Reflection of 2011, Outlook of 2012

Reflection of 2011

     Last year, this day at 11:55 I sat at my kitchen table, exhausted, wondering why on earth I wanted to be awake in observance of the new year. I am hopelessly in love with tradition. I wanted my next year to be an offering to the Lord, and yet, the entire day had not consisted of me sitting at His feet. Not even once. And as I lay my head on the kitchen table I cried out to Him, hoping He’d answer me despite my lack of devotion in that day. But I knew He needed to give me a word for the new year. Just so you know, my method of word receiving is not typically opening the Bible at random and letting my face fall in the crease, then looking down my nose to see what the Lord wants to impart. Not usually. But this night, I was tired, and I asked the Lord to bless my effort. And as I fell I let my eyes close, and then I forced them to open. And when I focused I saw Psalm 127:3:

“Children are a gift from the Lord;

they are a reward from him.

Children born to a young man

are like arrows in a warrior's hands.

How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them!

He will not be put to shame when he confronts his accusers at the city gates.”

     It has reigned supremely true in this year. I walked into it headstrong against the world and my well-meaning conscious. If I was going to believe it, I was going to stop being a pill to my kids. I was going to stop acting like they were burdens on me. I was going to stop preventing the pursuit of more children. That’s right, on top of deciding that my kids were going to be my top priority, I also decided that if God considered them to be blessings, I wasn’t in any place to pick and choose what He had for me. More blessings, please. On top of this, I began to volunteer at the Pregnancy Center, a pro-life organization that educates and empowers women to make wise, well-informed decisions about their bodies, particularly when they are harboring a life. I LOVE that place. That has come to be my life’s calling, shepherding these girls into a place of worth, and calling them to a level of excellence in their mothering. It’s my heart’s desire for the Lord to use me there. Not only that, but I started a purity group at our church for some of the teenagers. It has since fallen through due to busy schedules. Out of that came a position at the Pregnancy Center as an “abstinence advocate,” where I get to promote sexual integrity to the unwed, also requiring me to be quite the expert in Natural Family Planning. It’s amazing how the Lord has woven this all together. The first week of the new year I have my first assignment at Summerville High. Alongside another lady (with far more experience than I), we will get to minister to three different freshman classes about the glorious benefits of marital sex! I am very excited about this. Two weeks later is the Walk For Life in San Francisco and I keep looking ahead, seeing myself in that place, proud of the place that I stand and what I stand for.

     I assumed a lot of things about this last year. For starters, I thought that if the Lord was going to teach me about children being a blessing, that I would immediately have another child. I thought He'd make me prove it.  And that scared me. And He knew that and I love that about Him. Instead, I had time to focus on my current children. I focused on the unborn and spreading the message that resonated in my heart. And I allowed myself, as His child, swell with pride and be overwhelmed by His love for me. If His plan values children, how much more does He value me as His child? The revelation of this has been a journey, some turns exciting, some twists confusing, and there is an entire blog devoted to just this. But I haven’t been ready to share. The time is soon.

 Outlook
     This year, I am pretty much in the same spot as last year. Here we are, several hours from the new year and I haven’t asked the Lord what on earth He is up to in my life for the new year! Paul and I plan on giving each other words tonight after the kids go to sleep, very excited about that! But my resolution is a tad selfish and yet is going to cost me all of my self. It’s selfish, because I don’t care what it takes, this is going to happen. And yet, I dread it because I fear my own failure. But I am tired of living in chaos. My house is clean. Sweet country cabin. But behind cabinets, in closets, underneath couches, underneath beds lurk outrageous messes. I am tired of not knowing where things are. I’m tired of not putting laundry away. I’m tired of not having peace in my home. And sometimes, us moms get overwhelmed. I’ve confirmed with moms more than enough to know that I’m not alone in this. But it doesn’t excuse me from my sloppiness. From my slothness. And I am determined to live by a schedule. Not a demanding, rigid one. But an outline, something to give me structure to my day because for now I envision us as a bunch of spaghetti noodles being flung about. Not sure why that is my vision, but it is. And the truth is, I don’t know what I am doing. So please hold me accountable to this guy here:

     The funniest thing happened when I wrote out my schedule. I actually was running out of things to do in my time blocks. 3 hours of combined playtime with the kids. 2 hours of prayer. 1 hr 45 minutes cleaning time. Plenty of Mommy free time. And still time to spare! Where do my days go? That’s what I’m on a mission to figure out. And since I usually get bored playing with my kids when I’m determined to sit with them for ½ an hour, I’ve made a list of activities to do with them. Since I always seem to get to 11:30 and have no idea what to feed them, I made a list of simple lunches. Same with snacks. I’m tired of foggy Mommy brain, and if I can’t figure out how to think straight, hopefully my lists will help. I’m also taking discipline seriously. I’ve read about 12 books on discipline this last year. I always say that the most important goal in my life is that my children grow up being taught by the Lord, with peace in their hearts (Isaiah 54:13). That is all I care about. And I feel like my attempts have given God little to work with and I am sorry for that. So this year, I am just going to put forth a little more effort than usual. I’m going in with a plan.

So 2012, here we come, full force. And when the Lord gives me a word, I’ll definitely share. His idea of my year is probably way better than mine but here is my start! I am very excited….and praying for a blessing for myself, maybe a baby, or two (…as long as He’d spare my husband a heart attack!). May God bless your year!

Listening to God's opinion...

     My body is in a despondent state here. First of all, I have been sleep training Sonora-Grace which means we all get a bit less sleep than usual with her up at night crying. Then, I have been weaning her from nursing because when she wakes up once I am capable of nursing her, but 3 and 4 times (as she can sometimes be in the habit of doing) I find myself with no milk to offer her and she screams anyway. It’s sort of painful too. Since I’m weaning her (I don’t think any men read my blog…) my body, for the first time in over 2 years, is starting to ovulate again. I cried yesterday when something I had put in my cart on amazon got sold before I purchased it. Hormones are out the roof at this point. Then, I’m sick. Although I have been swallowing vitamins like my life depends on it, and snorting expired Zicam on the off chance that prolonged shelf life isn’t going to poison me and may prevent sickness, I am still sick. And it’s worse than the average cold. My throat hurts, my whole body is shaky, and I’m not hungry. I’m nauseous. I’m tired but I can’t sleep. So last night, although I’d been waiting all day to go to sleep, I couldn’t get my body to doze off so I woke up to read and drink some warm milk and take a couple tablespoons of honey. And some ibuprofen. Then back to bed before Sonora woke up to start her several-times-a-night scream fest where we lay her down every 15-20 minutes while she arches her back so much and locks her body in that position it’s almost impossible TO lay her down. She screams, “No! NO!” at me, and continues to wail like I’m trying to kill her. I don’t remember it being this difficult with the son. I came to the decision to do this after I was crying a couple nights ago, burning from being empty of milk while she was still nursing hard. Throbbing pain from her teeth going into me trying to persuade more milk. I thought, this cannot be God’s will for me. Major ouch. So where was I? Oh yes, now I am pitiful, and sick. Grateful for a small dog to cuddle under my chin because there is nothing better than being cuddled when everything inside you feels like the word “yuck.” But once more, I can’t sleep. We have a big Christmas party to attend tonight and I’ve been looking forward to the occasion for weeks. I plan on getting very drunk tonight. On cold medicine. I’m not letting this sickness get me down!

     So anyway, onto other things. Like why I actually decided to leave my sleepless nap and pick up the laptop. I was thinking about something this morning. I’m not going to lie. The epiphany was derived from Francine Rivers not really anything I came up with on my own. My Mom sent me Francine’s novella on Mary called “Unafraid.” Oh, so good. I’m not finished yet but she really brings the story to life. One of the portions that stood out to me was the actual birth. I never really stopped to consider that there were more than angels frequenting the blessed occasion, but satan himself. Of course, Jesus was his worst nightmare! So anyway, this is veering off a bit from where I wanted to go with this. Francine (yes, we are on a first name basis now) talks about Mary a lot, developing her character. She was an average kind-a-girl, who loved God. She wanted to please Him. That was her redeeming quality, among others. But when the angel came to visit her and tell her of God’s plan, immediately she heard from darkness. “Why would God choose you? You really think you are so worthy?”

     After reading a good portion of the book, I was thinking about that nasty enemy. How he wants us to admit to ourselves who we really are. When the darkness whispers to us, it may mention its opinion of us, but ultimately it asks who we think we are. What do you think of yourself? The devil can make a lot of leeway with a statement like that because it’s easy to agree with something negative or his evil plans for our circumstance. Something degrading about ourselves, it’s probably something the devil planted himself anyway. Often times God's truth can appear contradictory to where we are at.  Especially when it comes to His opinion of us, we may find ourselves thinking, "Why does God love me?"  But nothing in the world can change the fact that He does. 

So that got me thinking about God and how He speaks. When it pertains to our identity I think He’s more concerned with telling us who we are, not asking.
Maybe conviction will come in the form of a question, like God asked Adam and Eve, “who told you that you were naked?” (I’m sure God knew the answer to that one)

That’s the other thing, God doesn’t have to ask questions. He already knows everything. God tells us who we are. Oh, such sweet things He has to say.

Anyway, maybe my theology is off on this one. Maybe I can do research when I’m not seeing spots, and dozing off. Just wanted to share my epiphany. And I can assure you the cold medicine had worn off by this point so I do not think it was induced by an altered perception. If that helps.

My point: next time the enemy comes up and asks you who you are, don’t tell him what you think, or how you feel, or even what he thinks about you…tap into what God has to say, and sit in that place, and don’t turn away.

Bad guys, good guys, in between guys, and the Hero...

So it happened, Comcast officially came through Tuolumne City and after 2 ½ years of being starved of the outside world we raced, no, desperately dashed to Xfinity to sign up. I’m not sure if that makes me totally awesome; I survived nearly 3 years with no internet access at home!  Or maybe I’m just incredibly taken over by technology that yes, we all did happy dances when the Comcast guy showed up. So one of the things that I greatly looked forward to was listening to IHOP live stream. I’ve been so blessed by this ministry and yet I rarely get to partake! But now, that all changes.

Yesterday I had been listening and praying along. I learn a lot by process of imitation, I hope it’s ok if I admit that. But I was loving it, loving the time with God and the heart of the intercessors in KC. “It’s a good time to be young.” Maybe it was me, maybe it was God but the message resonated in my heart. The worship leader was so young. He was hard after the heart of God, crying out to Him for salvation for the lost, redemption for his city, justice for our world, and encounter with the living God. I am excited about the future. I get to be a part of what God is doing and that is very cool.

So in walks Jake. My kids napped 1 hour each today, so not cool. As I am writing this, Sonora Grace is startling my lap, and Jake is tucked underneath my elbow, glued to my side. I love these guys. When they are napping, I try to seize the moment with the Lord. So yesterday was such a day (today was a nap day..). Jake curled up on my lap and asked his favorite question, “What are you doing?” So I explained to him that I was praying. The prayer room was interceding for sex traffickers in Kansas City, praying for their salvation. Very cool, again, and so I joined them for my own city. But I didn’t know how to explain what that meant, not to a 3 year old. Not to someone so pure of heart, so innocent. I didn’t think that was a discussion we needed to have. So birthed, “good guys, and bad guys.” Ok, so that birthed months ago when we talked about the enemy of our souls.

**I am going to stop right here and tell you that if you are young and without kids, study your keyboard now, before you have their adorable, snotty faces engulfing the front of your screen and keyboard and you cannot see what you are doing. I am simply amazed at my skills J

Moving on. So I told Jake that we were praying for bad guys. He already knows a million analogies about Jesus. “Our hearts are dirty, Jesus came to clean them,” “Our hearts are broken, Jesus will fix them,” among others. We were praying for bad guys, that actually have the potential to be good guys if they can meet Jesus. So lets pray for their hearts. Jake said, “that Jesus will take the yuckies out?” Sure, why not. He did pretty good, considering his .2 second attention span.

So this morning, I turned on IHOP and hid in the hallway so that my kids would not delay my encounter. Toy Story 3 on volume 30 totally kills my prayer life. If Toy Story 3 is not on, blubbery, high-pitched wails of the injustice of Mommy’s movie ban kills my prayer life. So hallway is the only win. But Jake found me. He got on his hands and knees and crawled towards me. When he saw the screen he sat up and gave a sly grin, he whispered, “Are those the good guys?” Uh, yeah, they are the good guys. Good job, good memory buddy. “Where are the bad guys go?” he whispered, (like we were undercover agents or something). So I told him that Jesus was working on the bad guys. Working on the yuckies in them.

Whenever Jake starts beating up on his sister, I always see something in his eyes. Something really dangerous and distant, like he’s not rolling around in my clean laundry strangling her with a dog leash (just kidding…or am I?). And it’s not rebellion. If you have boys, you probably understand this look. I don’t even know how to describe it. He grits his teeth, poses tall, and prepares for the final blow…and then Mom stops him, Thank God…

Anyway, that look. It’s valiant. It’s courageous. It’s unbelievably unnerving for a mom to see. But I know from all of my readings that it’s something that I don’t want to suppress or snuff out. I just need to shape it a bit. I’ve been sitting him down after these moments. I take a deep breath first because I’m a girl, raised by a single mom for the early part of my life and I only have a sister. Do you know how much I can relate to battles, bloodshed, bravery, and the like? Not very much. This second Paul is giving Jake the “You can’t throw pets off of 20 foot decks, you might send them to Heaven” speech.

So in these moments I sit him down and I tell him, “You are so strong, you are tough, you are a fighter and that’s good because we have a mighty fight in front of us.” I want to acknowledge his heart in all of this because I know there has to be a reason that he feels like attacking his sister. That’s kind of the cool thing about being a Christian, I have found, is that if you’re bored with simply attending church, there is probably a reason.

The story of good guys and bad guys is not so far removed from where we sit, in the darkest of places, in safe places like church, and in my own home. I don’t want my kids to underestimate their enemy, nor the role they have to play in all of this, and especially not our great victor, Jesus. Sometimes it sounds boring. No, we can’t stick a great steel sword into the “bad guys,” after all, they are far more redeemable without being punctured with sharp war objects. Instead, let’s pray. But let’s think about what is happening in heavenly places, the victories being fought. Let’s sow our hard earned money into others and watch the mystery of reaping. I don’t understand it, do you? But it’s incredible, and it’s part of the great adventure God has fused us into. We can change history.

So my “bad guy, good guy” theology doesn’t always measure up. Because we are all “bad guys” without Christ. Every single one of us could use some of Christ’s redemptive power…some more than others. So, there are good guys and bad guys in this story. And my goal here is not for Jake to see himself as the good guy, but the bad guy who desperately needs some goodness in his life. Once we side with the good guys, we come out of hiding. No more secrets, no more shame, no more running from the haunting of our past. Finally, freedom. And then the part I want Jake to resonate with the most, your strength is needed. Your courage is needed. You can practice on your sister (a little bit), but in the end, this good side will need you to take up your sword and fight. Not against people, but the strongholds over them. And Jacob, do not fear. Be strong and Courageous. The battle is the Lords. He will be with you wherever you go.

So yes, Jacob, these mighty prayer warriors are the good guys, but were not always so. They agreed with redemption, they accepted the price paid for them, and are desperately trying to pull others in. You don’t have to live like this, you can be free. And so my theory needs some working on (too bad theology to my three year old has been reduced to ‘good guys vs. bad guys’ already…) because it’s not like I think that non-Christians are “bad people,” far from it. They are my favorite kind of people because I can sometimes look at them and see the shift that would happen in their lives if they pursued Jesus. It would shake them to the floor. It would rearrange everything. So much promise is hard to not be reckoned with. So I think I clarified what needs to be addressed here in our young kids.

We are working for the bad guys (and they are hard-at-work on us) before we are redeemed. The message of the bad guys is this: You’ll never get ahead. You are worthless. You are weak. You are pathetic. You will never be somebody! But don’t give up, keep trying, keep working for something more. And don’t forget about all of the crummy things you’ve done with your life.

Oh, to work for the good guys though, the hero of this great story. It’s almost more than I can take, than I can fathom. The message of the good guys is this: I love you. You are precious. My thoughts of you are more than the grains of sand in the ocean, in all the world. You are strong in me. You are my beloved child. If you never change, I will still love you as much as I will ever love you. You can start over, anytime. I will make old, lifeless places in your heart be reborn, and flourish with abundant life.

You can work for the good guys, you know? I just felt like someone needed to hear that, other than my 3 year old who is trying to seriously wound his sister because this story, this epic battle was written on his heart long before I fluffed a goofy analogy. Somewhere deep down we all understand that we are meant for greatness. Share this destiny with me, friend.

Whenever I get crazy, these guys seems to get me back on track:

I love them. I love the sticky kisses, the silly jokes, and the mountains of can't-be-contained energy.  Because of these things, sometimes the only way I can get anything done is to announce a movie night and plop everyone on the couch with popcorn, juice cups and a movie.  "Hurray, movie night, everyone take your seat! Oh, so much fun!" 

. 

(When Daddy realizes we are watching Toy Story for the 37489373897th time, he's like "I thought this was going to be fun?") Well, fun for some of us.

Today, Sonora was reaching for me over and over and over. Sometimes I hold her so much that my back starts to ache in places I didn't know that it could.  OUCH.  But she reaches up and looks into my eyes, and says "uh, uh, uh" and then the one word that tips the scale, "Peas, Meemee" (Yes, she calls me Meemee).  Anyway, I get so desperate for a break, I resort to a lot of this kind of stuff:

     

I call this "nonchalant parenting." I might write a book.  How to accomplish housework: A) Seat child in a seat with some sort of restraining device, B) Give child a jar of peanut butter you think to be empty, and C) Remember that peace exists more in your heart than in your circumstance!

     Today I was trying to worship and get into God’s presence. I needed it, and quick.  But I couldn’t like I wanted to. Sonora refused to go into the nursery, so I was stuck chasing her around during the service. But, oh how she loved me. She took me by the hand and lead me every where she wanted to go. She wrapped her arms around me countless times and left sloppiness on my neck as she nuzzled. When she was scared she held me closer. She wandered off a time or two, but never lost sight of where I was. Her gaze met mine and I knew and she knew that everything was just fine.

      In my frustration, I almost heard the Lord laugh at me. God, this is serious!  But this is His plan for me: Motherhood. It’s my great gift, the blessing I count most valuable in my life. And in that moment I realized that the Lord was more than willing to meet me where I was at. And as I watched Sonora’s face light up when she saw me, I realized that she had something I very much wanted, a safe place to run, a happy face beaming at her all the way, a stern boundary, a loving touch, welcomed guidance, and glorious freedom. And I asked God to give that to me, to have with Him. It’s the greatest desire of my life. To know Him completely, and to be known. So blessed this holiday season, by my great God, my Daddy.  Oh, and I'm so blessed by these precious little sheep He gave me to shepherd, humbled and blessed to have the most wonderful job in the world. 

                  

My Christmas Blog

         All of my friends have written super cute Christmas blogs as of late. I guess I haven’t jumped on board because I am not yet ready for Christmas. Of course, I love this season. I love the sights, and the smells, the music and how excited my kids are for all of the presents that are to come. Yes, that is fun. I try not to get too legalistic. I rolled over about 10 seconds before Paul and I had dozed off the other night to remind him that we have no Christmas ornaments. Our last house was fully stocked with Christmas décor and we took that for granted as we moved into a house where we’d have to supply most of our own things. I have to say, I’m grateful for the thrift stores in this area, Red Church thrift in particular. It was a one-stop-shop kinda deal. The best part was all of the handmade things that we found. Sure, there is little to no sentimental value but I am what you would call a sucker for things that have been crafted by hand. I didn’t make the ornaments (who has time for that?), but I imagine some precious old lady rocking in front of a fireplace knitting a miniature stocking thinking, “if only I had grandchildren…I guess I could donate it?” 
     Or better yet, a family that enjoyed Grandma’s knick knacks for many years, but just couldn’t fit it on the tree anymore, what, with all of the handmade ornaments they make with their children? 

         I tried to paint with my kids the other day and we just ended up covered in red and green. Along with my table. I didn’t have newspapers so we spread out a bunch of those cream colored folders that continuously build up in my junk drawers. It wasn’t enough to keep Jake from dying my table. Yes, welcome to my life. I could probably hover over the various spots and scratch them off with a butter knife, but once again, who has time for that? No, I’m tackling the spots one by one with my fingernail while I eat dinner. Multi-tasking at it’s best. I have a friend who can make dinner, talk on the phone, and breastfeed at the same time so I really don’t deserve a trophy or anything. 

Aren’t you grateful for my Christmas post? I’ve done nothing to prepare for my favorite season. Just last night Paul asked for cookies. “Don’t you want to make some for me?” Ugh. No, I don’t feel like baking. You see, the power being out for the first 3 days of December didn’t help. The power being out kind of feels like 3 Saturdays in a row.

The first Saturday is like, “HURRAY! I don’t have to do anything and I’m not being lazy!”

The second Saturday is like, “There is a lot to do today…but I really don’t want to do anything.”

The Third Saturday is like, “I am so incredibly, annoyingly unproductive. I’ve done nothing in three days. If I do not accomplish something I will explode. Who wants to go to Wal-mart?”

Yes, annoyingly.

I’m stuck in lazy world. Thanks to the power outage the dishes piled up, laundry piled up, and all of the homemade Christmas presents I’ve lined up for myself to complete piled up as well. Not to mention, I’ve decided I want to paint something for a certain family member and my goal is something like what Thomas Kinkade creates. I now own canvases, paintbrushes, and various acrylics and that makes me an artist. Apparently. I realize I am much too ambitious for my self-esteem to handle, but I want to do this. And I want to finish my homemade Christmas projects even though when I actually did the math I realized I could buy someone two of what I’m making for them for what it is costing to buy the materials. Hey, and that’s not including the hundreds of years it is going to take me to complete this. But at least I’ll have Christmas presents for everyone when I’m 124 years old and do not feel like sewing.

But that’s ok. I think it is ok that the consumer in me hates this holiday. Because this holiday has been corrupted by consumerism and I want to keep that part of me suppressed.  I do happen to be making my own Christmas list, full of parenting books, prayer books, rubber stamps, a cutting board, and cardstock (Ok ladies, you didn't tell me that card making is the most expensive hobby in the world!), and other things to fill up the little time I get to do what I want to do. But that's the fun part about about Christmas, it's a time of the year set aside to do things for others.  Especially creative things. That's the real reason that I love this season!  So bring on the Christmas music, the ghost stories (I’m just kidding, who does that?), and an extra dose of Jesus. That is all I want for myself and my family. And for goodness sakes, some heavenly peace. That will do just fine.