I had an epiphany tonight as I walked into my tiny kitchen to stir my dinner of bean and bacon soup. I stepped over my husband's legs and my son's toys as Pinners whimpered after me.
And I thought, simply, 'Life is good'. I picked up the spoon, stirred, and smiled into the wall as I had a sense of overflowing joy for the blessings in my life. Such an average night; such a random moment; such a wondrous realization.
This realization hit me at a place where I have been worried about the future and its unknown murkiness.
Suddenly, like an actual lightbulb sparking above my head, it hit me that God is the One gracious enough to bring me to this place of contentment, joy, life.
Will He not continue to care for us and lavish us with love and good things?
It may not be the way that I suspect or would choose for it to go, but it will be good.
If only because He goes with me.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Christmas Recovery
As a self-proclaimed holiday lover, is it okay to say, here at the end of the season................phew!?
This has been a wonderful Thanksgiving/Christmas/holiday conglomeration. But it feels like life has been in super-powered Flash speed (that one is for you, Matt!) since mid-November. Some favorite moments from the past few weeks include (but are not limited to):
This has been a wonderful Thanksgiving/Christmas/holiday conglomeration. But it feels like life has been in super-powered Flash speed (that one is for you, Matt!) since mid-November. Some favorite moments from the past few weeks include (but are not limited to):
* Watching this:
* Picking out the 2011 family tree:
* Getting an 'A' in Appraisal
* More time to sing with that bearded guy on the right:
* Christmas Eve dinner at Rentschler's with Missy and Bruce
* Jake's Pizza with the Fjerkenstads.....even if we couldn't eat it there!
* Laughing through Dutch Blitz with Matt, Ann and Nate
With all of these amazing memories, it is hard to admit that I am glad that it is all over. But as I sit here with the Christmas tree lit up for one of the last times, with my husband on the couch beside me; with Pizza Hut in my belly and having finally had time to watch "Crazy, Stupid, Love", which I have been wanting to see for months, I can honestly say PHEW!
We are blessed that Matt has the next week off. With the past few months of Matt filling in as interim worship leader, our quality time has been dwindled. That hasn't been easy for this quality time love language girl. But having the next few days stretch before us blissfully unscheduled (for the most part), is a gift of great value - greater than any Christmas gift received this year for certain.
And as this year inches towards its conclusion and a new one dawns, it is humbling and exciting and a bit terrifying to admit that I have no idea what it will hold.
But some things will be definite in the coming year: there are decisions to be made and prayers to be prayed. There are hugs and kisses to give and apologies to be made. There are trials to enjoy and joys to savor. There are literally thousands of reasons to be thankful.
This past year has been one of the most amazing of my entire life.
I can't wait to see what lies on the horizon of this new year!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Stair Climbing
Over the past few weeks, we have been spending a lot of extra time at my mom and step-dad's house. First Kiki and Matt and their boys came, then Josh and Taty; now Missy and Bruce have arrived in town. Let me just say that I love my mom's house. It is home; my mom has this uncanny ability to make any place that she is "home". It didn't matter how many times we got moved from house to house - even up to Alaska - wherever my mom was was home. My mom is an exceptional home-maker.
With that being said, watching my curious, energetic boy at my mom's house has become a genuine workout. He's into everything and just wants to be free to explore. Last night, Missy was watching him for a few minutes and came upstairs to where my mom and I were, plopped down and said, "I'm exhausted!"
Of course, Finn's favorite thing to do at my mom and step-dad's house is to go up and down the stairs. They have two separate staircases, so when he gets tired of one he moves on to the next.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
And so whoever is on Finn duty obligingly trudges up and down with him.
Last night, it was my honor. He has recently learned how to scoot himself down the stairs, so that is his new fascination.
As his spotter, I never took my eyes of Finn, lest I do and he slips at that moment.
I let Finn explore and have fun with his trips up and down the stairs, but I do stay right near him, within arm's distance, and stand between him and a serious tumble. True, Finn is only 1 year old so there are times when he gets distracted and loses his focus and slips. But then my arm is there to steady him; and rather than facing a terrible end at the bottom of the stairs, he may come away with a carpet scrape, but wholly intact and healthy.
As I stood there spotting him and thinking of these things (yes, these thoughts really swarm around in my head), it became a clear picture to me of how God takes care of me. When I slip and lose my focus, God's hand is right there to steady me and get me back on track. Although I have attempted to move too fast and have made mistakes, because God stood between me and destruction, all I came away with were some scrapes and bruises. God never takes his eyes off of me, lest I should I fall.
When I help Finn down the stairs, do I allow some room for him to slip? Yes, because I want him to learn from his mistakes and correct it the next time, or the next time, or the next time.
But I do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn't seriously harm himself in the process, because I love him so much that my heart wants to explode sometimes when I just look at him.
I love him. I don't want him to get hurt but I do want him to learn. And that is why I am right there to help him, to catch him.
Psalm 94:18 "When I said, 'My foot is slipping', your love, O Lord, supported me."
1 Peter 5:7 "Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you." (MSG)
With that being said, watching my curious, energetic boy at my mom's house has become a genuine workout. He's into everything and just wants to be free to explore. Last night, Missy was watching him for a few minutes and came upstairs to where my mom and I were, plopped down and said, "I'm exhausted!"
Of course, Finn's favorite thing to do at my mom and step-dad's house is to go up and down the stairs. They have two separate staircases, so when he gets tired of one he moves on to the next.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
And so whoever is on Finn duty obligingly trudges up and down with him.
Last night, it was my honor. He has recently learned how to scoot himself down the stairs, so that is his new fascination.
As his spotter, I never took my eyes of Finn, lest I do and he slips at that moment.
I let Finn explore and have fun with his trips up and down the stairs, but I do stay right near him, within arm's distance, and stand between him and a serious tumble. True, Finn is only 1 year old so there are times when he gets distracted and loses his focus and slips. But then my arm is there to steady him; and rather than facing a terrible end at the bottom of the stairs, he may come away with a carpet scrape, but wholly intact and healthy.
As I stood there spotting him and thinking of these things (yes, these thoughts really swarm around in my head), it became a clear picture to me of how God takes care of me. When I slip and lose my focus, God's hand is right there to steady me and get me back on track. Although I have attempted to move too fast and have made mistakes, because God stood between me and destruction, all I came away with were some scrapes and bruises. God never takes his eyes off of me, lest I should I fall.
When I help Finn down the stairs, do I allow some room for him to slip? Yes, because I want him to learn from his mistakes and correct it the next time, or the next time, or the next time.
But I do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn't seriously harm himself in the process, because I love him so much that my heart wants to explode sometimes when I just look at him.
I love him. I don't want him to get hurt but I do want him to learn. And that is why I am right there to help him, to catch him.
Psalm 94:18 "When I said, 'My foot is slipping', your love, O Lord, supported me."
1 Peter 5:7 "Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you." (MSG)
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
More
This post is very personal for me and not always easy to talk about. I think that is because I still feel some shame when I look back at this time in my life.
With that said...
A couple of years ago, I was going through a very hard time. Without delving into too many specifics, it had to do with sleep - or lack thereof. Here is a little about that journey: https://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=96024931778.
This trial, which started so small, quickly spiraled out of control for me. To many people, losing some sleep is not a huge deal. To me, it caused my life to get completely knocked off balance. Essentially, I walked around all day, every day with a knot in my stomach, a burden on my shoulders, and a literal anxious pain in my heart. Though there were times of brief reprieve, it was fairly continuous for months and months. I look back at pictures from that time and I can still see a vacant expression on my face because most likely when the picture was taken, I was thinking about whether or not I would sleep well that night.
It was one of the toughest times that I have personally gone through and I think that one of the things that made it so difficult was that I felt all alone in it. Matt was a wonderful support during this time, often just holding me when the anxiety became too much for me, but the anxiety remained all mine to deal with.
There were brief conversations of putting me on meds to help me deal with my anxiety or sleeping pills to make sure that I slept.
None of these things seemed like the answer to me. I don't denounce the help that these things can bring, but to me it just seemed like I would be digging myself a bigger and bigger hole. I chose not to pursue those avenues and clung to God, His love, and His promise to take care of my needs. Even when it seemed as though my prayers were being met with silence, I had to keep trusting that God loved me and had good plans for me.
But the journey out of that space was long and tough. There were many times that I didn't think it would ever end. There were moments when I felt like it took everything in me to clutch tightly to God and my belief in His goodness. And at those moments, there was one song in particular that would come to my mind. It was an old song that I remember singing in church when I was younger and it is amazingly simple:
"I need You more, more than yesterday.
I need You more, more than words can say.
I need You more than ever before.
I need You Lord, I need You Lord.
More than the air I breathe, more than the song I sing,
More than the next heartbeat, more than anything.
And Lord, as time goes by I will be by Your side.
Because I never want to go back to my old life."
I would be driving in my car and trying to find the words to pray but they wouldn't come. My mind was circling the toilet of anxious thoughts, but this song would still break through. In the very deepest part of my being, beneath the layers of anxiety that just seemed to be getter thicker with each day, I knew that all I really needed was more of Jesus. Meds and sleeping pills were not the answer for me. For me, I needed more and more and more and more of Him who holds my very life in His hands.
Indeed, there are times when no words are sufficient and no human support is steady or sturdy enough. But if we can find an iota of strength to call out for more, more, more of Jesus, then the dark times cannot last forever.
Pretty, flowery prayers are all well and good. But sometimes, all God needs to hear is that we want more of Him.
Sometimes, one word is enough. More.
We are going to be singing this song again in church soon, and my prayer is that its simplicity would be a reminder of all that really matters in the chaos and confusion of this broken world.
From the other side of a life-changing trial, I say with all certainty that there is power and hope in the name of Jesus. Getting more and more and more of Him is all that saved me from a life of constant anxiety. Getting more and more and more of Him is the hope that I have for the future.
And the honest truth is I still don't sleep perfectly every night. But because I know God deeper than I did before, it is 9 gazillion times easier for me to relax and rest in His care of me.
In any trial or confusion, the answer is always more of Jesus.
With that said...
A couple of years ago, I was going through a very hard time. Without delving into too many specifics, it had to do with sleep - or lack thereof. Here is a little about that journey: https://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=96024931778.
This trial, which started so small, quickly spiraled out of control for me. To many people, losing some sleep is not a huge deal. To me, it caused my life to get completely knocked off balance. Essentially, I walked around all day, every day with a knot in my stomach, a burden on my shoulders, and a literal anxious pain in my heart. Though there were times of brief reprieve, it was fairly continuous for months and months. I look back at pictures from that time and I can still see a vacant expression on my face because most likely when the picture was taken, I was thinking about whether or not I would sleep well that night.
It was one of the toughest times that I have personally gone through and I think that one of the things that made it so difficult was that I felt all alone in it. Matt was a wonderful support during this time, often just holding me when the anxiety became too much for me, but the anxiety remained all mine to deal with.
There were brief conversations of putting me on meds to help me deal with my anxiety or sleeping pills to make sure that I slept.
None of these things seemed like the answer to me. I don't denounce the help that these things can bring, but to me it just seemed like I would be digging myself a bigger and bigger hole. I chose not to pursue those avenues and clung to God, His love, and His promise to take care of my needs. Even when it seemed as though my prayers were being met with silence, I had to keep trusting that God loved me and had good plans for me.
But the journey out of that space was long and tough. There were many times that I didn't think it would ever end. There were moments when I felt like it took everything in me to clutch tightly to God and my belief in His goodness. And at those moments, there was one song in particular that would come to my mind. It was an old song that I remember singing in church when I was younger and it is amazingly simple:
"I need You more, more than yesterday.
I need You more, more than words can say.
I need You more than ever before.
I need You Lord, I need You Lord.
More than the air I breathe, more than the song I sing,
More than the next heartbeat, more than anything.
And Lord, as time goes by I will be by Your side.
Because I never want to go back to my old life."
I would be driving in my car and trying to find the words to pray but they wouldn't come. My mind was circling the toilet of anxious thoughts, but this song would still break through. In the very deepest part of my being, beneath the layers of anxiety that just seemed to be getter thicker with each day, I knew that all I really needed was more of Jesus. Meds and sleeping pills were not the answer for me. For me, I needed more and more and more and more of Him who holds my very life in His hands.
Indeed, there are times when no words are sufficient and no human support is steady or sturdy enough. But if we can find an iota of strength to call out for more, more, more of Jesus, then the dark times cannot last forever.
Pretty, flowery prayers are all well and good. But sometimes, all God needs to hear is that we want more of Him.
Sometimes, one word is enough. More.
We are going to be singing this song again in church soon, and my prayer is that its simplicity would be a reminder of all that really matters in the chaos and confusion of this broken world.
From the other side of a life-changing trial, I say with all certainty that there is power and hope in the name of Jesus. Getting more and more and more of Him is all that saved me from a life of constant anxiety. Getting more and more and more of Him is the hope that I have for the future.
And the honest truth is I still don't sleep perfectly every night. But because I know God deeper than I did before, it is 9 gazillion times easier for me to relax and rest in His care of me.
In any trial or confusion, the answer is always more of Jesus.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Whirlijigs: M&G Part Three
The week following our first date was an absolute blur. There were phone conversations that lasted for a couple hours each and our second date of randomness that included a Starbucks surprise, youth group crashing, Best Buy shenanigans, and most random of all: these photos.
Besides walking around with perpetual butterflies in my stomach - otherwise known as "whirlijigs" in my family - I had an inner feeling of peace through the whirlwind of romance that was sweeping me away. Every time I would start to get overwhelmed by it all, I would remember what I had felt that day of our first date: "Just relax and enjoy the journey."
The third date was indeed momentous. I invited Matt to my company Christmas party, which we subsequently skipped out of early. Who wants to watch a hypnotist when there are better things to do? For example, this was the evening that he asked me to officially become his girlfriend. One of many questions that he has asked that I have responded to with "Yes".
About two weeks after our first date, I had fallen asleep on the couch while watching "It's a Wonderful Life" as Matt wrapped Christmas gifts (Matt takes hours to wrap gifts). All of a sudden, I was awakened by a kiss and Matt telling me that he loved me. I responded in kind, and I remember being a little nervous to tell my mom this big news as I knew that logically we were moving pretty stinking fast. But all my mom said is, "I knew when it happened that it would happen quickly."
The first time that Matt hung out with my siblings, we annihilated them in a game of Scene-It. Afterwards, my sister Kiki mentioned, "It just feels as though he has always been a part of our family."
And that summed up our relationship. Matt fit into my life like a lost puzzle piece. We didn't have to be wedged together forcefully or go to extreme measures to fit each other into our lives. We just fit. Suddenly years of waiting made sense. From the very beginning of our relationship, we spoke of getting married because we just knew. Matt used to say that if he didn't meet the right person by the time he turned 30, he was going to move to Alaska. So......phew. We met before he turned 30!
The next year unfolded beautifully with a series of firsts for us:
Our first Valentine's Day consisted of pizza, gifts (a song written for me!), an excellent movie, and this:
?
Our first big fight occurred when we decided to have a game night. Six games, one loser, one winner and loser buys the winner dinner. Jenga: Matt won. Yahtzee: Matt won. Mario Kart: Matt won. Wii bowling: Matt won. Guitar Hero: Matt won. 3-point contest: Matt won. The 3-point contest is when things started to fall apart for me. After an evening of insufferable defeat, I was counting on winning this one, as last time we had played I had soundly won. This night, of all nights, Matt made like 8 3-pointers in a row. He showed no mercy, and I was longing for mercy. Matt and I are both highly competitive and it had never been more evident than that night. A couple hours later, peace was restored and we knew a little bit more about each other.
His first time meeting my bestest college friends was a raging success as they all loved him - at least, that's what they told me:
Leo's forever!!! xoxo
Our engagement is chronicled is chronicled here: http://fjerkyg.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-said-yes.html so no need to ruminate once more.
We closed on our first house October 31, 2008.
Celebrating first night of home ownership
Oh yeah, and on December 20, 2008 - 1 year and 10 days after our first date - we did this:
Now as, on Tuesday, we celebrate 3 amazing years of marriage, I look back at these memories warmly and with a smile on my face. As a husband, Matt continues to impress, surprise, and honor me. He is a true gift to me - one of God's greatest blessings.
The name Matthew actually means, "God's gift", and I believe that that is what Matt is to those that he comes in contact with. He is a gift that oozes encouragement, positivity, and faith to others.
I am so very happy to call him my husband. I love my lovey shoog!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Walmart: M&G Part Two
One week after I first noticed Matt's attention toward me had changed, my sister and her boys (she only had two then) happened to be in town and came to church with me.
Obviously, I was interested to know her thoughts on the cute guy that I sang with. And her thoughts were? "You guys have GOT to stop flirting when you're on the stage."
As I was leaving church that day to go meet Kiki, Cort, and Lane for Sonic, I noticed Matt leaving right behind me. He walked behind me, talked some more, flirted some more. Then I got in my car and drove away. It was later that I found out that he was trying to get up the courage to ask for my phone number but chickened out.
Obviously, I was interested to know her thoughts on the cute guy that I sang with. And her thoughts were? "You guys have GOT to stop flirting when you're on the stage."
About a half hour later, as we were filling our bellies with Sonic, I received a text message on my phone from an unknown number which began an unconventional texting conversation. Long story short, Matt had hit up our mutual friend, Jeremy, for my phone number. Long story shorter, Matt asked me out for the next evening.
It was about this point in time that I started jumping up and down in my apartment (literally). My sweet nephews were looking at me like I was crazy!
But I didn't care. I had a date! With the cute guy from church! Ah, sweet bliss.
But I didn't care. I had a date! With the cute guy from church! Ah, sweet bliss.
For the next 29 hours or so, butterflies consumed my belly.
Since the next day was a Monday, I had to endure a day of work before our date. As I was telling my co-worker all the details of the "ask-out", I remember feeling a calmness overcome the butterflies for a moment and felt something inside me say, "Just relax and enjoy the journey".
That evening, Matt picked me up for dinner at HuHot (still our favorite). Three things I remember about that dinner: very deep conversation for a first date, wishing that noodles were easier to eat attractively, and talking about egg nog.
Talking about egg nog led to a momentous trek to Walmart. It was while we were at Walmart that everything truly clicked into place. We got away from all the seriousness of our dinner conversation and essentially became children. We raced through the parking lot, did cartwheels in the office chair aisle, and pressed all of the musical toys so they were all playing at once.
It was also at Walmart that Matt says he knew he was going to marry me. There was apparently a moment when he was telling a story as we were walking, and I turned around to walk backwards so that I could focus on him better.
It's the little things, I guess.
After Walmart, we went to Barnes and Noble to get coffee. After some conversation on the floor of the music section and a race through the store (who could be quickest to look up a word in the dictionary, of course), it was time to call it a night.
After four hours together, we knew we had something very special.
Matt walked me to my door and the last words he said to me that night were, "Be blessed! I know I was!"
And so it began.
Since the next day was a Monday, I had to endure a day of work before our date. As I was telling my co-worker all the details of the "ask-out", I remember feeling a calmness overcome the butterflies for a moment and felt something inside me say, "Just relax and enjoy the journey".
That evening, Matt picked me up for dinner at HuHot (still our favorite). Three things I remember about that dinner: very deep conversation for a first date, wishing that noodles were easier to eat attractively, and talking about egg nog.
Talking about egg nog led to a momentous trek to Walmart. It was while we were at Walmart that everything truly clicked into place. We got away from all the seriousness of our dinner conversation and essentially became children. We raced through the parking lot, did cartwheels in the office chair aisle, and pressed all of the musical toys so they were all playing at once.
It was also at Walmart that Matt says he knew he was going to marry me. There was apparently a moment when he was telling a story as we were walking, and I turned around to walk backwards so that I could focus on him better.
It's the little things, I guess.
After Walmart, we went to Barnes and Noble to get coffee. After some conversation on the floor of the music section and a race through the store (who could be quickest to look up a word in the dictionary, of course), it was time to call it a night.
After four hours together, we knew we had something very special.
Matt walked me to my door and the last words he said to me that night were, "Be blessed! I know I was!"
And so it began.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Groovy Pair?: M&G Part One
December is a month of looooooooooove. Not just because family is near and people are more generous of spirit, but because December always gets me thinking back to the beginning of me and Matt's relationship. December holds memories of our first date, first "I love you", first kiss, only wedding....
As Matt and I have been together for nearly 4 years and married for nearly 3, I thought that it would be an opportune time to share some of the details of how Matt and I made it to the matrimonial altar. Since I am a person of details with a sometimes elephant-esque memory.......this story will likely take several entries to tell!
The beginning...
In 2007, I was living in Conway, Arkansas, working as a nanny and helping out with Chi Alpha ministries. I would frequently speak on the phone with my best friend, Chanelle. It was, in fact, Chanelle who first told me about a man she knew that sang on the worship team at the new church that she and her husband were attending. She never shoved the idea of him down my throat by any means, but she would mention him every once in a while and how much she wanted me to hurry up and move back home because she wanted me to meet him. She thought we would be a groovy pair!
So move back home I eventually did. August 2007 found me moving back to Sioux Falls in order to attend graduate school at USD to get my masters in School Counseling.
My first Sunday back in Sioux Falls, I attended church with Chanelle and her family. Was my curiosity piqued about this so-called mystery man/worship leader? Yes. But I also knew several people at the church already that I was eager to see again, including my old friend, Jeremy. Jeremy and I had been friends since we met at church camp when we were 17 and 15, respectively.
Little did I know that Jeremy had been playing a bit of matchmaker as well. He and Matt had been living together for a couple of months and when he found out that I would be moving back home, he mentioned my existence to Matt and said that he thought we would be a groovy pair. Jeremy even showed Matt my MySpace page (hello, 2007!) and Matt's response? "Get her here, then!"
Alas, things were not exactly easy peasy lemon breezy from that point forward. I began attending the church where Matt helped to lead worship and yes, I thought he was cute. When I had been attending the church for a couple of weeks, the worship leader, Joe, came up to me and asked me if I sang. I told him that I did, but not amazingly. He had me "audition" for him and he pulled Matt in to sing with me. It was at this time that I found out that Matt was 2 years older than me. After having spent the last two years surrounded by college-aged guys who were younger than my college-graduated self, that was a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, my interest was piqued even further.
However, that interest was halted when I realized that Matt had a girlfriend. Unfortunately for me, he had begun dating her a few weeks before I moved back home.
For the next few months, Matt's and my interactions were fairly basic. He was very friendly (is there anyone Matt isn't friendly to?) and every once in a while we would have a conversation that would reveal just how many diverse things we had in common. I remember one conversation in particular where we were quoting movie lines and knew exactly what the other one was talking about. But for the most part, we talked about "The Office" during downtime at church and we sang together. I never once felt like Matt was flirtatious with me when he was dating the other girl.
Which was why, on December 3rd, I could actually feel that his attitude toward me changed. All of a sudden, he got his flirt on. And all of a sudden, I found myself realizing that it had been quite awhile since I had seen his girlfriend...........
As Matt and I have been together for nearly 4 years and married for nearly 3, I thought that it would be an opportune time to share some of the details of how Matt and I made it to the matrimonial altar. Since I am a person of details with a sometimes elephant-esque memory.......this story will likely take several entries to tell!
The beginning...
In 2007, I was living in Conway, Arkansas, working as a nanny and helping out with Chi Alpha ministries. I would frequently speak on the phone with my best friend, Chanelle. It was, in fact, Chanelle who first told me about a man she knew that sang on the worship team at the new church that she and her husband were attending. She never shoved the idea of him down my throat by any means, but she would mention him every once in a while and how much she wanted me to hurry up and move back home because she wanted me to meet him. She thought we would be a groovy pair!
Me and my Arkansas sistas
So move back home I eventually did. August 2007 found me moving back to Sioux Falls in order to attend graduate school at USD to get my masters in School Counseling.
My first Sunday back in Sioux Falls, I attended church with Chanelle and her family. Was my curiosity piqued about this so-called mystery man/worship leader? Yes. But I also knew several people at the church already that I was eager to see again, including my old friend, Jeremy. Jeremy and I had been friends since we met at church camp when we were 17 and 15, respectively.
Little did I know that Jeremy had been playing a bit of matchmaker as well. He and Matt had been living together for a couple of months and when he found out that I would be moving back home, he mentioned my existence to Matt and said that he thought we would be a groovy pair. Jeremy even showed Matt my MySpace page (hello, 2007!) and Matt's response? "Get her here, then!"
Matt and Jeremy bonding over Dance Dance
Alas, things were not exactly easy peasy lemon breezy from that point forward. I began attending the church where Matt helped to lead worship and yes, I thought he was cute. When I had been attending the church for a couple of weeks, the worship leader, Joe, came up to me and asked me if I sang. I told him that I did, but not amazingly. He had me "audition" for him and he pulled Matt in to sing with me. It was at this time that I found out that Matt was 2 years older than me. After having spent the last two years surrounded by college-aged guys who were younger than my college-graduated self, that was a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, my interest was piqued even further.
However, that interest was halted when I realized that Matt had a girlfriend. Unfortunately for me, he had begun dating her a few weeks before I moved back home.
For the next few months, Matt's and my interactions were fairly basic. He was very friendly (is there anyone Matt isn't friendly to?) and every once in a while we would have a conversation that would reveal just how many diverse things we had in common. I remember one conversation in particular where we were quoting movie lines and knew exactly what the other one was talking about. But for the most part, we talked about "The Office" during downtime at church and we sang together. I never once felt like Matt was flirtatious with me when he was dating the other girl.
Which was why, on December 3rd, I could actually feel that his attitude toward me changed. All of a sudden, he got his flirt on. And all of a sudden, I found myself realizing that it had been quite awhile since I had seen his girlfriend...........
Monday, November 28, 2011
Finn's Birth Story
Well, this time last year I was swollen and miserable and praying to pop at any moment. It is hard to believe that my little Pinners is almost a one year old big boy! Last night, we had a family birthday party for him. It was such a joy to gather our families together just to celebrate our sweet little entertaining boy.
In honor of his one year birthday, I thought it would be fun to write about how exactly he made his way into this world. Because those kinds of stories are fun to tell and fun to read (I enjoy them anyway :)
Last year, November 30 fell on a Tuesday. I was officially 39 1/2 weeks pregnant, swollen to the peak of skin expansion, and miserable with back aches and a general......heaviness. We had an appointment with our OB/GYN, and I was praying for progress. Any progress.
Unfortunately, no progress was reported - I was still dilated to about a 1.5 and was 70% effaced. No change from the week before. I remember calling my sister and moaning about how much I just wanted Finn to come. She gave me wonderful advice to just enjoy every moment....enjoy feeling him in my belly, enjoy the moments of just me and Matt. I took a deep breath and tried to follow her words of wisdom; I knew she was right.
That night was pretty normal for us. I fell asleep on the loveseat about 9 p.m. as had become my comfortable habit. About 20 minutes later, I was woken from my slumber by a distinct popping sensation. I ever so "gracefully" rolled off the couch and was down on all fours on our living room floor. I said to Matt, "I think my water just broke." Sure enough, seconds later there was evidential proof. No further details needed!
Immediately, Matt went into to Daddy Warp Speed. He ran from room to room of our house, collecting our hospital bags, starting the car, changing his clothes, getting me towels, calling everyone on his speed dial. While he got his exercise, I lazed around on the floor waiting for the water to stop. When it slowed a bit, I decided to take a shower. Matt thought I was crazy, but I really just felt an inner calmness. I was SO pleased that Finn was on his way and I didn't feel like there was too much of a rush.
After a few minutes, I started to feel a light contraction or two. We hopped in the car, Matt growing increasingly agitated with each red light we hit. By the time we got to the ER, I was having stronger contractions, spaced about 7 minutes apart. The Labor and Delivery nurse came to get us, and I got wheeled upstairs while Matt talked a mile a minute, entertaining us.
Here is where the story took an unexpected turn. A week before - at my 38 week appointment - my OB had checked to make sure that Finn's head was "down", that he was in proper position. She said it was. However, upon arriving at the Labor and Delivery triage, they did an ultrasound and verified that his head was actually up underneath my ribs. I had wondered why I never felt any of those notorious kicks up under my ribs and I now knew why.
Unfortunately, because my water had already broken, they couldn't attempt to turn him due to the risk of infection. Therefore, our only option was an emergency C-section. Immediately, the on-call doctor gave me the run down of what would happen and she also assured me that it was still likely that I would be able to have a natural delivery with our next child.
Within minutes, I was wheeled into the surgical room in some very fancy duds. This was probably the scariest part of the whole ordeal as I was by myself. Matt couldn't come in until after they had given me a spinal block and he was the only one that could be in the room with me during the procedure. At this time, I was still having contractions and they were beginning to get painful. This is also when they shoved a giant needle into my back. Hence, it being the scariest part.
Once they laid me down on the table, Matt entered and held my hand and opted to go no where near the surgery side of the sheet that was placed over my belly. A few moments later, we heard the blissful first cry of our sweet boy at 12:14 a.m. on December 1.
Once I was put back together again, we were wheeled into a room for the spinal block to wear off. Here is where Finn got to meet his grandmas for the first time and where I first nursed him. The room was certainly nothing spectacular, but it will always hold sweet memories.
12 hours later, after a few more nursings and some catching up on sleep, life began to slowly edge back towards normalcy. I was able to walk around, take a shower, welcome visitors, and hold my baby boy as much as possible. Those first couple of days were nothing short of beautiful.
As I sit here, nearly 12 months out, I cannot believe that a year has passed so quickly. And as I look back at pictures and how much my boy has grown, I am reminded of how necessary it is to inhabit each moment and live grateful.
In honor of his one year birthday, I thought it would be fun to write about how exactly he made his way into this world. Because those kinds of stories are fun to tell and fun to read (I enjoy them anyway :)
Last year, November 30 fell on a Tuesday. I was officially 39 1/2 weeks pregnant, swollen to the peak of skin expansion, and miserable with back aches and a general......heaviness. We had an appointment with our OB/GYN, and I was praying for progress. Any progress.
Unfortunately, no progress was reported - I was still dilated to about a 1.5 and was 70% effaced. No change from the week before. I remember calling my sister and moaning about how much I just wanted Finn to come. She gave me wonderful advice to just enjoy every moment....enjoy feeling him in my belly, enjoy the moments of just me and Matt. I took a deep breath and tried to follow her words of wisdom; I knew she was right.
That night was pretty normal for us. I fell asleep on the loveseat about 9 p.m. as had become my comfortable habit. About 20 minutes later, I was woken from my slumber by a distinct popping sensation. I ever so "gracefully" rolled off the couch and was down on all fours on our living room floor. I said to Matt, "I think my water just broke." Sure enough, seconds later there was evidential proof. No further details needed!
Immediately, Matt went into to Daddy Warp Speed. He ran from room to room of our house, collecting our hospital bags, starting the car, changing his clothes, getting me towels, calling everyone on his speed dial. While he got his exercise, I lazed around on the floor waiting for the water to stop. When it slowed a bit, I decided to take a shower. Matt thought I was crazy, but I really just felt an inner calmness. I was SO pleased that Finn was on his way and I didn't feel like there was too much of a rush.
After a few minutes, I started to feel a light contraction or two. We hopped in the car, Matt growing increasingly agitated with each red light we hit. By the time we got to the ER, I was having stronger contractions, spaced about 7 minutes apart. The Labor and Delivery nurse came to get us, and I got wheeled upstairs while Matt talked a mile a minute, entertaining us.
Here is where the story took an unexpected turn. A week before - at my 38 week appointment - my OB had checked to make sure that Finn's head was "down", that he was in proper position. She said it was. However, upon arriving at the Labor and Delivery triage, they did an ultrasound and verified that his head was actually up underneath my ribs. I had wondered why I never felt any of those notorious kicks up under my ribs and I now knew why.
Unfortunately, because my water had already broken, they couldn't attempt to turn him due to the risk of infection. Therefore, our only option was an emergency C-section. Immediately, the on-call doctor gave me the run down of what would happen and she also assured me that it was still likely that I would be able to have a natural delivery with our next child.
Within minutes, I was wheeled into the surgical room in some very fancy duds. This was probably the scariest part of the whole ordeal as I was by myself. Matt couldn't come in until after they had given me a spinal block and he was the only one that could be in the room with me during the procedure. At this time, I was still having contractions and they were beginning to get painful. This is also when they shoved a giant needle into my back. Hence, it being the scariest part.
Matt in his fancy duds
Once they laid me down on the table, Matt entered and held my hand and opted to go no where near the surgery side of the sheet that was placed over my belly. A few moments later, we heard the blissful first cry of our sweet boy at 12:14 a.m. on December 1.
Our first sight of him
Once I was put back together again, we were wheeled into a room for the spinal block to wear off. Here is where Finn got to meet his grandmas for the first time and where I first nursed him. The room was certainly nothing spectacular, but it will always hold sweet memories.
12 hours later, after a few more nursings and some catching up on sleep, life began to slowly edge back towards normalcy. I was able to walk around, take a shower, welcome visitors, and hold my baby boy as much as possible. Those first couple of days were nothing short of beautiful.
As I sit here, nearly 12 months out, I cannot believe that a year has passed so quickly. And as I look back at pictures and how much my boy has grown, I am reminded of how necessary it is to inhabit each moment and live grateful.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Thanks God
This is the time of year when it is easy to remember to give thanks. Thanksgiving is even - dare I say it - shoved in our faces a bit. It has even exploded into a trendy habit on Facebook - people listing every day what they are grateful for leading up to Thanksgiving.
And it is encouraging to see this trend - being grateful. It certainly beats women reporting the color of their bra in order to raise awareness for breast cancer.
I read a really wonderful book about 5 months ago called "A Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. This book is entirely about giving thanks. For me, it served as an amazing educator on the great blessing of living a life of constant gratitude. Basically, the author was dared by a friend that she wouldn't be able to come up with one thousand things for which she was grateful. Long story short, she came up with one thousand and kept right on going, realizing that the more she gave thanks, the less anxious she felt about the trials in her life and the weaker hold anger and impatience had on her.
Intrigued, I began my own list of of gifts for which I was thankful. I found this to be a way to stay in a constant proper position of awe before God. By paying attention and giving thanks for my crazy amount of blessings, it was nearly impossible to let anxiety or discontent have any room to move in my life. I noticed myself, when I had a bad day, begin to immediately fix my thoughts on the blessings in my life instead of the circumstances of my negative mood. Each and every time, like a precious elixir, the gratitude worked to lift my spirits and renew my peace.
Sometimes, it is true, that giving thanks is not easy. Sometimes, it is far more natural to dwell on all that seems to be going wrong. But giving thanks doesn't have to consist of large and obvious blessings. It can be thanking God for this breath, for a moment when things seem to make sense, for another chance to hold my sweet boy with his head asleep on my shoulder.
Looking back on my own list of gratitude, it is almost like reading a journal of the last few months of my life:
#8 - Summer mornings that are cool enough to walk in
#19 - One last night with my dad before he passed away
#32 - New school supplies
#56 - Standing in church, surrounded by family and we are all singing
#85 - Seeing the sun and moon out at the same time
#100 - Butterflies in my belly
#111 - Flirting with my husband
#121 - A cathartic cry
#145 - Walking through a canopy of trees
#162 - Big sit down style family breakfasts
#180 - Seeing Finn make someone smile
#197 - Missing my husband when he is gone
#236 - A scar that brings back a memory
#268 - The fog settling over the prairie at dusk
#307 - Sitting with the windows open to let cool air fill the house
#383 - When Matt and I are both craving the same meal
#418 - Delivered packages
#447 - Sunny days after a week of clouds
#490 - When Matt apologizes for hurting my feelings instead of rationalizing
#510 - Not getting pulled over when cop is clocking and I am speeding
#543 - Walks around McKennan Park with an old friend
#623 - Finn's face when the wind blows strongly on him
#658 - Laughing with my husband at the end of a long day
#692 - Malt-O-Meal for breakfast
#718 - The way Finn clings to me when I get home from class
#748 - Matt's serious face when he gets up to check out a noise outside
#787 - Bundling up on chilly days
#833 - Matt telling a trick or treater that he is greedy
#860 - First eggnog latte of the season
#885 - Cooking while Finn plays happily with pots and pans in the kitchen
#919 - Freedom of paying off bills
#948 - The way Finn looks in his puffy winter coat
#962 - Big orange harvest moons that sit low in the sky
#975 - Matt offering to fold clothes so that I could take a bath
#991 - Peace coming in that passes all logical reasoning
These moments truly come in abundance when I stop and pay attention. It has been easy to reach 1,000 things I am thankful for. So easy, in fact, that I plan to keep on going and desire to make giving thanks to God the force that drives my life.
Truly I am blessed beyond anything that I deserve.
Life is sweet.
Thanks God.
And it is encouraging to see this trend - being grateful. It certainly beats women reporting the color of their bra in order to raise awareness for breast cancer.
I read a really wonderful book about 5 months ago called "A Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. This book is entirely about giving thanks. For me, it served as an amazing educator on the great blessing of living a life of constant gratitude. Basically, the author was dared by a friend that she wouldn't be able to come up with one thousand things for which she was grateful. Long story short, she came up with one thousand and kept right on going, realizing that the more she gave thanks, the less anxious she felt about the trials in her life and the weaker hold anger and impatience had on her.
Intrigued, I began my own list of of gifts for which I was thankful. I found this to be a way to stay in a constant proper position of awe before God. By paying attention and giving thanks for my crazy amount of blessings, it was nearly impossible to let anxiety or discontent have any room to move in my life. I noticed myself, when I had a bad day, begin to immediately fix my thoughts on the blessings in my life instead of the circumstances of my negative mood. Each and every time, like a precious elixir, the gratitude worked to lift my spirits and renew my peace.
Sometimes, it is true, that giving thanks is not easy. Sometimes, it is far more natural to dwell on all that seems to be going wrong. But giving thanks doesn't have to consist of large and obvious blessings. It can be thanking God for this breath, for a moment when things seem to make sense, for another chance to hold my sweet boy with his head asleep on my shoulder.
Looking back on my own list of gratitude, it is almost like reading a journal of the last few months of my life:
#8 - Summer mornings that are cool enough to walk in
#19 - One last night with my dad before he passed away
#32 - New school supplies
#56 - Standing in church, surrounded by family and we are all singing
#85 - Seeing the sun and moon out at the same time
#100 - Butterflies in my belly
#111 - Flirting with my husband
#121 - A cathartic cry
#145 - Walking through a canopy of trees
#162 - Big sit down style family breakfasts
#180 - Seeing Finn make someone smile
#197 - Missing my husband when he is gone
#236 - A scar that brings back a memory
#268 - The fog settling over the prairie at dusk
#307 - Sitting with the windows open to let cool air fill the house
#383 - When Matt and I are both craving the same meal
#418 - Delivered packages
#447 - Sunny days after a week of clouds
#490 - When Matt apologizes for hurting my feelings instead of rationalizing
#510 - Not getting pulled over when cop is clocking and I am speeding
#543 - Walks around McKennan Park with an old friend
#623 - Finn's face when the wind blows strongly on him
#658 - Laughing with my husband at the end of a long day
#692 - Malt-O-Meal for breakfast
#718 - The way Finn clings to me when I get home from class
#748 - Matt's serious face when he gets up to check out a noise outside
#787 - Bundling up on chilly days
#833 - Matt telling a trick or treater that he is greedy
#860 - First eggnog latte of the season
#885 - Cooking while Finn plays happily with pots and pans in the kitchen
#919 - Freedom of paying off bills
#948 - The way Finn looks in his puffy winter coat
#962 - Big orange harvest moons that sit low in the sky
#975 - Matt offering to fold clothes so that I could take a bath
#991 - Peace coming in that passes all logical reasoning
These moments truly come in abundance when I stop and pay attention. It has been easy to reach 1,000 things I am thankful for. So easy, in fact, that I plan to keep on going and desire to make giving thanks to God the force that drives my life.
Thanks God for this guy:
And this baboose:
And these guys:
And friends that know me inside and out and love me still:
Truly I am blessed beyond anything that I deserve.
Life is sweet.
Thanks God.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Give it Away, Give it Away, Give it Away Now
In past Christmas seasons, I am ashamed to admit that I have devoured all of the gifts, traditions, and enjoyments in a selfish manner. It was all about savoring every moment, indulging my senses with many of my favorite things with intention to tide me over until the season came around again.
This year, however, I have felt God laying it on my heart to stop hoarding my blessings - especially during my favorite time of year. After all, isn't there more joy to be had in sharing my love of the season, rather than keeping it all for myself? The answer is yes. :)
There are a couple of ways that I am responding to what has been laid on my heart.
For starters, I have been gutting my closet lately in an attempt give away clothes that I absolutely do not need. Because I am a very sentimental person, I have a tendency to keep items simply if they remind me of a particular place or experience. For example, there is this shirt:
It brings back a hilarious memory with amazing friends, Mikaela and Emily. But the simple truth is that I was never a huge fan of this shirt and just bought it so we each would have one. I think I have worn it once because I feel as though it fits me weird.
So out it goes! Along with many others. This time, unlike previously pathetic closet cleansing experiences, when I hold up an item that I am on the fence about, I ask myself, "Could someone else use this more?". If the answer is "Yes", it goes in the pile.
Secondly, this video was shown during church last Sunday:
And it really drove the point home to me that Christmas is a time to externalize love, not to internalize and hoard.
It is a bit ironic that I am feeling this way this year, as it has been many years since I have felt this......un-wealthy. So the fact that I feel this desire to give pressing upon my heart is proof that God is stoking this fire. If our family was rolling in the dough, so to speak, it would seem more natural to want to pour forth from that overflow. But since our wallet is tighter than it has been in recent years, I believe that this burden is a chance to step out in faith and open the door to allow God to do some really amazing things in our lives.
Challenge accepted, God :).
Lastly, I want to encourage anyone reading this to step out and give a little of yourself this season - whether it is for a loved one or a stranger, whether it is financial or some simple quality time - I pray that our eyes are all opened to the fact that time is short and we only have so many moments to make someone else's life better, even if it is just for a day.
Here is one more video that I wanted to share. I watched it earlier today and seriously bawled my eyes out - in a heaving sobs, puffy eyes, snotty nose kind of way. Finn was looking at me like, "Mom? What's the shiz, diz?"
But it is another wonderful example of being an offering to make someone else's life more extraordinary:
This year, however, I have felt God laying it on my heart to stop hoarding my blessings - especially during my favorite time of year. After all, isn't there more joy to be had in sharing my love of the season, rather than keeping it all for myself? The answer is yes. :)
There are a couple of ways that I am responding to what has been laid on my heart.
For starters, I have been gutting my closet lately in an attempt give away clothes that I absolutely do not need. Because I am a very sentimental person, I have a tendency to keep items simply if they remind me of a particular place or experience. For example, there is this shirt:
So out it goes! Along with many others. This time, unlike previously pathetic closet cleansing experiences, when I hold up an item that I am on the fence about, I ask myself, "Could someone else use this more?". If the answer is "Yes", it goes in the pile.
I have been looking at this experience a bit as a purging of silly t-shirts that don't relate to my level of silliness anymore.
For example, while the My Little Pony t-shirt goes,
the Teen Wolf t-shirt stays.
I am still on the fence with the Queen t-shirt - not quite sure if I am ready to let go of my Queen phase yet :).
Secondly, this video was shown during church last Sunday:
It is a bit ironic that I am feeling this way this year, as it has been many years since I have felt this......un-wealthy. So the fact that I feel this desire to give pressing upon my heart is proof that God is stoking this fire. If our family was rolling in the dough, so to speak, it would seem more natural to want to pour forth from that overflow. But since our wallet is tighter than it has been in recent years, I believe that this burden is a chance to step out in faith and open the door to allow God to do some really amazing things in our lives.
Challenge accepted, God :).
Lastly, I want to encourage anyone reading this to step out and give a little of yourself this season - whether it is for a loved one or a stranger, whether it is financial or some simple quality time - I pray that our eyes are all opened to the fact that time is short and we only have so many moments to make someone else's life better, even if it is just for a day.
Here is one more video that I wanted to share. I watched it earlier today and seriously bawled my eyes out - in a heaving sobs, puffy eyes, snotty nose kind of way. Finn was looking at me like, "Mom? What's the shiz, diz?"
But it is another wonderful example of being an offering to make someone else's life more extraordinary:
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The Family Tree
Ah, November. Welcome, friend!
This day marks the beginning of my favorite time of year: holidays, family, traditions....I get butterflies just thinking of it all!
I have long argued that November 1st is the marker for holiday celebrations. It is now officially not crazy to listen to Christmas music, light my candle that smells like a Christmas tree, and buy egg nog.
Other things that are on my "must list":
- treat myself to a Starbucks holiday drink at least once a week until Christmas (last year I was pregnant and couldn't partake; that makes this year's drinks even more rewarding!)
- make a sad face every time Matt mentions that he really doesn't want to hang up the Christmas lights this year
- begin my annual viewing spree of Christmas movies: every year it seems that there are more to get through so I always have to start earlier
- begin planning Finn's first birthday party
- be on the lookout for these bad boys:
This day marks the beginning of my favorite time of year: holidays, family, traditions....I get butterflies just thinking of it all!
I have long argued that November 1st is the marker for holiday celebrations. It is now officially not crazy to listen to Christmas music, light my candle that smells like a Christmas tree, and buy egg nog.
Other things that are on my "must list":
- treat myself to a Starbucks holiday drink at least once a week until Christmas (last year I was pregnant and couldn't partake; that makes this year's drinks even more rewarding!)
- make a sad face every time Matt mentions that he really doesn't want to hang up the Christmas lights this year
- begin my annual viewing spree of Christmas movies: every year it seems that there are more to get through so I always have to start earlier
- begin planning Finn's first birthday party
- be on the lookout for these bad boys:
Seriously the best candy ever
- make Matt dinner for breaking our Christmas tree out of the back corner of our storage room. Err, actually, it would probably be nicer to let him make dinner.
- teach Finn not to touch or climb on said Christmas tree
- begin teaching Finn the reason that we celebrate Christmas
- I suppose I need to fit in studying for my final and writing my self-assessment paper. Bah humbug.
- spend this season in gratitude for the amazing blessings in my life
Holiday to-do lists are something that Kiki and I started when I was in college as a way of making sure that we fit our hoard of family traditions into the week or two that we were together each season. I tracked down our first one (our best one, really):
- Drink egg nog and sit by the fire
- Visit family at the farm
- Get into our pajamas at 6 p.m. and don't get back out until 4 p.m. the next day
- Play Catchphrase (until someone gets mad)
- Drive around and look at Christmas lights
- Shop 'til we drop
- Sing Christmas carols while holding hands
- Go to a cheap movie and eat popcorn
- Head stand contest
- Listen to mom play the piano
- Go to Target and see who can buy the most with $5
- Swim suit contest
- Make snow angels for two hours
- Sledding at Tuthill
- Drive by each old house and reminisce on old Christmas memories
- Color Christmas pictures and hang them on the fridge
- Take as long as possible to open our stockings
- Dress Kody in a Santa costume
- Eat lots of junk food and have a pregnant belly contest
- Sleep in Christmas outfits and see whose is most wrinkle-resistant come morning
Mom later added many more sane ideas to our to-do list, including bringing others food, spending time one-on-one with each other, taking turns making dinner, taking walks in the snow underneath the stars, and loving each other by practicing tolerance and patience. She is such a mom :).
Going back over these lists and memories in my head makes me appreciate my family and our traditions so very much. Maybe that is why I love the Christmas season so much: it is the one time of year when my family comes back together, at least for a little while. Being the youngest, a good chunk of my childhood was lived with my siblings having moved from home and living other places.
But once a year, they almost certainly come home. Once a year, we are a physical family.
This song is my new favorite Christmas song by my one of my favorite artists, Dave Barnes. It makes me cry almost every time and long for my family to just be here already.
And wow, I am tearing up as I write and this post just got a whole lot more emotional than I thought it would. Signing off with my good pal DB singing me away.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Great Cookie Debacle of 2011
Let me begin with a simple question: is there anything easier to bake than chocolate chip cookies?
I became a titch over-zealous last night. Forgetting the fortitude that it takes for me to successfully bake, I decided to make chocolate chip cookies. After all, I was coming off of a really great week.
I found out that I received an "A" on my midterm exam in Appraisal and thereby spent the next couple of days puffing myself up. It felt really good to be slightly overwhelmingly busy, but still manage to get an "A" on a tough midterm.
There wasn't anything I couldn't do! I am woman, hear me roar?
Hence, the over-zealous inclination that baking needed to be done.
But it has to be asked: how exactly does one manage to ruin chocolate chip cookies? The recipe is fairly standard and basic. The instructions are easy to understand and follow. But as far as my baking skills are concerned, the results leave much to be desired.
The first batch became one large cookie conglomerate, as all of the cookies ran together. Additionally, somehow the edges burned and subsequently stuck to the sheet.
I became a titch over-zealous last night. Forgetting the fortitude that it takes for me to successfully bake, I decided to make chocolate chip cookies. After all, I was coming off of a really great week.
I found out that I received an "A" on my midterm exam in Appraisal and thereby spent the next couple of days puffing myself up. It felt really good to be slightly overwhelmingly busy, but still manage to get an "A" on a tough midterm.
There wasn't anything I couldn't do! I am woman, hear me roar?
Hence, the over-zealous inclination that baking needed to be done.
But it has to be asked: how exactly does one manage to ruin chocolate chip cookies? The recipe is fairly standard and basic. The instructions are easy to understand and follow. But as far as my baking skills are concerned, the results leave much to be desired.
The first batch became one large cookie conglomerate, as all of the cookies ran together. Additionally, somehow the edges burned and subsequently stuck to the sheet.
First batch - are cookies supposed to be translucent?
The second batch was a fraction better. Now instead of one ginormous, burned-around-the-edges cookie, I had 12 single, burned-around-the-edges cookies. Success? Success-ish.
The third batch was another fraction better, although still burned. I made Matt promise not to laugh at me; he promised and then thoroughly broke it. Who could blame him? After all, this stuff comes easy to him.
Keep in mind that the best-looking cookies are at the top
In the midst of my cookie-making debacle, I had the thought that God saw it good for me to be humbled: "Sure, you may get A's on tests, but your cooking leaves much to be desired!" :)
But I have to admit, I was pretty sad that my cookies were so shabby. After all, if I can't even bake chocolate chip cookies, is there hope for me to ever become Holly Homemaker?
That thought was reinforced again today, as I strove to clean up my seriously neglected house. Since I typically have to squeeze work in while Finn is napping, I am not able to attack housework during those times. Plus, trying to get it done with him awake is a challenge; therefore, it is easy to put it off.
I am not sure what happened, but I did not get the same DNA strand that my mom and Kiki have to keep consistently clean homes. They are rock stars. Cleaning rock stars!
Speaking of rock stars - shout out to my favorite!
Since I did not get said clean gene, it always takes me awhile to gain my cleaning sea legs. On top of trying to occupy an 11 month old who only wants to play with whatever it is Mommy is using and not a corner of the house that didn't need attention, this morning definitely had hectic moments.
What I learned?
- Realize that if Finn is not getting enough attention, he will let me know
- Keep in mind that he is always more important than the task at hand and he does not deserve to be scolded for being curious in what I am doing
- Things can be attacked in greater intensity during 30 minute Baby Einstein break
- Baby cookies (i.e. not Mommy cookies) are a great distractor - for use in the high chair, while cleaning the kitchen
- Don't sit down. It is always easiest to keep moving. Newton had it right: an object in motion stays in motion unless something intervenes to bring it to rest.
- A good reward for me on Fridays after a busy week is to get to sit down and blog
Happy weekend!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Busy McGee
Ufda! I have not had much time to post lately due to a hectic schedule! It seems as though our little Fjerky fam has been running around endlessly for the last month or so, but we have so much to be thankful for! The things that have been filling our lives are blessings - each and every one of them. Therefore, as we ride this busy season through, we just take a deep breath and do the next thing - whatever that may be!
I believe that I am truly cultivating the art of multi-tasking as our schedule fills in each week. For example, last week I had a midterm and was having a hard time sitting down and studying for it. It seemed as though when I would get a moment during Finn's naps where I wasn't working or catching up on something, I could not find the motivation to study as I waited for him to wake up. So instead I made flash cards and would quiz myself on them while I did other things. Waiting for my computer to restart? Study! Nursing Finn? Study! Driving across town? Study! (carefully, of course).
With Matt working a full time job and being the interim worship leader at our church, it definitely feels as though we see him less, which has been an adjustment. It is a very worthy adjustment to make however, in order to see him ministering in what he is passionate about. His joy and energy when he sings and leads people in worship is inspiring to me. Yesterday in church, I caught myself just smiling like a fool because I was just so happy for him (his joy was evident) and also so very proud of him. I am very fortunate to be his wife!
With all the crazinesses, I have found myself juggling to find a balance between it all. There is this truly cheesy Amy Grant song called "Hats" which talks about all the different (drumroll, please........) hats that she wears. I would post it here but I really don't want to because it is really that bad ("hats!").
I am balancing between trying to be: supportive, loving wife; teaching, loving mother; part-time employee and trainer; studious, invested graduate student; not to mention friend, daughter, sister, small group member, human video director, and loyal church attendee!
Like I said, blessed.
The moments that I feel overwhelmed are wonderful opportunities to take a deep breath and give thanks.
And then?
Just do the next thing.
Okay.....I couldn't resist! Partake in this ear candy!
I believe that I am truly cultivating the art of multi-tasking as our schedule fills in each week. For example, last week I had a midterm and was having a hard time sitting down and studying for it. It seemed as though when I would get a moment during Finn's naps where I wasn't working or catching up on something, I could not find the motivation to study as I waited for him to wake up. So instead I made flash cards and would quiz myself on them while I did other things. Waiting for my computer to restart? Study! Nursing Finn? Study! Driving across town? Study! (carefully, of course).
With Matt working a full time job and being the interim worship leader at our church, it definitely feels as though we see him less, which has been an adjustment. It is a very worthy adjustment to make however, in order to see him ministering in what he is passionate about. His joy and energy when he sings and leads people in worship is inspiring to me. Yesterday in church, I caught myself just smiling like a fool because I was just so happy for him (his joy was evident) and also so very proud of him. I am very fortunate to be his wife!
With all the crazinesses, I have found myself juggling to find a balance between it all. There is this truly cheesy Amy Grant song called "Hats" which talks about all the different (drumroll, please........) hats that she wears. I would post it here but I really don't want to because it is really that bad ("hats!").
I am balancing between trying to be: supportive, loving wife; teaching, loving mother; part-time employee and trainer; studious, invested graduate student; not to mention friend, daughter, sister, small group member, human video director, and loyal church attendee!
Like I said, blessed.
The moments that I feel overwhelmed are wonderful opportunities to take a deep breath and give thanks.
And then?
Just do the next thing.
Okay.....I couldn't resist! Partake in this ear candy!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
16 Years
The little yellow house on 4th Ave was a safe place. It was where our family released and relaxed and just was.
October 13, 1995; it was in this yellow house that I climbed the stairs to go to bed that Friday night. Kiki was away at college so it was just me upstairs with the sloped ceilings and trick closet.
About 2 a.m., I awoke from my sleep by the ringing of our doorbell, by swift knocking. I rolled out of bed wondering what could possibly be so important to warrant knocking AND ringing at such a time in the morning? The drama of the possibilities pulled me from my room and down the narrow staircase.
As I reached the bottom stair, I watched as my step-dad strode to the front door to respond to the ringing/knocking noise. When I saw a pair of policemen, I felt a flurry of nervous butterflies in my belly, wondering if one of my siblings had gotten into some trouble.
Bryan spoke briefly with the policemen and then I watched as he made his way down the hallway to my mom, who was just coming from their bedroom.
I was the sole witness as he told her what the police had told him. I watched as she broke down.
I continued to watch, not knowing what else to do. In my 13 years of experience, I had never seen anything like this before.
My anxiety was increasing....what would cause my mom to break down so? She didn't break down, ever. She was a rock. Our rock.
I watched still as she somehow found her way through the kitchen and began walking downstairs. I followed, my stomach tight. What was going on?! Mom had seated herself near the bottom of the steps in order to talk with my brother, Josh.
Had Josh done something? Was he in trouble?
I sat quietly, nervously at the top of the stairs.
"Matthew was killed in a car accident tonight."
And with those words, life changed, safety shattered.
I don't remember getting up from the stairs, but I do remember the phone calls to my sisters and my dad.
I remember waking up the next morning in my mom's bed and thinking that the police could have somehow made a mistake.
I remember looks of concern and pity.
I remember standing in the kitchen in a circle with my siblings, each holding one of Matt's bandanas and each crying.
I remember thinking over and over again, "But just last week he was standing right there in the doorway making fun of our pumpkin decorating skills..."
It has been 16 years, but those moments are seared into my memory like a bright red brushstroke against an otherwise blurry photograph. And the truth is, I don't ever want to forget. There is something sacred in remembering the moments that change your life forever.
October 13, 1995; it was in this yellow house that I climbed the stairs to go to bed that Friday night. Kiki was away at college so it was just me upstairs with the sloped ceilings and trick closet.
About 2 a.m., I awoke from my sleep by the ringing of our doorbell, by swift knocking. I rolled out of bed wondering what could possibly be so important to warrant knocking AND ringing at such a time in the morning? The drama of the possibilities pulled me from my room and down the narrow staircase.
As I reached the bottom stair, I watched as my step-dad strode to the front door to respond to the ringing/knocking noise. When I saw a pair of policemen, I felt a flurry of nervous butterflies in my belly, wondering if one of my siblings had gotten into some trouble.
Bryan spoke briefly with the policemen and then I watched as he made his way down the hallway to my mom, who was just coming from their bedroom.
I was the sole witness as he told her what the police had told him. I watched as she broke down.
I continued to watch, not knowing what else to do. In my 13 years of experience, I had never seen anything like this before.
My anxiety was increasing....what would cause my mom to break down so? She didn't break down, ever. She was a rock. Our rock.
I watched still as she somehow found her way through the kitchen and began walking downstairs. I followed, my stomach tight. What was going on?! Mom had seated herself near the bottom of the steps in order to talk with my brother, Josh.
Had Josh done something? Was he in trouble?
I sat quietly, nervously at the top of the stairs.
"Matthew was killed in a car accident tonight."
And with those words, life changed, safety shattered.
I don't remember getting up from the stairs, but I do remember the phone calls to my sisters and my dad.
I remember waking up the next morning in my mom's bed and thinking that the police could have somehow made a mistake.
I remember looks of concern and pity.
I remember standing in the kitchen in a circle with my siblings, each holding one of Matt's bandanas and each crying.
I remember thinking over and over again, "But just last week he was standing right there in the doorway making fun of our pumpkin decorating skills..."
It has been 16 years, but those moments are seared into my memory like a bright red brushstroke against an otherwise blurry photograph. And the truth is, I don't ever want to forget. There is something sacred in remembering the moments that change your life forever.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
At All Times
Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. I toss and turn, my mind jumps around, I envy those all over the world who are sleeping peacefully. There is usually no consistent reason for this trouble: sometimes I have things on my mind, sometimes I stress myself out, sometimes I just lay restfully and wait for the sleep to come.
Last night was such a night. I tried all of my usual tricks and nothing seemed to help me capture the sweet bliss of drifting off to dream. The longer I lay there, the more consumed my mind became with, "I have class tomorrow night and we have to counsel in front of the class and I am so nervous for that....and then what if I don't sleep well tomorrow night? What about my midterm next week? What if I am grumpy with Finn tomorrow?" And on and on and on.....
And honestly, this morning I am tempted to be frustrated. I am tempted to feel sorry for myself. I am tempted to question God, "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!"
But then a wonderful reminder in my devotional this morning: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth...I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears." Psalm 34:1, 4
YES! I will bless the Lord at all times! His praise will continually be in my mouth!
After all, isn't there always something to be grateful for? God is generous to us.
This morning at about 5:15 while I actually was sleeping, Finn woke up in the middle of a coughing and crying tornado. It was far too early for him to be awake awake, so I went into his bedroom, pulled him from his crib and brought him out to the couch to soothe him. We laid down, I rubbed his head, and we cuddled until he fell asleep. My active, curious, independent boy cuddled with me!!! It was its own kind of bliss, even if my sleep was spotty.
So this morning, as the temptation to be anxious about sleep or frustrated with my view of God's sleep-provisions to me..............I choose to give thanks that I got to cuddle with my boy for a wonderful hour. I choose to give thanks for the unused Starbucks gift card from Matt that I can utilize on my way to class for a caffeine boost. I choose to give thanks - in faith - that God will use the experience last night some how, at some time, for my good. That's His promise (Philippians 4:6-7) and I choose to stand on it. Can you feel the pep talk I am giving myself? :)
One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite songs ("How He Loves") says, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way that He loves."
That, to me, speaks of the vital necessity of filling my mind with the gifts of God, with speaking His praise and giving Him thanks................because really, if I am doing it as often as I should be doing it, I won't have any time to entertain any anxious thoughts about a lack of sleep.
Though troubles rise and I get frustrated and anxious, life is inherently good because God is inherently good and my life is for God.
May it always be so.............even at 3 a.m. on a light sleep night.
Last night was such a night. I tried all of my usual tricks and nothing seemed to help me capture the sweet bliss of drifting off to dream. The longer I lay there, the more consumed my mind became with, "I have class tomorrow night and we have to counsel in front of the class and I am so nervous for that....and then what if I don't sleep well tomorrow night? What about my midterm next week? What if I am grumpy with Finn tomorrow?" And on and on and on.....
And honestly, this morning I am tempted to be frustrated. I am tempted to feel sorry for myself. I am tempted to question God, "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!"
But then a wonderful reminder in my devotional this morning: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth...I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears." Psalm 34:1, 4
YES! I will bless the Lord at all times! His praise will continually be in my mouth!
After all, isn't there always something to be grateful for? God is generous to us.
This morning at about 5:15 while I actually was sleeping, Finn woke up in the middle of a coughing and crying tornado. It was far too early for him to be awake awake, so I went into his bedroom, pulled him from his crib and brought him out to the couch to soothe him. We laid down, I rubbed his head, and we cuddled until he fell asleep. My active, curious, independent boy cuddled with me!!! It was its own kind of bliss, even if my sleep was spotty.
So this morning, as the temptation to be anxious about sleep or frustrated with my view of God's sleep-provisions to me..............I choose to give thanks that I got to cuddle with my boy for a wonderful hour. I choose to give thanks for the unused Starbucks gift card from Matt that I can utilize on my way to class for a caffeine boost. I choose to give thanks - in faith - that God will use the experience last night some how, at some time, for my good. That's His promise (Philippians 4:6-7) and I choose to stand on it. Can you feel the pep talk I am giving myself? :)
One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite songs ("How He Loves") says, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way that He loves."
That, to me, speaks of the vital necessity of filling my mind with the gifts of God, with speaking His praise and giving Him thanks................because really, if I am doing it as often as I should be doing it, I won't have any time to entertain any anxious thoughts about a lack of sleep.
Though troubles rise and I get frustrated and anxious, life is inherently good because God is inherently good and my life is for God.
May it always be so.............even at 3 a.m. on a light sleep night.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Rack, Shack and Benny
I recently got thrown into a bit of a tailspin.
Something that I had come to depend on as a loyal safety net was suddenly pulled from me and I felt a bit as though I was flailing.
As I have discovered in the past, if I focused on the loss or the stir of trouble, I quickly became sick to my stomach with anxiety. But, rejoice! If I focused on God and the belief of His sovereignty, peace remained.
I had to do this more than once, more than 10 times, really. Then I guess I just did it so much that the fear got tired of trying and stayed away!
This morning as I was praying, I found myself thinking about Rack, Shack and Benny.
Rack, Shack and Benny; otherwise known as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3).
I was thinking of their amazing story, of their total commitment to God: to refuse to bow down to King Nebuchadnezzar's god and thereby be thrown into (and saved from) the fiery furnace.
And I began putting myself in their shoes.......would I have been able to take that same bold stance for God? Would I have rather been thrown into the furnace than bow before another? Would I have gotten to experience the wonder of not getting burned by the fire?
Tragically, this is what came to my mind: "Well, I could do that if I was in the right frame of mind."
I began to try to decipher why that was my first reaction. After all, what does that mean? To be in the 'right frame of mind'?
It basically all came down to the fact that sometimes I feel close enough to God to risk anything for Him and obey Him no matter what He asks. Other times, our relationship isn't as easy or simple for me to trust.
More than anything, that passing thought gave me good reason to evaluate what it would take to remain in that so-called 'right frame of mind'. I don't have the entirety of my relationship with God figured out in statistics or black and white obviousness, but I do know that I want to consistently remain in the frame of mind that I would rather die than disown or disobey Him. I want to be a Rack, Shack and Benny compadre.
One of the first verses that I remember learning was 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." I always gravitated to this verse because fear has always been a struggle of mine and it reminds me that fear is not what God wants for me. He wants me to be "of sound mind".
I remember being a bit disillusioned however, upon reading the NIV: "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid but gives us power, love and self-discipline." Self-discipline? Can't I have a sound mind instead? Trade-sies?
About a month ago I was thinking about this verse and why it was translated in different versions as "sound mind" and "self-discipline". What is the similarity that exists between them?
Perhaps, just maybe.........sound mind = self-discipline.
Perhaps, just maybe, we often come to be of sound mind through self-discipline - the self-discipline of training our minds to be sound.
This was truly revelatory to me, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
It is pretty clear that Rack, Shack and Benny would not have been able to choose what they did and see a miracle of God if they had been operating in fear, rather than from a trifecta of soundness. If they had been focusing on the fire or their fear of being burned, they most likely would have acted to appease King Nebuchadnezzar. But they were focused on God and knew that He was bigger than the issue they were facing. This gave them the sound minds they needed to know that whatever happened, they could trust God.
For people like me, a sound mind is not a trait that comes naturally. Rather, it is something that I need to work hard to cultivate in myself because that is what God wants me, as His follower, to have.
The cultivating comes by recognizing fearful and anxious thoughts and replacing them with the word of God; by spending more time thinking about God's character and love than about myself or my situation.
"Truth is never at the mercy of facts. Facts say I feel lonely and afraid. Truth says, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you'." - Damon Thompson
I'm still learning. And sometimes I have to choose to focus on God 10-plus times before the anxious thoughts get tired and give up.
But there is a sound mind to be had and I'm going to get it.
Something that I had come to depend on as a loyal safety net was suddenly pulled from me and I felt a bit as though I was flailing.
As I have discovered in the past, if I focused on the loss or the stir of trouble, I quickly became sick to my stomach with anxiety. But, rejoice! If I focused on God and the belief of His sovereignty, peace remained.
I had to do this more than once, more than 10 times, really. Then I guess I just did it so much that the fear got tired of trying and stayed away!
This morning as I was praying, I found myself thinking about Rack, Shack and Benny.
Rack, Shack and Benny; otherwise known as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3).
I was thinking of their amazing story, of their total commitment to God: to refuse to bow down to King Nebuchadnezzar's god and thereby be thrown into (and saved from) the fiery furnace.
And I began putting myself in their shoes.......would I have been able to take that same bold stance for God? Would I have rather been thrown into the furnace than bow before another? Would I have gotten to experience the wonder of not getting burned by the fire?
Tragically, this is what came to my mind: "Well, I could do that if I was in the right frame of mind."
I began to try to decipher why that was my first reaction. After all, what does that mean? To be in the 'right frame of mind'?
It basically all came down to the fact that sometimes I feel close enough to God to risk anything for Him and obey Him no matter what He asks. Other times, our relationship isn't as easy or simple for me to trust.
More than anything, that passing thought gave me good reason to evaluate what it would take to remain in that so-called 'right frame of mind'. I don't have the entirety of my relationship with God figured out in statistics or black and white obviousness, but I do know that I want to consistently remain in the frame of mind that I would rather die than disown or disobey Him. I want to be a Rack, Shack and Benny compadre.
One of the first verses that I remember learning was 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." I always gravitated to this verse because fear has always been a struggle of mine and it reminds me that fear is not what God wants for me. He wants me to be "of sound mind".
I remember being a bit disillusioned however, upon reading the NIV: "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid but gives us power, love and self-discipline." Self-discipline? Can't I have a sound mind instead? Trade-sies?
About a month ago I was thinking about this verse and why it was translated in different versions as "sound mind" and "self-discipline". What is the similarity that exists between them?
Perhaps, just maybe.........sound mind = self-discipline.
Perhaps, just maybe, we often come to be of sound mind through self-discipline - the self-discipline of training our minds to be sound.
This was truly revelatory to me, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
It is pretty clear that Rack, Shack and Benny would not have been able to choose what they did and see a miracle of God if they had been operating in fear, rather than from a trifecta of soundness. If they had been focusing on the fire or their fear of being burned, they most likely would have acted to appease King Nebuchadnezzar. But they were focused on God and knew that He was bigger than the issue they were facing. This gave them the sound minds they needed to know that whatever happened, they could trust God.
For people like me, a sound mind is not a trait that comes naturally. Rather, it is something that I need to work hard to cultivate in myself because that is what God wants me, as His follower, to have.
The cultivating comes by recognizing fearful and anxious thoughts and replacing them with the word of God; by spending more time thinking about God's character and love than about myself or my situation.
"Truth is never at the mercy of facts. Facts say I feel lonely and afraid. Truth says, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you'." - Damon Thompson
I'm still learning. And sometimes I have to choose to focus on God 10-plus times before the anxious thoughts get tired and give up.
But there is a sound mind to be had and I'm going to get it.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Kicking My Own Booty - Day ?????
I remember when I first got pregnant, there was an innate part of me that was hoping I would be the woman whose weight dropped off effortlessly post-baby. After all, I had genetics in my favor - if you've seen my mom you know what I mean :).
It turns out, that wasn't so much the case. BUT here I am, 9 months later and I can say that I have officially lost my baby weight....even a couple pounds more than. Granted, I have a little extra baggage in certain areas than I had pre-baby, but the pounds don't lie, right?
It seems equitable to me: 9 months to gain the weight, 9 months to lose it.
It seemed as though the proper reward for losing the baby weight was a semi-makeover, so today I dyed my hair brunette, which is something I have been wanting to try for awhile. And what can I say - I really love it!
And finally, a few gratitude shout-outs:
Devin - for giving me insight into the uncharted territory of healthful living and eating
Matt - for saying I was beautiful even when I felt far from it
Finn - for being worth every pound
Kiki - my biggest cheerleader and empathizer
My scale - for finally being on my side
And to all those who love me large and love me not so large...............
a genuine thank you.
It turns out, that wasn't so much the case. BUT here I am, 9 months later and I can say that I have officially lost my baby weight....even a couple pounds more than. Granted, I have a little extra baggage in certain areas than I had pre-baby, but the pounds don't lie, right?
It seems equitable to me: 9 months to gain the weight, 9 months to lose it.
It seemed as though the proper reward for losing the baby weight was a semi-makeover, so today I dyed my hair brunette, which is something I have been wanting to try for awhile. And what can I say - I really love it!
(Un-styled, but you get the idea)
And finally, a few gratitude shout-outs:
Devin - for giving me insight into the uncharted territory of healthful living and eating
Matt - for saying I was beautiful even when I felt far from it
Finn - for being worth every pound
Kiki - my biggest cheerleader and empathizer
My scale - for finally being on my side
And to all those who love me large and love me not so large...............
a genuine thank you.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Errr.....Awkward Pause
I hate awkward pauses. I think that is the primary reason that I am not a fan of small talk.
"How are you?"
"Good! How are you?"
"I'm good."
"Err....ummmm.....uhhhhhh. "
.........................awkward.................................pause.
"Okay then! See you later!"
But really I think I hate it because I am not very good at it, unlike my husband who I have always said could have a conversation with a wall:
"Hey wall! How are you? I like your paint! You're pretty sturdy! Say hello to your mother for me, alright?"
I often don't initiate conversation with others unless I can mentally note about 5 conversation topics should the awkward pause rear its ugly head. Its really that bad for this introverted, shy, clumsy girl.
As I was driving down to Vermillion yesterday for class, I was praying for my family and it hit me that sometimes life feels like one, long awkward pause. It is as though we are always in a state of paused waiting....waiting to graduate college, waiting to find "the one", waiting to get pregnant, waiting for the big job. Waiting for the answer to our prayers.
And I think that if I am really honest with myself, I have to admit that as soon as God answers one of my prayers, it isn't long before I delve back into longing for something. Therefore, life as one long pause.
I began thinking about those who lived in a state of pause in the Bible:
Abraham - waiting for the promised child
Moses - waiting for entrance into the promised land
Joseph - waiting through imprisonment for his chance to save his people
Esther - waiting many months to be the king's choice
Life is waiting. And there is so much that needs to be experienced in the pauses. I read this morning in Streams in the Desert:
"There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music...Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there. God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God himself will count the time for us." - John Ruskin
I often find that when God is really trying to drive a point home to me, he is very consistent in what He shows me. Hence, my thoughts of living in the pauses of life on my way to class last night. Hence, reading this this morning:
"Like the faith diggers do every day, we bury our swollen prayers in Him who's raised from the tomb. We lay our hope, full and tender, into the depths of Him and wait in hope for God to resurrect something good. Good always necessitates long waiting....this waiting on God is the very real work of the people of God." - Ann Voskamp
There is much to be experienced in the pauses of life. We are not to doubt or manipulate to get what we want in order to have some facade of control. Rather, we are to trust in God despite the circumstances. Real faith overflows in us when we choose to trust God even in the long moments of waiting, when He hits the "Pause" button on our tape deck (yes, tape deck!)
One of my favorite songs says, "When the suffering's all that I see, may I walk with you by faith and not by sight." (The Father's Heart-Hillsong).
My faith comes to full fruition when I choose to trust even when I do not understand. God hasn't promised that I would always understand; but He did promise to never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).
I remember when I was swollen in pregnancy with Finn and I was anxiously awaiting his arrival. There were some moments when I literally didn't think that I could wait any longer. And in a moment of great need, I randomly found this verse tucked into one of my old planners:
"But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you. He's gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes the time to do everything right - everything. Those who wait around for him are the lucky ones" (Isaiah 30:18 MSG).
That verse spoke to me everything I needed to hear in that moment and a few days later, my sweet boy was in my arms.
My mom is well aware of the pauses that we feel like we are living in. As she was reading the Word this past weekend, she sent me Habukkuk 2:3 and felt that it was to be our family's promise during this time:
"For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."
Though it linger, wait for it. Though the pause is awkward and uncomfortable, know it won't last forever. Though the music tarries, enjoy the rest in full confidence of the next note.
"How are you?"
"Good! How are you?"
"I'm good."
"Err....ummmm.....uhhhhhh. "
.........................awkward.................................pause.
"Okay then! See you later!"
But really I think I hate it because I am not very good at it, unlike my husband who I have always said could have a conversation with a wall:
"Hey wall! How are you? I like your paint! You're pretty sturdy! Say hello to your mother for me, alright?"
I often don't initiate conversation with others unless I can mentally note about 5 conversation topics should the awkward pause rear its ugly head. Its really that bad for this introverted, shy, clumsy girl.
As I was driving down to Vermillion yesterday for class, I was praying for my family and it hit me that sometimes life feels like one, long awkward pause. It is as though we are always in a state of paused waiting....waiting to graduate college, waiting to find "the one", waiting to get pregnant, waiting for the big job. Waiting for the answer to our prayers.
And I think that if I am really honest with myself, I have to admit that as soon as God answers one of my prayers, it isn't long before I delve back into longing for something. Therefore, life as one long pause.
I began thinking about those who lived in a state of pause in the Bible:
Abraham - waiting for the promised child
Moses - waiting for entrance into the promised land
Joseph - waiting through imprisonment for his chance to save his people
Esther - waiting many months to be the king's choice
Life is waiting. And there is so much that needs to be experienced in the pauses. I read this morning in Streams in the Desert:
"There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music...Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there. God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God himself will count the time for us." - John Ruskin
I often find that when God is really trying to drive a point home to me, he is very consistent in what He shows me. Hence, my thoughts of living in the pauses of life on my way to class last night. Hence, reading this this morning:
"Like the faith diggers do every day, we bury our swollen prayers in Him who's raised from the tomb. We lay our hope, full and tender, into the depths of Him and wait in hope for God to resurrect something good. Good always necessitates long waiting....this waiting on God is the very real work of the people of God." - Ann Voskamp
There is much to be experienced in the pauses of life. We are not to doubt or manipulate to get what we want in order to have some facade of control. Rather, we are to trust in God despite the circumstances. Real faith overflows in us when we choose to trust God even in the long moments of waiting, when He hits the "Pause" button on our tape deck (yes, tape deck!)
One of my favorite songs says, "When the suffering's all that I see, may I walk with you by faith and not by sight." (The Father's Heart-Hillsong).
My faith comes to full fruition when I choose to trust even when I do not understand. God hasn't promised that I would always understand; but He did promise to never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).
I remember when I was swollen in pregnancy with Finn and I was anxiously awaiting his arrival. There were some moments when I literally didn't think that I could wait any longer. And in a moment of great need, I randomly found this verse tucked into one of my old planners:
"But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you. He's gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes the time to do everything right - everything. Those who wait around for him are the lucky ones" (Isaiah 30:18 MSG).
That verse spoke to me everything I needed to hear in that moment and a few days later, my sweet boy was in my arms.
My mom is well aware of the pauses that we feel like we are living in. As she was reading the Word this past weekend, she sent me Habukkuk 2:3 and felt that it was to be our family's promise during this time:
"For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."
Though it linger, wait for it. Though the pause is awkward and uncomfortable, know it won't last forever. Though the music tarries, enjoy the rest in full confidence of the next note.
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