Have you ever thought about what you would do if you were faced with a perilous situation?
I have.
I'm a planner.
I've got a plan for every scenario you can think of. Worried you'll fall off a cliff, I've got you covered. Worried about swine flu, come and see me. Worried about a drunk driver, um...I'm not so sure about this one...wait...
It's dark and I'm on the phone with Mason's mom as I drive to pick up Clare after I've been at an evening baseball game (with only a yummy diet coke as my refreshment). I've just turned into their neighborhood, down their road, and I am literally a couple of hundred yards away from their house. As I crest a small hill, I notice an SUV driving in my direction at an extremely fast pace considering they're about to come to a stop sign. I also happen to notice that something is very wrong. Without much more thinking, I realize they're in my lane and not just a little bit. This SUV was barreling bright lights and all toward me in my lane with no sign of adjusting course. Frankly, I couldn't really process what was happening. I lay on the horn and scream, but they don't move at all. Of course all of this is happening very quickly, but my mind was in slow motion. I instinctively try to get as far to the right as I can to avoid the direct impact, but I happen to be in a spot where there is nowhere to go so I just try to stop and continue to blow the horn and scream as this car drives straight toward me. As their headlights get closer, I brace my arm against the steering wheel and head against the headrest and think to myself, "well, this car better be as good as they say it is." In what seems like the last possible instant, they swerve and continuing racing toward the end of the road. Not a brake light. Nothing. I realize I'm still on the phone and I've scared Mason's mom because I'm laying on the horn and screaming. I hang up, come to a complete stop, and pull myself together because I'm stunned and shaking violently. You know what sucks? I had to put my baby into that car a moment later and take her back down that road knowing that the car and it's driver were still out there.
I write all of this as a reminder because I didn't say good-bye to one person before I left to go pick up Clare. I didn't kiss Mason on the cheek or anything. I thought I was coming right back. Kiss your babies, hug your husband and your friends, and make sure everyone you know is aware of how much you love them. Maybe I'm being overly dramatic, but I feel like I've been given a real second chance...an event that should have gone poorly for me that didn't and I know what a gift I received in that moment.
Happy (Early) Birthday To Me!
What I meant was...
I'm sitting on the couch with my birthday princess crown upon my head, telling princess stories about how amazing my hair is and how wonderful the world is because I believe in puppies and stars and world peace. All of this is a very elaborate and melodramatic tale that I am weaving (in jest), but Clare is all eyes and ears. Suddenly, to my right, the peanut gallery in the chair (a.k.a. Daddy) groans out the word 'Baaarrrrfff' as he rolls his eyes. At that moment, Clare looks at me with wide eyes and excitedly belts out,
'BARF!'
We just died laughing - her comedic timing is perfection for an "almost" three year old. Even better (as I gasped for air), she started oinking like a pig and barking like a dog and mooing like a cow. She'd missed the adult reference and thought Daddy was making animal noises.
Misperception is so much funnier than reality.
'BARF!'
We just died laughing - her comedic timing is perfection for an "almost" three year old. Even better (as I gasped for air), she started oinking like a pig and barking like a dog and mooing like a cow. She'd missed the adult reference and thought Daddy was making animal noises.
Misperception is so much funnier than reality.
Am I your armpit God?
I have to let y’all in on a little secret regarding all of these wonderful dreams about ministry and helping children and wanting so desperately to put my faith into action…well…I keep running into brick walls. When I say running into brick walls, I mean slamming full force into something that stops me cold and I can't find a way around it. It’s not that I’m necessarily frustrated with God, but I’m frustrated with the process I guess. I’m missing the point of burdening a heart and spurring action only to continue to close door after door after door after door after door after door. Do you realize that I’m still at square? SQUARE ONE! It’s like some bad rerun of Groundhog Day and I’m Billy Murray’s trying to settle into the knowledge that I’m never (ever) going to move beyond square one until some nebulous stopping point that I have no control over and no idea of when (or if) it will materialize. (if you're counting, that is four different analogies that I've used in one paragraph for the same feeling: walls, doors, squares and a movie reference for good measure...I know, you're all jealous, it's a gift)
I’ve started to blame myself. Maybe I’m not listening. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe I'm not praying the right words or for the right things. Maybe I'm not good enough. Maybe I’m not the kind of Christian who was ever meant to do anything much less with children. Maybe I was wrong to begin with and all of this was some elaborate need to be needed. You know, Mason said it best when he mentioned that someone has to be the armpit in the body of Christ. Maybe I'm the armpit, I guess someone has to be. Maybe I just don't like that I'm the arm pit. I just don't know. I get frustrated because another day passing without doing something is another child without a voice in a situation that they might need rescuing. It’s another day of waiting from him or her, too. But maybe armpits, maybe they don't do these kinds of things. Maybe they just connect the arm to the body and, like it or not, that's what they do. Lael "The Armpit". It's not really all that catchy.
Is my faith is big enough to support my failure to act in my past and the disappointment of feeling unable to act in my future? Last night I wondered if I was strong enough. This morning, armpit or not, I knew I wasn’t strong enough and reached out to the One I know who is.
As always, and in his infinite wisdom, he answered me the way he always does with his mysterious mercy at my child like tantrums and indignant attitude. He is God, after all. I don't have much right to make blind accusations and demand explanations (however, I do - A LOT). So...I opened my daily devotional and it dealt with this very thing and how God builds our faith through waiting (are you kidding with me?). That what may look like a “no” might be a “not yet”. He reminded me that Noah waited 120 years for God’s plan to be put into action. Abraham was promised fatherhood with his barren wife and had to wait until he was 99 to experience that promise. Moses…he waited around 40 years in a desert with a bunch of people complaining. The list goes on and on, but the one example that caught me off guard is that He even made his precious son wait for 30 years before it was time for him to act in accordance with His ultimate plan (30 years??? Oh my gosh, please don't make me wait so long. You didn't create me with much patience... you know this... so obviously I am oh so your fault God).
Why do we wait? It teaches us to trust in God. We learn that His timing is perfect.
One of the facts we have to learn is this: God's delay never destroys His purpose.
A delay is not a denial. Children must learn the difference between "no" and "not yet,"
and so must we. Many times we think God is saying, "No," but He is saying, "Not yet."
So, if you happen to be struggling with a ‘No’, then maybe it’s a ‘Not Yet’. Maybe today this will help you keep going when you’re ready to stop because “what’s the point of all of this, God doesn’t hear me anyway”. Maybe (just maybe) today will be your, ‘YES! Today is the Day! You've been heard, you get it, you see it, it’s finally here!’
If it isn’t, that’s ok. Tomorrow will find us all soon enough (armpits and all).
I’ve started to blame myself. Maybe I’m not listening. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe I'm not praying the right words or for the right things. Maybe I'm not good enough. Maybe I’m not the kind of Christian who was ever meant to do anything much less with children. Maybe I was wrong to begin with and all of this was some elaborate need to be needed. You know, Mason said it best when he mentioned that someone has to be the armpit in the body of Christ. Maybe I'm the armpit, I guess someone has to be. Maybe I just don't like that I'm the arm pit. I just don't know. I get frustrated because another day passing without doing something is another child without a voice in a situation that they might need rescuing. It’s another day of waiting from him or her, too. But maybe armpits, maybe they don't do these kinds of things. Maybe they just connect the arm to the body and, like it or not, that's what they do. Lael "The Armpit". It's not really all that catchy.
Is my faith is big enough to support my failure to act in my past and the disappointment of feeling unable to act in my future? Last night I wondered if I was strong enough. This morning, armpit or not, I knew I wasn’t strong enough and reached out to the One I know who is.
As always, and in his infinite wisdom, he answered me the way he always does with his mysterious mercy at my child like tantrums and indignant attitude. He is God, after all. I don't have much right to make blind accusations and demand explanations (however, I do - A LOT). So...I opened my daily devotional and it dealt with this very thing and how God builds our faith through waiting (are you kidding with me?). That what may look like a “no” might be a “not yet”. He reminded me that Noah waited 120 years for God’s plan to be put into action. Abraham was promised fatherhood with his barren wife and had to wait until he was 99 to experience that promise. Moses…he waited around 40 years in a desert with a bunch of people complaining. The list goes on and on, but the one example that caught me off guard is that He even made his precious son wait for 30 years before it was time for him to act in accordance with His ultimate plan (30 years??? Oh my gosh, please don't make me wait so long. You didn't create me with much patience... you know this... so obviously I am oh so your fault God).
Why do we wait? It teaches us to trust in God. We learn that His timing is perfect.
One of the facts we have to learn is this: God's delay never destroys His purpose.
A delay is not a denial. Children must learn the difference between "no" and "not yet,"
and so must we. Many times we think God is saying, "No," but He is saying, "Not yet."
So, if you happen to be struggling with a ‘No’, then maybe it’s a ‘Not Yet’. Maybe today this will help you keep going when you’re ready to stop because “what’s the point of all of this, God doesn’t hear me anyway”. Maybe (just maybe) today will be your, ‘YES! Today is the Day! You've been heard, you get it, you see it, it’s finally here!’
If it isn’t, that’s ok. Tomorrow will find us all soon enough (armpits and all).
Safety First
Mason got me a Volvo! For the safety features, of course. It was all about the box of safety... I mean really, you know you've done something right when your insurance agent gets noticeably excited on the phone when you tell him what car you're buying. Jeez, you don't think we did it for the tight turning radius, heated seats and sporty feel of a luxury car do you? I mean plueezz...this thing has practical written all over it. Did I mention the heated seats? Yes, oh...sorry. That's just part of the safety of the vehicle, warm drivers are safer didn't you know? So, it actually does make me feel safer and it has the intoxicating new car smell (stupid plastic). I know I should be ashamed that I'm this excited about a thing. I'll let you know if and when my shame sinks in. Until then, I will imagine that I am safer and be parking at the back of the parking lot.
Adjö´ så lä´nge! (loosely translates to later gator in Swedish)
4th of July holiday weekend
- Relax all day getting ready for fireworks - check
- Buy fireworks at very sketchy, fully redneck fireworks store - check
- Throw Snap dragons at each other in the street - check
- Pick over BBQ ribs waiting for it to get dark enough to light fireworks - check
- Set off practice firework in the backyard - check
- Watch daughter burst into a million tears, scream bloody murder, and run as fast as her precious little legs would work as said firework blasts off into the air (do not laugh no matter what) - check
- Beg daughter for half an hour into coming out from under her blanket to watch the $50 worth of fireworks that we are going to watch no matter what kind of emotional trauma we inflict - check
- Convince daughter to come out of hiding by moving the chair from the back yard to the front yard, bringing a magic wand and making fireworks "happen" with said magic wand and lalala's - check
- Hop into the car (unexpectedly) to catch Thunder on the Mountain that starts in 20 minutes (everyone has shoes right?) - check
- Get a premium seat on the ridge in Vestavia just in time to see an amazing display of fireworks for 15 - 20 minutes (why do I have a beach towel in the car? Thank goodness that I have a beach towel in the car) - check
- Carry a smiling, sweaty little girl back to the car to fall asleep and dream about fireworks - check
- Fall asleep to the sounds of rogue fireworks in the neighborhood - check
I'm melting, I'm melting
So, it turns out, being a "stay-at-home-after-work mom" is wonderful! Absolutely Wonderful! Since the last little breakdown I suffered when taking Clare out too late and to too many events, we've remained local. By local, I mean, we are at home...every...single....night. The only exceptions are for very short jaunts, usually on the weekends, and they're highly scripted with defined start and end times. We do not run random errands with our little pea pod, we do not go to the galleria, we do not do anything on the week nights except play at home...together...as a family. I thought this would be like the seventh realm of hell for me since I'm stuck at a desk all day every day and really like to get out and see the world, but it turns out that it's fun - super fun. We play pretend, discover the outside world around us, talk about her day and what we're doing, giggle, laugh, make things for daddy, cook in her kitchen, and she's finally named all of her dolls and stuffed animals. She even sleeps through the night better. I can't tell you what a sense of gratitude I have for this little period of awakening where we all realized it was time for a change and then clearly changed any offending behaviors.
It's not like we weren't doing these things before, it's just that it wasn't every night and on the scale that we committed to two weeks ago. There wasn't the comfort of a normal schedule before, but there is one now. Feelings of comfort and safety are manifesting themselves into happiness. Her happiness is obvious because her tantrums have all but disappeared. Her relationship with us is like night and day. She was even ready to go when it was time to leave Mason's parents house yesterday after she'd played with them all day (this is usually a HUGE ordeal where she doesn't want to leave and then she literally and figuratively spits at us for the next 24 to 48 hours...bet you can imagine how fun that was). This didn't happen last night! She was just ready to go?!?
Being a parent is the single most challenging thing in the world to me. Not because it's at all hard to love your child, but for me, I can't just be on auto-pilot and actually enjoy it like I was trying to do. I have to be involved, present, and interested in making changes that I sometimes push back against thinking I know what's best. I think I'm more amazed each day with how much Clare teaches me about how to live than vice-versa. Her way of living is so pure and so free from entanglement that's it's like magic when I inch back into that kind of simplicity.
I'm thinking blankets, mason jars, fireflies, and stories are a good plan for tonight? What about you?
It's not like we weren't doing these things before, it's just that it wasn't every night and on the scale that we committed to two weeks ago. There wasn't the comfort of a normal schedule before, but there is one now. Feelings of comfort and safety are manifesting themselves into happiness. Her happiness is obvious because her tantrums have all but disappeared. Her relationship with us is like night and day. She was even ready to go when it was time to leave Mason's parents house yesterday after she'd played with them all day (this is usually a HUGE ordeal where she doesn't want to leave and then she literally and figuratively spits at us for the next 24 to 48 hours...bet you can imagine how fun that was). This didn't happen last night! She was just ready to go?!?
Being a parent is the single most challenging thing in the world to me. Not because it's at all hard to love your child, but for me, I can't just be on auto-pilot and actually enjoy it like I was trying to do. I have to be involved, present, and interested in making changes that I sometimes push back against thinking I know what's best. I think I'm more amazed each day with how much Clare teaches me about how to live than vice-versa. Her way of living is so pure and so free from entanglement that's it's like magic when I inch back into that kind of simplicity.
I'm thinking blankets, mason jars, fireflies, and stories are a good plan for tonight? What about you?
Will you do me a favor?
Go here:
http://www.gvephotography.com/blog/the-2nd-anniversary-with-a-contest/
Vote for my precious girl (she's #5).
Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeee :)
Oh, and if you live in the Birmingham area and you need family portraits, seriously, you should call Grethel. She was amazing.
http://www.gvephotography.com/blog/the-2nd-anniversary-with-a-contest/
Vote for my precious girl (she's #5).
Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeee :)
Oh, and if you live in the Birmingham area and you need family portraits, seriously, you should call Grethel. She was amazing.
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