence at home. Emma and I both had some things to finish up before bedtime, which left Dan to play solitaire while practically going insane. He'd had a difficult day at work and said this was one of those days when he really would have loved to wind down with TV.
Before we called it a night, we talked about this experiment and the things it has revealed to us. Namely, we all recognize we are addicted to our electronics. But we also realized that we bond best as a family through the use of all these things. We communicate with one another, we play together, and we relax together. We have learned to use media as a tool to bring us closer together.
That being said, I asked if we should continue Media Free Mondays. If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now!
So we will chalk this up as a useful, albeit difficult lesson. We will all be more aware of our electronics use, and hopefully we will choose wisely. And next Monday, I believe you'll find us bonding over Dancing With the Stars while Facebooking, Tweeting, and texting one another.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Media Free Mondays - Day 2
It was unanimous. When I asked my family if they thought the second night of fasting from electronics would be easier than the first, it was a resounding "No."
Yesterday morning, Emma asked, "Are we having 'Amish night' again tonight?" I laughed at her nickname for our little experiment and replied that we were indeed having a media free night. "Might as well grow a beard," she responded.
I had decided last week to make sure we had something planned to do this time, but the day got away from me. (Why are Mondays always like that?) So, there we were in a very quiet house again.
I actually broke the rules absent-mindedly this time. We have a multi-level house, so it's very convenient to text one another with questions rather than yelling or traveling up and down multiple flights of stairs. In the middle of making dinner, while once again missing the laughter of an old sitcom, I realized we had run out of milk. One of the dishes I was preparing called for milk, so naturally I picked up my phone and sent a text to Dan, asking if he could run to the store for me. He answered and said he would as soon as he got off the phone. When he came downstairs, he pointed out that I had broken the rules. I was shocked - I hadn't even realized I did it!
After dinner, I sent Dan and Emma out of the house on an errand for me. I thought a change of scenery might help them both to deal with the quiet of the house. I have to admit, the absolute peace and quiet in the house while they were gone was refreshing for me. It's rare to experience that kind of silence at our house. I only wished I had the time to sit down and focus my thoughts. Of course, that would have required journaling on actual paper with an actual pen. Gasp!
When they returned, Emma took a shower, so Dan and I had some time to talk. Again, something that seldom happens without interruption or background noise, so it was nice for me. Soon though, Dan admitted the quiet was getting to him.
In fact, we all got a little silly playing a card game Dan taught us. It's called Mille Bornes, and Dan's family used to play it a lot at family gatherings. We had it in our "game closet" but had never opened it or tried it at all.
I'm not sure if the game was that fun, or if we were all just a little loopy, but we had a good time playing. We might even play again tonight. Of course, this time, the TV will be on in the background...
Yesterday morning, Emma asked, "Are we having 'Amish night' again tonight?" I laughed at her nickname for our little experiment and replied that we were indeed having a media free night. "Might as well grow a beard," she responded.
I had decided last week to make sure we had something planned to do this time, but the day got away from me. (Why are Mondays always like that?) So, there we were in a very quiet house again.
I actually broke the rules absent-mindedly this time. We have a multi-level house, so it's very convenient to text one another with questions rather than yelling or traveling up and down multiple flights of stairs. In the middle of making dinner, while once again missing the laughter of an old sitcom, I realized we had run out of milk. One of the dishes I was preparing called for milk, so naturally I picked up my phone and sent a text to Dan, asking if he could run to the store for me. He answered and said he would as soon as he got off the phone. When he came downstairs, he pointed out that I had broken the rules. I was shocked - I hadn't even realized I did it!
After dinner, I sent Dan and Emma out of the house on an errand for me. I thought a change of scenery might help them both to deal with the quiet of the house. I have to admit, the absolute peace and quiet in the house while they were gone was refreshing for me. It's rare to experience that kind of silence at our house. I only wished I had the time to sit down and focus my thoughts. Of course, that would have required journaling on actual paper with an actual pen. Gasp!
When they returned, Emma took a shower, so Dan and I had some time to talk. Again, something that seldom happens without interruption or background noise, so it was nice for me. Soon though, Dan admitted the quiet was getting to him.
In fact, we all got a little silly playing a card game Dan taught us. It's called Mille Bornes, and Dan's family used to play it a lot at family gatherings. We had it in our "game closet" but had never opened it or tried it at all.
I'm not sure if the game was that fun, or if we were all just a little loopy, but we had a good time playing. We might even play again tonight. Of course, this time, the TV will be on in the background...
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Media Free Mondays - We Survived Day 1!
When we decided to try Media Free Mondays, I didn't have any "pie in the sky" expectations that we would be transformed into some cheesy TV family who always gets along. I did, however, have some ideas of how things might play out. I pictured myself doing a lot of reading and enjoying the lack of background noise. I anticipated my husband and youngest daughter would channel their competitive spirit by playing lots of board games. And I assumed my oldest daughter would be holed up in her room doing homework.
What I didn't plan on was Dan having an insane work day that stretched well into the evening hours. My own workload got pushed back due to an appointment in the late afternoon, Kelsey was at her job, and Emma had a pile of homework. As a result, we all ended up doing this media fast on our own for the better part of the evening.
We decided to shut everything off at 5:00, just as I was preparing to make dinner. Our kitchen is open to the family room, and I have a habit of turning on some goofy sitcom while I'm cooking. Not 30 seconds into the experiment, and I found myself reaching for a remote. Yikes. I caught myself but was surprised to discover how habitually I reached for electronics.
I went back to cooking but decided the house was much too quiet. I thought, "I know, I'll just turn on some music!" Or not...since all my music is on my computer and Ipod. This was getting harder.
Dan, Emma, and I had dinner together and enjoyed our conversations. Early in our marriage, I had always insisted the TV was off during meal times, and I also had a rule about not answering the phone. I'm not sure when or how that lapsed over the years, but until last night, I hadn't really given it much thought. I guess the distractions can creep up on you.
Before dinner was over, we caught Dan reading a text on his phone. He didn't even realize he did it; it was just so natural to pick it up.
Dan went back to his office to work, Emma headed to the shower, and Kelsey was in her room doing homework. This would have been the perfect time to enjoy a book, but I found myself too sleepy and lacking in concentration. I have to say, it really surprised me how much I missed unwinding with mindless drivel on TV.
The thing I missed the least was the cell phone, although I do usually communicate with my son each night through text messages. Maybe he needed the break though!
We did have some time to talk and relax before bedtime, and as we processed our thoughts for the evening, there was some concern expressed about bedtime rituals. Most of us fall asleep to some form of music or noise, and we decided it made no sense to be militant about the fast if it meant interrupting sleep.
I saved the best moment of the night for last, so you can leave laughing. About 30 minutes into Media Free Monday, Emma was lamenting the loss of her music and the inability to chat online with her friends. Her comment: "I feel so Amish!"
What I didn't plan on was Dan having an insane work day that stretched well into the evening hours. My own workload got pushed back due to an appointment in the late afternoon, Kelsey was at her job, and Emma had a pile of homework. As a result, we all ended up doing this media fast on our own for the better part of the evening.
We decided to shut everything off at 5:00, just as I was preparing to make dinner. Our kitchen is open to the family room, and I have a habit of turning on some goofy sitcom while I'm cooking. Not 30 seconds into the experiment, and I found myself reaching for a remote. Yikes. I caught myself but was surprised to discover how habitually I reached for electronics.
I went back to cooking but decided the house was much too quiet. I thought, "I know, I'll just turn on some music!" Or not...since all my music is on my computer and Ipod. This was getting harder.
Dan, Emma, and I had dinner together and enjoyed our conversations. Early in our marriage, I had always insisted the TV was off during meal times, and I also had a rule about not answering the phone. I'm not sure when or how that lapsed over the years, but until last night, I hadn't really given it much thought. I guess the distractions can creep up on you.
Before dinner was over, we caught Dan reading a text on his phone. He didn't even realize he did it; it was just so natural to pick it up.
Dan went back to his office to work, Emma headed to the shower, and Kelsey was in her room doing homework. This would have been the perfect time to enjoy a book, but I found myself too sleepy and lacking in concentration. I have to say, it really surprised me how much I missed unwinding with mindless drivel on TV.
The thing I missed the least was the cell phone, although I do usually communicate with my son each night through text messages. Maybe he needed the break though!
We did have some time to talk and relax before bedtime, and as we processed our thoughts for the evening, there was some concern expressed about bedtime rituals. Most of us fall asleep to some form of music or noise, and we decided it made no sense to be militant about the fast if it meant interrupting sleep.
I saved the best moment of the night for last, so you can leave laughing. About 30 minutes into Media Free Monday, Emma was lamenting the loss of her music and the inability to chat online with her friends. Her comment: "I feel so Amish!"
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