Paige's Pages

Autobiographical Poetry

2012-01-24T11:24:00.003-06:00

Today we wrote poems ... autobiographical poems. You should have heard the laughing at the table and the obvious pleasure they had when reading their personal poems out loud for the rest of us to hear. This was definitely the highlight of our school time today.

The kids all gave me permission to share with my handful of readers. Enjoy!

Maddie
Magical, happy, creative, brown-eyed
Daughter of Jon Hamilton
Lover of animals, sweets, writing
Who feels joyful, gleeful, excited
Who needs tender love and care
Who fears roaches, sharks, sudden death
Who gives compassion, kindness, and love
Who would like to see Hawaii, The Nutcracker, and Japan
Resident of Lafayette, Louisiana
Hamilton

Megan
Organized, realistic, kind, dutiful
Sister of 3 sisters and 3 brothers
Lover of food, God, music
Who feels happy, loved by my family, young
Who needs a family, God, love
Who fears God, sharks, hiking at night alone
Who gives joy, love, gifts
Who would like to see Florida, California, heaven
Resident of Lafayette, LA
Hamilton

Julia
Creative, joyful, affectionate, adventurous
Sister of Maddie
Lover of pet fish, cupcakes, and World Vision
Who feels happy, joyful, playful
Who needs Sushi*, sweets, family
Who fears God, balloons popping, atomic toilets**
Who gives cheefulness, kindness, gladness
Who would like to see Paris, God, Hawaii,
Resident of Lafayette, Louisiana
Thompson

*Sushi is the name of Julia's pet betta fish
**I have no idea what she is talking about, but this part of her poem did cause the entire table of children to break out in raucus laughter that lasted at least 5 minutes

Joel
Athletic, Pasta-lover, gotta keep track of me, tall
Brother of Nacho*
Lover of pasta, Reese's peanut butter cups, football
Who feels like tackling Nacho in football games, like eating Reese's
Who needs serious help, something good and mutant poptarts
Who gives love, peace, and mutant poptarts (since I hate them)
Who would like to see all 50 states (even though that means I went over by 47)**
Resident of Lafayette, LA
Thompson

*Nacho is Joel's nickname for Nathan
**The template for this poem said to list 3 things you want to see

Nate
Humble*, great, jovial, special
Son of Matt
Lover of ice cream, legos, pasta
Who feels humble, happy, like a piece of cake
Who needs air, water, food
Who fears God, Joel tackling me, and Patrick Willis**
Who gives money, love, and probably something else
Who would like to see the SuperBowl, Mt. Rushmore, the Great Wall of China
Resident of Lafayette, LA
Thompson

*Nate loves to talk about how "humble" he is and how he is a "Humbologist"
**Patrick Willis is a linebacker for the San Francisco 49'ers, just in case there is anyone else out there who (like some other unnamed person) asks the obviously dumb question: "Who is Patrick Willis?"

Paige
Intelligent, creative, blue-eyed, beautiful (or so I'm learning to believe)
Wife of one, mother of five
Lover of Christ, Jon, books, and sushi*
Who feels joyful, peaceful, full of love in Christ
Who needs hugs, kisses, and lots of chocolate
Who fears heights and snakes, but not any evil
Who gives books on birthdays, help and hugs on hard days, prayers and smiles everyday
Who would like to see Scotland, New England in the fall ... and grandchildren someday
Current resident of earth but future citizen of heaven
Hamilton

*And I'm talking about the food, not Julia's betta fish!

Age Old Battles

2012-01-14T20:49:00.000-06:00

Beautiful Maddie ... so innocent, so imaginative, so youthful, so creative, so cheerfully playful. She's a little girl in a woman's body. Her clothes and her shoes are found in the women's section of the department store, but she still plays with toys and enjoys the thrills of childhood. While she looks very much like a young adult, she isn't an adult at all.

Looks can be deceiving. The young try to look older. The old try to look younger. It's an age old battle.

Sometime ago my Maddie-girl confessed a hushed secret to me, whispered in the dark as we snuggled on the sofa, "GiGi, I don't want to grow up ... ever. Being grown up is hard and I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I'm not sure I will ever be ready."

Growing up can be hard. I remember 13 and I'm glad to be passed those difficult years of puberty. It's an age old battle, fought by the millions, transitioning from the carefree days of childhood into the realm of adulthood responsibilities.

And yet, I have a confession to make as well ... You see, I'm fighting this age old battle, too. And I'm not sure I'm ready ... ready for 40 in just 9 more months. Furthermore, I'm not even sure that I want to be ready ... ready for middle age years and teenagers and the responsibility or changes that will come with this new season in life.

It's only January 14th and yet already 2012 has felt emotionally turbulent as this storm of resistance against aging wells up within me.

Perhaps it is simply in the knowing that this is the year I turn 40 that makes it an emotional battle. Or maybe it is in the watching my children turning from young children into preteens, putting aside the babyish toys and developing a need for deodorant, that suddenly makes me feel older. Is it finding that I am often one of the "older" moms in my homeschool groups? Somehow there is a soul shock in realizing that I am no longer the sleep-deprived mom seeking someone to give me hope, but rather I am the giver of encouragement to the mom of preschoolers and toddlers.

Whether it was just one of these things or a combination of them all, the emotions inside me are like a torrent. I want time to stand still, to stay right here and not journey on any farther. Why can't I just be a 30-something mom forever? I'm not exactly sure I will like the adventure of being 40'ish and raising teens.

Oh, I know ... It's futile to fight growing older for life doesn't work that way. Aging continues with each second that passes, with each breath of air we take into our bodies, with each morning we welcome and each night we kiss goodbye.

Why did I never notice before that the growing pains don't stop just because our bodies stop growing physically? Instead, it seems to me, that the older we get the more the growing pains hurt in the soul, in the heart, in the places you can't gently rub in the night to make the aching go away. Growing in spirit is much harder than growing in body.

And why it is that growing pains must always be so painfully hard? I suppose the simple answer is that if they weren't painful they wouldn't be called growing pains. The more complete answer might be that growing pains indicate a new phase in life, entering a new season, the coming into a new place. Change, while often a very good thing, is usually not easy, at least it has rarely been easy in my life.

Right now I'm in the trenches, battling the very idea of 40 and of growing into someone I do not yet know, a woman who is more experienced and therefore able to be an encourager and mentor to those who walk behind me in the journey of life.

But I am not alone, for this is a battle of the ages.

It's an age old battle, fought by a myriad of people and in a variety of ways. There are those who want to "grow old gracefully" and those who refuse to "grow old without a fight." I wonder how I will be, if age will suit me or if I will always feel as out of sorts as I do right now.

It's an age old battle. And whether I like it or not ...whether I'm ready or not ...whether I want it or not ...whether it's painful or not ... This is where I am in life. I'm growing up and that's a good thing.

I just didn't expect to still feel growing pains at 39.

Racing to Ten

2012-01-10T18:40:00.003-06:00

Yesterday was my nephew Micah's birthday. He and my daughter Julia were born the same year, are in the same grade, and have always been big buddies whenever they are together.

So yesterday around lunch I told Julia that we needed to remember to call Micah and wish him a happy birthday once he got home from school. Julia agreed to help me remember and then said, "Momma, exactly how old is Micah now?"

I said, "Micah and you were both born the same year, sweetie. So today Micah turns 9 years old, just like you will be 9 years old this summer."

Julia clenched her fist, stomped her foot and said in a very annoyed voice, "Oooo ... This is so frustrating! He beat me to it again! Next year I am definitely beating him to ten!"

It's a couple of years old now, but I've always loved this picture of Micah and Julia together.

A Little Mud Slinging

2012-01-10T15:43:00.001-06:00

This is Nathan. He is working hard at trying to repair a rather large hole that he dug this afternoon. He was digging this hole so that he could bury a time capsule that would be discovered many years from now by future generations.

Notice the red box off to the side of the photo? That's the time capsule. In a former life, the box was simple a cardboard container for some odd and random item. Nathan filled it with an assortment of treasures ... silly bands, an old DVD too scratched for us to watch, a penny, a pencil, couple of matchbox cars, a football trading card or two. He taped a note to the front (written in pencil on an index card) and prepared to bury it for people who lived far, far in the future to discover. I'm honestly not sure what these future people might have thought should his cardboard container even have survived into the future.

The hole was impressive. It was deep enough for Julia's legs to nearly be concealed when she stood inside it. The only reason I know this is because that's where the obvious mud line stops on her pants ... the new ones that she got for Christmas that have only been worn 2 times. Also because at some point Nathan proudly stated, "Well, at least I know that I can dig a hole that is nearly to Julia's waist!"

I was unaware of the hole digging going on in the yard for quite sometime, or the hole wouldn't have been nearly so deep. I've got a sinus infection and laid down for a rest. It wasn't until a frantic Megan came to me and said, "Oh, GiGi! It's just terrible! Nathan is out of control!" that I woke up. What I found was a boy that looked more like a mud monster, happily slinging mud all over the yard. The rest of his siblings were joyously encouraging him ... Maddie slinging mud back, Julia teasing him by flitting around and around and yet never close enough to hit, and Joel by filming the entire thing on his brand-new digital camera (also a Christmas gift). Meg, who hates dirt and disorder, became so distraught that she came to get me to intervene, but only because she was afraid that the mud slinging might get on the area where she was playing school with her Barbies.

In the beginning, I was too ticked (and too groggy) to take a picture of the mud monsters. Now that I have calmed down, I wish that I had. He was covered from his blond hair to his feet. His face was streaked in dried mud, his fingers caked in the thick ooze. Not an inch of his body was dirt free except that which was covered by clothing, and even then most of it was wet and dirty as well. It would have made a fine picture for future parental embarrassing.

I'm debating on how I should feel about this episode now that the initial reaction has passed. I could continue to focus on my anger over the resulting muddy mess, both inside and out. But messes can be cleaned and holes refilled so that seems a little pointless in the long run.

Perhaps I should feel proud of the fine ditch-digging son I've got. He's obviously skilled in this area. Many a fine man has dug roadside ditches and sewer lines and foundations for houses in order to provide for his family. However, I must admit with as smart as this boy is and with all of the talents given to him by his Creator, I was hoping he would aspire to something else.

I could choose to remember that this kind of activity is the very stuff boys are made of ... digging, dirt, mud, wild ideas, spur of the moment plans, larger than life projects. These very qualities that seem so childish now are the qualities that will (hopefully) mature as he ages and with a little wisdom have the potential to turn my wild little boy into a man who lives with a passion for life.

One thing is crystal clear to me right now ... my reaction will be of my own choosing. So with that in mind, I'm choosing right now to look beyond the mud and the mess to see hopefully into the heart of the boy and the future already planned out for him by God.

I'm choosing to thank God once again for this son, while I pray that someday Nathan will use all of this energy and enthusiasm for the glory of the very One who has made him this way.

And I'm choosing to spend the rest of this fine afternoon teaching a certain ten year old boy how to clean up muddy footprints with a mop and a bucket of water!

Change, Change and More Change

2012-01-04T21:25:00.004-06:00

I've been changing and rearranging here on Paige's Pages.

Actually, changing and rearranging seems to be a theme in my life right now. Last week, I painted and redecorated Meg and Julia's room ... we made new curtains and a throw pillow for each girl's bed, painted the dresser and put new handles on the drawers, painted the metal bunk bed, painted the walls bright and happy colors. The room looks completely different now.

Today, I rearranged the living room in our home. We had taken down the Christmas tree and suddenly I wanted to do something different with the space. It wasn't major changes, but just enough to make the room feel fresh and new.

I suppose my recent fondness for changing spilled over onto changing up the blog. Truly, it needed to be revamped. I found a new template. I love the new blue look of my blog. Next, I learned how to add pages, and created this bar at the top of the blog. In all of my reading so that I could figure out how to change things up, I discovered some fun gadgets to add to my sidebar. My favorite of all the changes is a new button at the very bottom of my blog that looks like this:

The button was a "freebie" from a woman named Melanie with a beautiful heart for God. Her word of the year is "giving" and so she was giving of her talents in graphics and web design by making a word of the year button to anyone who asked. I'm glad she did ... it gives me another way to share what God is doing in my heart as I focus on the laundry in 2012. For more about Melanie, check out her blog: Only a Breath.

I guess that my new blog changes are really no different that rearranging the living room, or painting the bedroom a new color and buying new bedding to match. It's like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly I've got a new enthusiasm for blogging again. Certainly, change can be a very good thing. And thankfully, changing up a blog is not nearly as expensive as redecorating a room!

As I've thought about change, a couple of scriptures came to my mind. I love what James 1:17 has to say about God and change: Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. And then there is this scripture from Numbers 23: 19: God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?

Today, on this 4th day of a brand-new year, I'm glad for the ability to make personal changes ... big ones, small ones, significant ones or even small blog changes that really don't amount to a hill of beans. But I'm ever so grateful that I serve a God who never changes!

Let Them Eat Cake

2012-01-03T15:42:00.002-06:00

How on earth will I ever explain this to Jon?

He will know the minute he walks into the house for the warm and welcoming scent that greets him will surely give away the secret that I've been baking. And so here I sit, not ten minutes after pulling it out of the oven, staring at the cake on my counter-top, trying to figure whatever possessed me to bake the darned thing in the first place and what possible plausible reason there might be to explain my actions.

Perhaps it was the already opened bag of chocolate chips in the pantry ...

Maybe it was the fact that I had a can of chocolate frosting leftover from Christmas goodie baking ...

It might have been just to give myself something to do for being in the kitchen and cooking up good things for my family brings me a lot of joy ...

And yet, none of these quite explains my sudden desire to bake a cake. No, the only real explanation for the cake is my own sinful nature. I want to be healthy, and yet I find myself doing things that don't result in healthy bodies. I want to keep my promise to my husband to help him be a physically healthy man, and still I struggle with a desire to bake him lots of sweets and treats. I want to help the kids grow into healthy adults who eat appropriate kinds and amounts of food, and yet I find myself giving them unhealthy food options on a regular basis.

Sigh ... That which I want to do I do not do. That which I hate, I find myself doing. It's on days like today that I simply despise having a sin nature, which is why it is good to recall that the Apostle Paul also struggled in this area:

We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.[c] For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

~Romans 7: 14-25

Now that the cake has had time to cool, I think I'm going to slice it up and let the girls deliver it to some of our neighbors. It's okay to bake as long as someone else eats the cake!

Fish Food for Thought

2012-01-02T18:54:00.005-06:00

On Christmas morning, as Julia rummaged in her stuffed stocking, she pulled out a small card with a fish drawn on it and the words, "What will you name me?" At first there was a confused look and then she grinned and gave an excited squeal. "Really? A fish? My very own pet?!"

Julia, our resident animal lover, was quite delighted at the prospect of becoming an official pet owner in 2012. But to her disappointment, Julia had to wait until after she returned from visiting with her father before she could go pick out her fish. She returned yesterday evening and today she could not settle down until we got her new fish.

After lunch we finally went to the store to pick out Julia's fish, and there were so many to choose from! In fact, the choices were a bit overwhelming for there was bowl after bowl after bowl of beta fish.

Julia stood on a little stool, given to her by the store manager, so that she could carefully inspect the fish. She solemnly peered into each glass container, as she silently stroked the sides of the bowls.

There were brilliant red ones, shocking blue ones, soft purples, iridescent greens, and even a shimmery gold one with bright orange and black flecks so that it resembled a leopard print.

There was a soft baby blue one with tiny black stripes. It had these short, spikey fins that somehow gave it the look of a beautiful bird feather. Maddie and I were immediately drawn to its unusual look. Julia was not impressed.

Megan pointed out this especially fancy looking fish ... a extremely vivid red one with long, fluttery fins that whipped and whorled around it in the water. The manager said, "Oh that's a Half Moon Beta. It's very pretty, but also more expensive. It costs $20."

I was preparing to tell my little girl that we were not going to buy the $20 beta fish, but then I realized that Julia wasn't interested in that one either. She was already enchanted with another fish.

I took a quick glance at the bowl only to realize that the one that she was gazing at so lovingly was absolutely the most unremarkable in a group of amazingly beautiful fish. It was a dull pale pink. The fins, which weren't overly long or especially wispy, swished and swirled as the fish darted back and forth in the water.

Julia caught my eyes and exclaimed, "Momma ... look how it follows my finger! This is the fish for me!"

So that's how it came to pass that we took home the plainest beta fish in the store. I think Maddie and Megan and I felt a little disappointed in her choice, but Julia beamed all the way home as if she knew she had found a rare treasure among all the gems.

Isn't that how it is with God too?

Hasn't He turn the scared and uncertain stutterer into a man who lead an entire nation out of slavery as they crossed over the Red Sea on dry ground?

Didn't He use the very smallest of the underdogs to overcome the impossible giant?

Remember how He found the man hiding in the threshing barn and used him to lead a tiny ragtag army into battle, only to have them defeat their unbeatable enemy in the most remarkable of ways?

And this God chose the young virgin maiden barely old enough to leave her parents as the one to bring forth His salvation.

This is our Father who long ago called to the weary fishermen, with their torn and empty nets, to bring His gospel to the far corners of the earth.

And sometimes, He even uses a plain little beta fish to remind me that His ways are not my way and that His truths stand forever for He is not a God of change. He is still calling the weary, using the small and the weak, the scared, the underdog, the wounded ... if only we are willing to be used for His glory.

Make it so in my life, Lord! Make it so!

Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 1: 26-31

Tales from the Laundry Room

2012-01-01T07:00:00.002-06:00

New Year’s resolutions depress me. It’s goal-setting at its worst ... or at least that’s the way it always seems to work out for me. Never fails that two weeks into the new year and I’m already struggling with my resolutions. Then I start feeling like a failure and beating myself up for my inability to become a better person.

I’m not against goal setting. In fact, I think it is a necessary part of life ... at least it is necessary for those who want to continue to grow and change. Goal setting itself isn’t bad. It’s just somehow combining a new year with a list of resolutions dooms me to failure.

So for the past several years, I’ve done something different. I’ve forgone the resolutions for the new year in favor of a word of the year. It works like this ... I begin to pray and ask God what he would like for me to focus on in the coming year. Over the next few days (or even weeks) a word will be impressed upon my heart. This is my word of the year and whenever I look back I can always see how I grew or changed or learned lessons relating to that word. I never know exactly how it will all come together because I am not setting the goal for myself. Rather I am yielding myself to what God wants to show me and teach me in a particular area of my life.

When I started thinking about my word for 2012, I knew that there were so very many qualities I needed to work on adding in my life: consistency, serving, training, finding joy, etc. And when I asked God which word I should focus on for the next year (in a half-hearted sort of way because for some reason I really didn't expect an answer right then and there), He immediately responded with LAUNDRY.

I am ashamed to admit this but chances are pretty good that I probably rolled my eyes at the Good Lord's suggestion. You see, I hate to do laundry. It is my personal nemesis. I dislike washing the clothes, drying the clothes, folding the clothes, putting the clothes away ... I even dislike buying laundry detergent because it is so expensive.

Over the years, I have come to realize that I dislike laundry because there is no end to this chore. If I clean the bathroom, it will remain clean for a few hours at the very least. If I mop the floor, generally it looks mopped for the next day or so. Even washing dishes is a chore that can be finished. My counters will stay mostly cleared between meals. These are jobs that I can complete.

Not so with laundry ... Just as soon as you think you have emptied the basket at long last, then it is time for bed and the basket is full again. And with 5 kids in our home, trust me ... the basket is always full, and there is always another load that needs to be washed, dried, folded and put away.

So when God immediately told me that I was going to be focusing on laundry in the coming year, my response was something like this:

"Really, God? My word for 2012 has to be LAUNDRY? Surely you must be kidding me!"

He wasn’t ... for then, in that soft and gentle way of the Holy Spirit, I began to see more than just a basket full of dirty underwear and smelly socks. In focusing on the laundry I discovered so much more:

*staying consistent in taking care of this dreaded chore
*training my children to help me share this daily burden
*joyfully serving my family by caring for them even in the most mundane of ways
*finding pleasure even in something I don't care to do
*accepting help from my husband without being critical of the way he does the laundry or feeling guilty that he is choosing to help me empty the basket

God knows I need all those qualities above. He (and I) also know that if I had a long list of New Year’s resolutions relating to all of these traits I'd either begin to feel overwhelmed, dooming myself to fail before I’d ever gotten started. And in the same way, if I made consistency, training, joyfully serving, accepting help, etc as my words for the year, I'd likely forget which words I was focusing on and not make any headway at all in my personal growth. God knows that I won't forget the word LAUNDRY. In fact, laundry is something I must do each and every day. And now that God has gotten my attention regarding laundry duty in 2012, chance are that I will not forget what God has promised to teach me through something as mundane and despised as laundry duty.

Now that I understand what I can learn and the possibilities of what God can show me, I'm a bit more eager to go wash a load of clothes. Hopefully my enthusiasm doesn't wane before Valentine’s Day!

Christmas Thoughts

2011-12-26T21:15:00.006-06:00

Christmas is over. The house is quiet. My thoughts are running back over the last few days of celebrations, and I just felt like sharing some of my thoughts.

Since late September I have fretted and worried and prayed over how to manage Christmas this year. So many little issues ...

*It was our first as a blended family.

*Jon was hospitalized last Christmas and was sick for much of the year, and as a result we have enormous medical bills and very little extra cash flow. There was no way we could do for our 5 children what we used to do for them prior to our marriage.

*And how could we ever blend all of our traditions into something that worked for all of us?! I knew that as the mom it would mostly fall to me to figure it all out, and I really wanted this first Christmas to be meaningful and special and good for us all.

*Mostly I wanted our focus to be on Christ. If Jesus is the reason for the season, then I wanted our Christmas to show it.

I had come up with a budget of about $300 total for Christmas. It wasn't much, considering that we needed to buy for 5 kids, plus several others. But by mid-November I seemed to have a plan coming together. It must have been a God-inspired idea for I don't know where else it would have come from.

I put together 5 boxes to be opened on Christmas Eve after we read the Bible story ... one for each child to open. Inside each box was a small surprise to be given to everyone. After I planned out what to put in each of the boxes, I created 4 or 5 Bible verse clues so that before opening the gift and sharing the contents, the child had to read the verses and then try to figure out what was inside each box.

Box #1
Candy Canes ... really nice, big, thick ones and a candy cane ornament for our tree (We read a short version of the Candy cane legend, while enjoying the candy canes.)

Box #2
a Bible bookmark for each child, and a bag of M&Ms with a card attached telling how you could remember the nativity story as you turned the M&M around.

Box #3
CDs ... Seeds Family Worship (which is Bible Verses put to contemporary music). There are 6 or 7 different volumes based on a type of verse (verses for courage or faith or encouragement, etc), so we got a different volume for each child.

Box #4
Word Cloud mini-posters that I created for each child with their name and lots of their special traits and qualities and dreams. I laminated them so that they can hang them on their bedroom walls.

Box #5
a Christmas tree ornament ... one for each child representing something special that happened to them the past year.

The kids loved it (the mini word cloud posters were a big hit), and they had a terrific time with the guessing part of our gift opening.

Afterwards, we read An Orange for Frankie and shared a chocolate orange. Then we sang carols.

On Christmas morning, the kids opened their stockings, which were mostly filled with candy from the dollar store, toiletries but did contain one special $10-$15 gift ... A nutcracker for Maddie's collection, a book on Christian athletes for Joel, a magazine subscription for Nate, an very inexpensive MP3 player for Meg, and a tiny fish aquarium with a promise of a beta fish for Julia.

Everyone was thrilled, and not one complained or asked about where were the other presents. Jon and I were thrilled because it seemed to help us focus on Jesus and not on the Christmas extras.

Our first Christmas was different ... and so very special. We won't forget it. I can't help but ponder of the wonder of it. This time last year, I was worried over my soon-to-be husband's life. I can't tell you how many times during the first 6 months of 2011 that I wondered why on earth God would allow me to fall in love and marry a man only to take him to heaven. Even now, I constantly question why we had to go through such difficulty, and why we must still deal with ramifications of the experience even to this day.

But during the last 6 months of 2011, God has shown me over and over that because of that lengthy illness and the "problems" which resulted, our blended family has been forced to bond and forge in an amazing way. I am beginning to see how truly Jon's illness was God's mercy to our family, and we will forever be changed as a result.

This is Emmanuel ... God with me. God working in my life, in trials and grief and tough times. God working all things for my good, even when it hurts and doesn't make sense. God in me. God with me. God for me. This is Christmas. This is Emmanuel.

I know that so many are going through tough times .... many of you are facing things that are so much harder than the things I face. I am praying that somehow you too will find gold and silver linings throughout the problems, along with the fingerprints of God all over your life as you begin this new year!

with love,
Paige

2011-12-24T15:24:00.003-06:00

Hamilton Christmas Letter
December 2011

Hello and Merry Christmas to all of our loved ones! Jon and I can’t decide if 2011 can exactly be classified as a “good year,” but one thing we do know is there has never been another year quite like this one! Perhaps miraculous is the best word to describe the past twelve months for our family. It was certainly filled with a variety of contrasts and much drama. Thankfully, there was this unreal sort of joy in the background of it all which somehow made even the hardest of days seem good to us.

Jon and I are rapidly approaching our 1st anniversary on December 31st. During the first few months of our marriage, Jon tested out my promise to love him “in sickness.” Most of you know how Jon nearly died twice. But, after a major open heart surgery and 4 lengthy hospital stays, he is healthy once again ... and I’m able to say that though my love for him did not waver in the midst of sickness, I certainly enjoy being his wife during times of health much better! We are immensely grateful to everyone who prayed for Jon’s healing, sent cards and emails of encouragement, brought food or made hospital visits. Jon is truly a walking miracle and his renewed health is a constant reminder to us of God’s amazing powers, amazing love and amazing grace.

Many people ask us how blending our family of five children has gone, and wonder if the chaos ever gets to us at all. Actually, we have discovered that we rather like the chaos! Our small home is crowded and noisy and often cluttered with shoes and toys, but it is a happy home and we wouldn’t trade it for all the calm and quiet in the world. Best of all, recently we’ve had several people tell us that they cannot figure out which of our children belong to Jon and which ones belong to me ... which thrills us because we both think of all five as “ours.” Another testimony of God’s mercy to our family!

As hard as this past spring was for our family, we had some amazingly joyful times as well. Julia and Maddie both asked Christ to be their Savior within a 2 week period, and then Jon was able to baptize all 3 of our daughters in November. It was a day that we will cherish as parents, knowing that all 5 of our children have now put their faith and trust in Christ Jesus. And isn’t that what Christmas is all about anyway?

For truly, shouldn’t Christmas be more about the cross than the manger? Since Christmas is only the beginning of the story of salvation, shouldn’t we then acknowledge that the manger in Bethlehem wouldn’t be worth remembering if it weren’t for the cross of Calvary? For our family, Christmas is simply pausing to celebrate how the very God who spoke the oceans and mountains into existence humbled Himself to walk among us, fully man and fully God, and then allowed mankind to kill Him for sins that were not His so that we (who deserve it least) can be made holy and perfect in His sight.

The very thought makes our hearts want to sing with the angels ... “Gloria in excelsis Deo!” We pray that your heart is singing this Christmas, too!

With love and joy,
Paige & Jon Hamilton (along with Maddie, Joel, Megan, Nathan and Julia, too!)

A Worth Far Greater Than Rubies

2011-12-03T14:24:00.006-06:00

Today is my grandmother's birthday. I'm thinking of her with a smile wishing I could give her a huge birthday hug, sing a joyful rendition of the birthday son, watch her blow out candles and sit next to her as we enjoyed a piece of birthday cake. It's been nearly 5 years since she passed away, and so the only way I can honor her today is in my memories.

Two days ago, a dear family friend, Mrs. Jean E. Mitchell, passed away very suddenly. That afternoon I visited with my grandfather. I spoke of how I already missed Mrs. Jean E. He stared off for a minute and then replied, "I still miss your grandmother as much today as I did the day she died. Not a day goes by without me thinking of something about her or a memory we shared."

I understand ... thoughts and reminders of my grandmother are frequent. I suppose it has been a decade or more since she did any real cooking, but I am often surprised not to see her there in the kitchen when I step through the door of the house where she lived. On Sunday mornings I hear her voice in the familiar hymns of my childhood, her strong and mellow alto still singing in the back of my mind. Four years ago I bought a bottle of her favorite perfume, and whenever I wear it all day long I feel somehow as though she herself has given me a hug and the scent has lingered with me.

One of the most precious memories things that happened to me occurred on my birthday two years ago. I opened up a birthday card and it was signed with my grandmother's name. I blinked and then read it again. Sure enough, my grandmother had signed the card. And about the time I began to think I was going crazy, I noticed a note penned on the opposite side of the card ... a sweet message from my friend Jean E. Mitchell. She wrote how she thought I might appreciate receiving a "recycled" card that my grandmother had sent to her one birthday years ago and how she still had such sweet memories of my grandmother. The tears began to flow and I felt this surreal love around me ... the precious rememberance of my grandmother's love expressed to me in a tangible way through the love of another friend.

In a few minutes I'll be leaving to go to the visitation for Mrs. Jean E. I've been thinking of her a lot the past two days ... all the things she taught me and how her life was such an example of being a godly woman. And today as I've remembered my grandmother, I'm amazed at how many qualities these two women shared ... virtues described in Proverbs 31.

These are a few of the lessons I've learned from both of these women:

~She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. (v. 12)
I never heard my grandmother or Mrs. Jean E. speak ill of their husbands. Both of them were proud of the men they married, spoke highly of their strengths and successes, supported their husband in all of his endeavors, and radiated love and admiration for their spouse.

~She ... works with eager hands. ... She sets about her work vigorously. (v. 13, 17)
Both ladies were hard workers, actively serving at home and at church. Mrs. Jean E. kept the church sign with a current message, decorated bulletin boards, helped with functions of all sorts. I never knew her not to be busy ... it could even be hard to keep up with her when she walked! My grandmother seemed more easy-going in her approach and yet she was always busy doing something ... cooking, visiting those who were sick or grieving, helping behind the scenes with church functions, always there and always ready to help.

~She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. (v. 20)
My grandmother taught me so much about reaching out to those who needed food, clothes, money or love. She gave generously and was always aware of those in need. Mrs. Jean E. also was a generous woman, who gave freely of what she had.

~She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. (v. 25)
One of the things I recall most about my grandmother is her laugh. Mrs. Jean E. laughed often as well. Inner joy is a gift from God and both of these precious ladies had that gift. They were women mature in their faith, bold and courageous in their lifestyle, joyful and peaceful ... they were inspirations to me.

~A woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. (v. 29)
So many times I've heard it said that the best witness for Christ is our day-to-day life. My grandmother and my friend were women who lived for Christ every day. They took care of His people. They took care of His creation. They gave of their love and their possessions. They honored Christ with their eager willingness to serve. They feared the Lord and so whenever I remember them and the things that they taught me I am blessed again.

Although I know that I will continue to miss both of these women, their deaths do not represent the end. My much-loved grandmother and my dear friend will continue to live on in my heart and memory. More importantly, their souls will live on for eternity in the presence of the Lord they loved so much with their time on earth.

The Joy of Grief

2011-12-02T09:30:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I lost a great friend ... a wonderful lady that I've known and loved for my entire life. Today I am grieving for her, already missing those precious parts of who she was that I cherished and loved and was not ready to part with so suddenly.

Grief is never easy. I've grieved before ... when my great-grandmothers died, at the passing of my grandfather and my grandmother, when my first marriage ended. I dearly loved each one but they were all either very old (over 90) or very sick (cancer, alzheimer's). In a way, death for them seemed like a blessing and the grief was somehow not as overwhelming.

This sort of grief is a first for me. My friend was the same age as my parents, and her death was so very sudden. Sixty-three seems far too young to die, especially for someone who was so full of life. Just last week I saw her at my grandfather's Thanksgiving Breakfast. She hugged my neck and we talked, never dreaming that would be our last conversation. This is the kind of grief that evokes questions ... "Why, Lord? Why now? Why her?"

And yet, there is a supreme peace in the midst of this grief. My friend knew Jesus. She knew Him well. She loved Him and served Him and shared Him in all areas of her life. I know that while I grief and mourn and shed tears for her passing, she is singing with the angels, bowing low before the throne of her Beloved Saviour, walking streets of gold, gazing at the crystal sea, soaking in the majesty and wonder and complete awe of God Almighty. She was redeemed on earth and so she is now glorified in heaven. Today she is in paradise.

I can't describe the wonder of thinking about her now ... knowing she is completely healed of this earthly sin and shame, praising God in her now perfect body. She will no longer battle the day to day struggles of sin and pain. I know that she wouldn't come back to earth for a second now that she has experienced being with God in all of His perfect holiness.

Somehow this knowledge makes me long for the wonders of heaven a bit more, for I know that my grief will last for only a short season but her joy will now last for eternity.

Somehow this knowledge makes me miss her all the more, but not truly want her back on earth. Rather, I would like to go where she is ... to be with my Savior in a place so glorious that I cannot fathom it in my brain.

Somehow, the death of my friend has taught me that sometimes there is a joy that comes only in the midst of grief.

I am a better person for loving her on earth. I am also a better person for experiencing the grief of her death, as with the death of all those who love Christ, as seen through joy-covered glasses.

9/11 ... Choosing to Remember

2011-09-11T17:58:00.002-05:00

I am sitting in a cool room, lit by golden beams of sunlight streaming through the window. Looking out I see cardinals flit to and fro around the backyard, as well as the occasional bright color of a butterfly fluttering past. I am surrounded by the voices of my children, as they laugh and play in the next room with their neighborhood friends. All afternoon I’ve been mentally working on a grocery list, while Jon’s been tending to the yard work. In the background I hear the low hum of the dishwasher as it completes its cycle. And though I wish I could imagine it away, I know there is still a smallish mountain of laundry just waiting to be washed and dried and folded. It’s another perfectly normal day and somehow everything seems right in my little world ... just as it did ten years ago, before the towers fell.

Ten years ago in late August, I moved with my family to Monterey, CA. Joel was 17 months old. I was 7 months pregnant with Nathan. We moved there because my husband was in Army training, learning the Arabic language oddly enough. At the time, my biggest problem was figuring out childcare for my toddler when I went to my OB appointments every other week now that we were living in a new home so far away from all of our loved ones.

On the morning of September 11th, I was awakened by a phone call from Matt. It was very early in CA. I remember him saying that I should turn on the TV because something big was happening. I stumbled into the living room and turned on the news just in time to watch second plane crash into the WTC.

I had a terrible knot in my stomach. After a few quick minutes, I turned it off. For the rest of the day, I simply cared for my toddler, trying to pretend that life was the same, even though I knew that life would never quite be the same again.

Every so often over the next few days, I would try to watch a bit of the news coverage, but I never really could watch for very long before I would turn the TV back off. I told myself it was because I didn’t want Joel to watch those images. That was true, but honestly it was more because I didn’t want to watch those images either.

During those first few days and weeks following 9/11, time seem to drag by so slowly. I was always hyper-aware that we had been attacked and that our nation was at war with an unseen foe. But somehow, after a while, life sort of moved on. Within just a couple of months of 9/11, I had a new son to care for as well as a very active toddler to keep up with ... my life was moving forward and I was busy trying to keep up!

And now, ten years have passed. Ten autumns, ten winters, ten springs, ten summers ... full circle and back around.

Ten years ... yet somehow it doesn’t truly seem like it was all that long ago.

Ten years ago, I didn’t know that my precious toddler would grow into a tall, lanky young man, who would someday wear glasses. I certainly didn’t imagine that my sensitive boy would turn out to have a heart of courage. He grew into this child who wrote letters to presidents, won math bees, ran for office at his school clubs, asked his friends to donate money to children in Iraq instead of giving him birthday gifts. All I knew then was that his sweet, shy smile that melted my heart, and ten years later that still hasn’t changed.

Ten years ago, all I knew about Nathan was his name ... and that he kicked harder than his older brother. My California Beach Boy was born into post 9/11 America. Over the years he has grown into a chubby baby with the great laugh and then transformed with time into a handsome 9 year old ... big dimples, bright blue eyes, and a personality as big as his 5‘ 0”, 110 lb frame. He has 1001 interests and at least that many talents. Intensely loyal. Protector of the right. Defender of the weak. This is the son I carried ten years ago today.

Ten years ago, I never even dreamed that I’d be the mother of a little girl. But two years after 9/11, Julia breathed her first breath, and I’m forever blessed because of her pinkish giggles, purple ponies, and passion for life. Full of cuddles and hugs, yet fiercely strong-willed. Ten years ago today I didn’t know how much I needed my Julia.

Ten years ago I was married to another man. I thought I was going to die when my marriage fell apart. But God picked up the ashes of my life and molded it into something much more beautiful than I ever dreamed possible. Because of that, when I look back upon the last ten years of my life, I see ten years of blessings.

Of all the blessings from the past ten years, the best of them all has been Jon.

Jon. Tall, hazel-eyed, guitar-playing Jon. Like a warm wind blowing on a cool spring day ... like a cold glass of lemonade in the heat of summer ... like toasting cold fingers in front of a flickering fire on a brisk autumn night ... like gingerbread smells and singing familiar carols in the deep of winter ... my Jon. Comfortable. Cozy. Wrapped up in love. His name means “God has given” and that is exactly what he is ...a gift to me from God.

And so Jon brought to me blessing after blessing after blessing. Through his love, I gained two beautiful daughters ... Maddie, brown-eyed beauty with the gift of humor and laughter, and sweet, freckled Meg with the heart of gold. He gave me new friends to count among those old and dear. He gave me new perspectives on life. He brought me to a new place to call home. Through Jon I was given a new life, all fresh and bright again. These were my gifts, given to me by God through Jon. Ten years ago, I never knew what was going to happen, how my life would change, how a personal tragedy would eventually turn my life into something far more meaningful.

Grace has that sort of affect, I think. I look back on my life with grace-colored glasses and see the fingerprints of God over it all.

Grace has been poured upon my life, drenching my spirit and now everything has changed. Not perfect or without flaw because we still live in a fallen world and long for the perfection of paradise. Yet with grace, grace, grace we catch a glimpse of God’s glory.

This has been my life the past decade or so. From day to day it doesn’t seem like much ever happens, and yet when looked back on all at once ... well, my how things have changed! And all I did in the interim was live.

That’s the thing that seems so shocking and stunning about 9/11. All those victims ... those faces ... those numbers ... they represented real people. People who were in the middle of living life. On September 11, 2001 they were just working or taking trips or running errands. Life was happening and then suddenly, unexpectedly, tragically it was over.

In the past ten years, I’ve often heard it said that on September 11, 2001 life as we knew it in America ended. Perhaps. But I can honestly say that I don’t really live my life much differently than I did ten years ago. I still do the things I’ve always done ... care for my family, go to church, shop, drive, travel, etc. There’s no fear. I don’t do these sorts of things differently. Life’s not changed in that way. Not in the day to day living.

And yet, I can’t help but think of 9/11 and grieve for all the lives lost ... lives lost in planes crashes, burning buildings, toppling towers, and even on the battlefield in the Middle East. Living life as each of us do, one breath at a time, only to suddenly find that the next breath doesn’t come. Life is over. Life is done.

And this is the tragedy of 9/11 ... the senseless deaths of so many who were just going about life.

This morning, at about 9:15 am, I sat next to my Maddie-girl as she prayed and asked Jesus Christ to be her Saviour and to give her the blessed assurance of heaven. I don’t know if there is a greater joy on this earth than watching a person (especially when it is your child) experience the grace of Christ for the first time.

What Maddie did this morning has given her peace ... peace that when the tragedies come and the towers fall, she will not be alone. She has assurance that in her life there will be grace ... grace to drench her spirit and grace to turn her ashes into beauty. But mostly, she now knows that when life stops for her, when she no longer takes a new breath, that she will step into paradise ... perfect paradise where grace will no longer be needed.

When we turn to God and accept His grace in our life, falling towers can no longer threaten us. We will be able to live confidently in knowing that bad times and tragic events may happen, but God will not let us go. We will not fear for we are not alone. No matter what happens here on earth, the best is yet to be when we finally draw our last breath and go home to paradise in the presence of our Saviour.

No, I will never forget what happened on 9/11/01. But, I’ll never forget what happened on 9/11/11 either ... for in the grand scheme of life, the hope and the peace of salvation is far, far more important than the chaos of tragedy.

My prayer for each of my friends is this ... that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height, to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”

Learning to Read

2011-08-22T23:14:00.001-05:00

As hard as I try, I cannot remember life before I knew how to read. And I certainly cannot remember a time when I didn’t enjoy curling up with a good book and reading to my heart’s content.

It may sound strange, but I even associate certain books with periods in my life. Ramona Quimby might have been a pest, but she was my friend in 2nd and 3rd grades. I met Laura Ingalls in the 3rd and 4th grades. While Laura was intriguing, I identified much more with her sister Mary. I was heartbroken that Mary eventually became blind. In 9th grade, my mother insisted that I read Anne of Green Gables. I resisted initially, but in the end I found a kindred spirit. Oh, and lest I forget, there’s Father Tim who made his home in Mitford. I’ve read his stories over and over.

My favorite part of teaching has always been encouraging children to become readers and watching them delight in stories. When I taught 3rd grade, I always read Charlotte’s Web aloud to my students. It became a well-known fact that I couldn’t read the end of the story without sobbing. Most years, I had to have a student take over reading for me because I would cry so very hard. I knew Charlotte was going to die and still the tears flowed.

Waiting rooms, comfy sofas, on the bed, while I’m cooking, soaking in a bath, libraries, book stores, ... I love to read and read whenever I can. I nearly always carry a book with me just so I’m prepared should a few extra minutes suddenly pop into my schedule.

Yet, even I was sort of stunned to see a lady a church one Sunday morning without her Bible but holding a paperback book (The Help by Kathryn Stockett) instead. She clutched it tightly. It was ragged and dog-eared. I remember wondering why she had chosen to bring the book to church. For an instance I tried to envision the circumstance behind this decision, but then decided I really shouldn't judge her. But, three months later, I still find myself wondering why she brought a secular book to church instead of the Holy Bible, the very Word of God, a personal letter to His children.

It often seems to me that it is becoming more and more common place for people not to bring their Bibles to church, and this bothers me very deeply. I assume it has something to do with the big screens that are so common in churches today. The Bible passages are flashed onto the screen for everyone to see and no one has to look it up in their Bible anymore.

Over the summer I began to wonder since most folks don’t even bother to bring their Bible to church, if anyone still reads the Bible regularly between Sunday services. I do try read the Bible regularly, but honestly I don’t read for it for nearly as long as I might read another book, and I truthfully I tend to miss about as many days as I read, making my effort a very spotty 50% of the time. I feel guilty about this ... my attitude is just as poor as my habit. While I said I wanted to know God in a deeper way, I wasn’t even consistently trying to read what He wrote to His followers.

As a result of all this thinking and pondering and wondering how to change my Bible reading habits, I decided to take on a challenge ... read the Bible through in 90 days. It’s a neat program designed to help you read the Bible from cover to cover in just 3 months. I knew there were parts of the Bible I had never read before and I knew it would help me know God more if I had read everything His word has to say at least once. Besides, I figured I needed to put action to my words ... to show my desire instead of just talk about it.

This challenge has not been easy. In fact, this is a real struggle. I’m far behind in the reading schedule. Progress is excruciatingly slow. I feel like giving up. Currently, I am discouraged about making it through the most important book I will ever have the opportunity to read. But I won’t give up ...

You see, I’m learning to read ... learning to read what truly matters.

A Poem ... by Louisa May Alcott

2011-06-24T21:16:00.001-05:00

Tonight I discovered that the author of one of my favorite books is also a poet ... and her poem touched me deeply. I've been out of sorts and out of control of my emotions and my reactions, and I'm struggle to keep control of myself. Perhaps I need to stop struggling with myself and let God take over the struggle, for I've always found that when I let God have control of me that I somehow have control of myself.

My Kingdom
by Louisa May Alcott

A little kingdom I possess
where thoughts and feelings dwell,
And very hard I find the task
of governing it well;
For passion tempts and troubles me,
A wayward will misleads,
And selfishness its shadow casts
On all my words and deeds.

How can I learn to rule myself,
to be the child I should,
Honest and brave, nor ever tire
Of trying to be good?
How can I keep a sunny soul
To shine along life’s way?
How can I tune my little heart
To sweetly sing all day?

Dear Father, help me with the love
that casteth out my fear;
Teach me to lean on thee, and feel
That thou art very near,
That no temptation is unseen
No childish grief too small,
Since thou, with patience infinite,
Doth soothe and comfort all.

I do not ask for any crown
But that which all may win
Nor seek to conquer any world
Except the one within.
Be thou my guide until I find,
Led by a tender hand,
Thy happy kingdom in myself
And dare to take command.

This NOOK in my Side

2011-06-22T11:10:00.002-05:00

NOOK.

A month ago, my life was blissful. I had no desire for an e-reader. Then my mother let me borrow her Kindle...

and I fell in love. :lol:

Actually, I guess I feel into envy. I wanted a Kindle so bad, but we couldn't afford one and so I hoped that [I]maybe[/I] I might get a Kindle for Christmas/anniversary. The crazy part is that I knew I was envious and so I wouldn't even pray about my Kindle desires.

Then this really amazing thing happened. I was visiting with a friend of mine and jokingly telling her how sorrowful I was about having to return my mother's Kindle. This friend of mine is quite a bit older than me, and she is fairly well off. She laughed and said, "I have a NOOK. But I hate it. I much prefer to read a real book. In fact, I haven't used my NOOK in months and months. If you want it, it's yours. I will gladly give it to you!" I was stunned into silence (which can be a hard thing to do because I like to talk just as much as I like to write). Here was this amazing and completely unexpected blessing that I certainly knew I didn't deserve it because of my envious heart.

So one might think I could be happy now ... but NO. I am miserable. I keep recalling how easy it was to use the Kindle. With my mother's Kindle, reading books was so easy. Downloading books was a snap. I had that Kindle for 10 wonderful days. I've had the NOOk for 3 weeks now, and it has been 3 weeks too long! It has many more features than the Kindle, but all I want to do is to read a book and I can't seem to do that with this dadgum NOOK!

I can't really afford to buy books for the NOOK right now, but I *should* be able to download library books onto it. I have been trying unsuccessfully to do so for 3 days. By the way, my library e-book system doesn't support Kindles ... so even if I did have a Kindle, I couldn't use the library system with my e-reader. More proof that I should be thrilled beyond words to have a NOOK, but apparently I have a heart that is hardened toward NOOKs.

It all boils down to this: I wish I didn't have this dadgum NOOK. I just want a Kindle ... and that makes me feel incredibly ungrateful. But it is the truth, as ashamed of it as I am. :(

Sigh. Somehow this blessing of a NOOK seems to be teaching me more about my ungrateful heart than anything else. Lord, teach me to be content ... without an e-reader!

Painting the Sistine Chapel

2011-06-17T08:49:00.006-05:00

After six months, I can say that I'm finally finding my homeschooling groove once again! It's certainly different this time around ... older children, more children, a variety of ages and interests and talents. Coupled with moving and sick husband and kids who were used to public or private school settings, it has taken me several months to figure out how to do this, and as a former homeschooling mom I was not expecting such a long transition.

I'm finding my groove once again with a marvelous curriculum: Five in a Row. It's the same curriculum that I used before. Joel, Nathan and I loved it then. Once again, we are all loving learning with FIAR lessons. Each week, we read a book. From that book, we spin our language arts, history, geography, science, art, music, Bible, cooking and even math lessons for five days in a row.

And the kids are learning and the kids are engaged and the kids love school and I love teaching ... and all of this makes our home a happy place of learning.

This week our book is Angelo, written and illustrated by David Macaulay. From this story, we have discussed personification, birds, the process of restoring something old (like a building or painting), Opera, working diligently even in hard circumstances and as unto the Lord instead of for men. We've cooked spaghetti together. We've discussed showing kindness to the widows and respecting the elderly. The story takes place in Rome, so we are learning a lot about Italy.

As we talked about Italy and Rome, we discussed Michelangelo ... looked at his sculptures and paintings, and talked about his importance in art and history. As a fun activity, I let the kids paint Michelangelo style ... lying down! It's actually a legend that Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel while lying on his back. In a letter to a friend, Michelangelo actually wrote a funny little verse (talking about how his neck ached and paint dripped in his beard and how he struggled to maintain his balance) and he sketched himself painting ... standing up and leaned backwards! However, the kids still loved the experience. Here are some pictures of our fun afternoon of painting.

Meg, Julia and Nathan paint on their backs under the dining table. It was an afternoon of summertime fun, but none of us thought we'd like doing it for four years, which was how long it took Michelangelo to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel!

Maddie works on her painting while lying under a chair.

Joel's finished product ... "Paint in My Eye." I loved the title he gave his painting! He did indeed get paint drips in his eye, while paint dripped on Julia's hands, onto Meg's leg and hair, and all over my dining room floor. No matter how you go about it, painting on a ceiling isn't easy!

For more photos of our Michelangelo painting fun, please see my facebook album "Painting the Sistine Chapel."

Sometimes you just know ...

2010-11-11T19:59:00.001-06:00

Sometimes you just know ... deep, deep down in the soul. In the hidden places of the heart there is a knowing so vague that cannot even be formed into coherent thoughts, much less formulated into words. Sometimes you know but cannot fully acknowledge even to yourself that you know ... and yet ,when it comes to pass, you know that you have known that it would all along.

Sometimes you just know ...

There was some part of me that knew as I drove past that house every morning on my way to teach ... it's white frame glimmering in the fog, green and rolling pastures surrounding the yard. The house seem to smile, and my heart knew it was a place where good things would happen. It was a good home ... for while I lived there, a baby boy came into my life, made me a mother and changed me forever for the better. And somehow, years before I ever unpacked the first box and hung the first picture on the walls, I knew that the house on the bayou would be mine.

Sometimes you just know ...

There was some part of me that knew the moment I walked into the room that this lady standing before me was a friend to keep. I was new to town ... 6 months pregnant with two small boys clinging to my hands, and an absent husband who was busy preparing to go fight in a war across the ocean. But her smile seemed to light up the room, and suddenly I didn't feel quite so alone. Sometimes ,looking back, I am surprised that she's my friend ... we have so little in common, yet over the years we have shared so much, mainly a love for Christ which has bonded us as sisters forever. And somehow, even as we exchanged our names with a smile, I knew that Josephine was going to be a cherished friend.

Sometimes you just know ...

There was some part of me that knew as I said goodbye on that cold February morning that it was the last goodbye. I don't quite know how, but I already knew deep down ... otherwise, why would I have cried for thirty miles down the highway, sobbing until my eyes were so blurred with tears that I couldn't see the road before me and my chest heaved so that it hurt to even breathe? The end had come ... though not at all when or how I expected, and the grief before the storm ever even started was nearly unbearable. Yet somehow, even as I drove away with him standing there on the driveway and me not yet knowing why my heart ached so much, I already knew that there would be joy again.

Sometimes you just know ...

There was some part of me that knew the job would one day be mine. I was scared to apply for the position, to move into a career that was not familiar to me. I was not sure it was even what I wanted to do, and yet it seemed to be perfectly suited for me as well. The morning of the interview I wore red, to boost my confidence. I wore the same perfume my grandmother had always worn ... it felt like a hug from her, encouragement from one who had also been a 4-H Extension Agent years before. And somehow, when a few days later the call came in offering me the job as 4-H Agent, I already knew that I would enjoy the experience.

Sometimes you just know ...

There was some part of me that knew just by reading the words he had written. I can't say how I knew but I knew very strongly that this was the man God had revealed to me as a result of my prayers ... the man I had asked him to show me, the kind of man who was worth waiting for, the kind of man worth marrying. I read his profile and knew ... this was a man devoted to his Savior, active and seeking in his relationship with Christ, humble and true. I knew that he was exactly who he had written, and so very much more.

I knew from the beginning when I first read his honest words, "I don't know that I am ready to date at this point, but I know that one day I hope to be married again."

I knew the first time I heard his voice on the other end of the telephone ... and it felt familiar, like coming home.

I knew the first time I looked into his hazel eyes ... and saw that charming sparkle and shimmer and zest for life.

I knew the night he suggested we were already more than just friends ... and then he asked if he could pray with me.

I knew the first time he held my hand, the first time he kissed me and then second first kiss that we shared.

I knew when he brought to me three roses on Valentine's Day ... yellow roses with a bright flame of red on the tip of each petal, a "Dream Come True" rose for a friendship turning into love. Three roses ... a signifcant number, for in our relationship there had always been three, God with us.

Before I even knew, my heart has always known ... that this man was given to me and I was given to him. Certainly this was not of our own choosing and somehow beyond our control ... and yet I wouldn't have it any other way.

There are just fifty days remaining ... Fifty days until we recite our vows. Fifty days until we join our lives together forever. Fifty days ... that's all there is to go. Then we will begin something new. And my heart is trembling with a bit of anxiety for I am fearful. Fearful of moving forward, fearful of blending two families, fearful of failing at a second chance, but mostly just fearful of the unknown. And yet ...

Somehow I already know ... it's going to be a wonderful life.

For it will not just be the two of us ... there will be three, God with us.

"...and they will call His name Emmanuel, which means God with us." (Matthew 1:23)

Without Fear

2010-11-02T14:46:00.003-05:00

Since getting engaged a little over two weeks ago, I've experienced a little fear... well, actually quite a bit of fear. I am fearful of being unprepared for marriage, fearful of failing at a second marriage, fearful of not being the kind of wife my new husband will need, fearful of not being able to handle various aspects of blended family life, fearful of moving to a new town, fearful of changing jobs, fearful of being abandoned by a man I love yet again ... basically, I am fearful of the unknown. Additionally, I have been trying to prepare for my first ever speaking engagement for God, and finding that I am fearful in this as well ... fearful of failing God

As I have thought about and processed through these fears, God graciously brought to my remembrance this essay that I wrote nearly 2 years ago. He reminded me that a life that is lived in fear is not really a life that is lived well. I want to live my life well and bring much glory to God ... so let me not linger and dwell on my fears. Rather, let me live my life in such a way that I am bold and courageous, stepping out in faith, trusting that God holds me in the palm of His mighty hand and that He will be ever faithful to give me everything I need to live my life without fear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Without Fear

November 18, 2008

I have this homeschooling friend who recently became a single mother. She wrote about how she was looking for ways to bring in extra money so that she could continue to stay home full time rather than put her children into school and return to work. I read those words and paused for a second, wondering if I had not tried hard enough to figure out a way to continue to be home with my own kids. After all, putting the children into school wasn't part of my dream for this life. I wanted to admire my friend for her strong desire to continue to live out her life's dream. But as I reread the words, I noticed something else there ... FEAR. I realized that she seemed to be fearful. Maybe she was fearful of all the changes in her life now, or perhaps she was simply fearful of the public school system. I can't say exactly what her fears might have been, but I recognized her fearful state of mind.

I know all about fear. I have done many things in my life based on fear, including choosing my college degree. I knew what a teacher did and it was comfortable to imagine myself doing the same sort of work. I was fearful of choosing a different career ... what if I failed at that job, or didn't like it after I already earned the degree. And so, I chose the safe route. I became a teacher. Oddly enough, once I was in the classroom, I didn't really enjoy the work. I adore children, and I love learning. I do not, however, like attempting to teach a classroom of 25 pupils. And yet, for so long, I was fearful of doing anything else because of the unknown aspect.

I had so many fears.

I was fearful of moving away from my hometown. What if no one else liked me? What if all these people from my small little community like me because of who my family happens to be or because we go to church together?

I was fearful of putting my kids into public school for a myriad of reasons. What if my kids were teased or bullied? What if they had a bad teacher? What if they didn't get the best education? What if we lived in a school district that wasn't great?

I lived my life in fear. It wasn't a debilitating fear. I functioned fairly normally on a daily basis. But my deep-seated fears drove all of my decisions.

For my entire married life, I was extremely fearful of Matt leaving me. During that awful summer and fall when my marriage was ripping apart at the seams, I tried as hard as I could to keep him from leaving, to convince him to stay with me and the kids. Looking back, I can see that it was fear that drove how I responded to him. Nothing I did worked, and as it turned out, that great fear of mine came to pass. But ... and bear with me on this because it is hard to explain ... when he uttered those words, "I want a divorce. I want out of this marriage." there was this click in my heart. At that very moment, the biggest part of the fear was gone. The fear didn't totally go away at that moment and there were some times in the months ahead when I was extremely fearful. Yet, at that moment, it was as if deep down in my heart I knew I would survive this. This thing I had been fearing had actually happened and I hadn't fallen over dead.

I also knew that I was going to have swim or I would sink ... so right then and there, in that remote cabin in North Carolina, I made the decision to swim for Paige rather than to sink for Matt.

Let me make one thing clear ... I would have sunk WITH Matt. I would have fought for our marriage forever, with him fighting right next to me. But when he wanted out, when he refused to give me any hope of reconciliation, when he gave up the fight for us, then I began to refuse to sink for him. (I hope that makes sense. It's not a decision that I ever thought I'd have to make. However, we all know that a marriage is made up of two people ... and sadly when one person bails out of the marriage, the other will not be able to keep the marriage floating by themselves.)

Since that time, I've had to make a lot of decisions. I decided to return to work. Six weeks later, I decided to change careers. There have been other decisions, but these were the first big two. Making these and other big decisions has done several important things for me:

I've gained confidence in God and in His guidance offered to me. As my trust in Him has increased, my fear has decreased. I don't live in unhealthy fear anymore.

Those decisions were incredibly tough to make, but in the long run each one has helped me to move on in my life, process the grief and begin to refocus on my blessings. Learning to trust the Lord to help me make wise and good decisions has helped me to overcome the fear and to empower myself through Him.

I read an interesting quote tonight: We must give up the life we dreamed of in order to have the life that is before us.

No ... this isn't at all the life I dreamed of or planned for myself and my kids. I have lost a lot of my personal dreams ... dreams that I held dear to my heart. I no longer homeschool. I probably won't have the opportunity to live in a wide variety of places or travel the nation/world with as much ease as I did as a military spouse. I'm no longer a wife, serving my family. I am a single mom, and it is an incredibly tough job.

And yet, I can't sit around moaning about my life now. If I did that, I would not only have lost what I had then, I would be losing what I have now as well.

I know that the Lord does not intend for us to divorce our spouses. I would never ever recommend it to anyone. But it happened and with it my life changed. I could continue to sit in one spot, clinging to the little things of the past I could continue to grasp. Or I could step out in faith toward God and give myself fully to Him, even though I knew it would mean some dramatic changes. I'm glad I chose the latter, for even though life today certainly isn't a bed of roses, there is far too much right in my life for me not to embrace it with a heart of thanksgiving.

The thing about life is that it goes on every day. Good days, bad days, dark days, happy days ... life goes on. Joyous seasons, sad seasons, seasons of confusion ... life goes on. And really, when it boils down to the nitty-gritty day in and day out life, I'm incredibly blessed.

Every day I wake up to 3 beautiful children, who cause me to laugh and smile and occasionally pull my hair out. I have a cozy house with a beautiful view, a good job that pays me enough money to cover the bills without having to stress too much. My minivan is able to get me to work and home again every evening. The dog loves me and hates the cat, and the cat loves me and hates the dog ... that in itself reminds me that life is pretty much as it should be.

Day in and day out , life goes on. And, until the day I die, my life will go on. I can't choose much of what will happen to me while I'm living. But I can choose to live this life with a smile and a determination to love those around me. I can choose to enjoy every day. I can choose to be thankful for the blessings (both big and small) that touch my life. I can choose to wake up every morning and embrace life that day ... even if it is different from all the days before it. And, through Christ, I can live my life without fear.

Don't panic. I'm with you. There's no need to fear for I'm your God. I'll give you strength. I'll help you. I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you. (Isaiah 41:8)

Seventeen Years Ago Tomorrow

2010-09-03T14:37:00.001-05:00

Just a little over an hour ago, the date on the calendar beckoned to me and for the first time in a long, long while I remembered the significance of tomorrow. I scribbled numbers on paper and quickly worked out the math to figure out how many years had passed because I no longer remembered. Seventeen. I didn’t realize it had been that long ago now.

Seventeen years ago tomorrow, also on a Saturday, I was a bride.

It’s all packed away in a box now … the scrapbook filled with photos, some dried flowers from my bouquet, the white dress, a napkin embossed with two names and a date, cards and letters that span the fourteen years of life shared together now held together by a rubberband. I’m saving those things, not because I need that connection to my past, but because my children need it. Someday they will want to see it and touch it and remember that it wasn’t always broken. They will want to know of the beginning of the story, just as they know the ending.

Just last week, the oldest one asked, “Momma … do you miss Daddy?”

How can that question possibly be answered? There is a flood of history there that I cannot, I will not explain to my child … certainly not now. Too much for his small soul to bear. Too much for him to carry right now … maybe ever. Children are meant to love their parents, not to harbor uncertainties about actions that played out into events difficult for even mature adults to understand.

Besides … the memories of that life have become faded. It’s become harder to recall. And the fact remains that I do not miss their father anymore.

What I miss are snapshots of time … snippets of happiness and laughter that are emblazoned upon my mind.

What I miss is not having achieved what I wanted ... for myself and for my children and for my children's children. The legacy of togetherness. The celebration of something golden in the distant future with my children and my grandchildren all around.

What I miss are the possibilities … the hope of what it could have been.

No one plans to fail, but failing to plan often leads to failure. Life somehow happens and our best intentions are swept away. I never thought the ending would turn out as it did, and sometimes the regrets are so strong that I fear I cannot stand against the rushing tide.

I've learned in the past four years that when the waves of pain and regret hit hard, to simply pause and thank God for His mercy in my life, for forgiveness He so graciously spreads all over me, for second chances to try again. And the longer I stand in acceptance of Christ’s forgiveness and mercy, neither of which I deserve, the stronger I become, the easier it is to stand tall, the less overwhelming the pain becomes.

In the beginning of the end, someone I love very much told me that soon it wouldn’t consume my thoughts every hour of the day. She said that there would come a night when I would crawl into bed, realizing that the brokenness of my marriage had not been my main thought that day. She said that eventually I would realize that I hadn’t even thought of it at all for several days or weeks in a row. I could only nod my head in response, so deep in my grief that I could not begin to imagine that would ever be true for me.

I realized just over an hour ago that day has arrived … tiptoeing in without any fanfare, so quietly that I never even noticed. The end has been completed and the next chapter of my life is being written, with new hopes and new dreams for a very different future than one I had previously imagined.

And yet, even as I embrace my present life and anticipate my future, my past can never truly be erased. There are certainly many regrets, but I do not regret the life I’ve lived.

Because of seventeen years ago tomorrow, I have three children.

Because of seventeen years ago tomorrow, I have friends all over the United States.

Because of seventeen years ago tomorrow, I have fourteen years worth of life experiences to my credit.

Because of seventeen years ago tomorrow, I am who I am today … a better woman in the end for having walked that road.

And I am grateful for seventeen years ago tomorrow and what that has meant to me.

She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. Proverbs 31:25

Living Water

2010-08-30T16:02:00.003-05:00

If there is one form of fundraising that I find more bothersome than others, it would have to be when people stand in busy traffic intersections with collection buckets asking for donations. What used to be a once or twice a year occurrence for fire fighters to collection money in their boots for Jerry’s Kids has become a nearly every weekend ordeal for practically any group (from local youth groups and churches to unheard of charities) to raise money from unsuspecting motorists.

I am not against giving. In fact, I actively give to several organizations on a monthly basis, as well as look forward to giving my kids change to throw into Salvation Army kettles every Christmas season and participating in other regular times of giving for charities that I enjoy supporting. But unlike charity collections outside of stores where I can speed up my pace and walk quickly away, at intersections I am trapped until the light turns green and the car in front of me begins to move forward … stuck in my vehicle, with no method of escape possible. And, for someone like me who doesn’t like direct confrontation, the idea that I can’t politely say, “No thanks” and keep moving on is quite troublesome.

Furthermore, even if I do want to support the charity, quite often I am truly quite broke. I am unable to even give as much as a dime. It’s not because I am truly that poor. Rather, it’s because I just don’t ever carry a lot of cash with me as I am totally spoiled by my debit card. Besides, most of the cash and change I do have on hand is quickly snatched up by my children for canteen money at school or to put in the offering plate on Friday morning’s chapel service.

There I sit in my minivan with no money to give … and so begins the frantic game known as “trying not to make eye contact.”

As desperately as I am focused on trying to look straight ahead, the person with the bucket is focused on trying to get me to look their way. Of course, in all likelihood this person already knows that, despite my unswerving eyes, I see her. She knows because she can hear the three children in the back of the minivan yelling, “Hey, mom! That lady wants you to give her some money! She’s collecting for homeless orphan children in South America so that they can have Christmas presents this year. You are going to give her something, aren’t you?!”

It never fails that all the other drivers are shoving their hands through their windows, dropping bills and coins into the buckets. I begin to realize that once again I am the lone driver with the stingy, uncaring heart. Guilt creeps in and suddenly I feel like the most ungiving person to ever walk the face of the earth. It doesn’t matter that each of my children will fill a shoebox with gifts to send overseas through Operation Christmas Child, or that we support two little boys through Compassion International every month. I still feel as if I am neglecting to share my blessings with others. It’s as if the evidence of my Christian faith hangs on this one thread of whether or not I have given to this one group of people collecting money at this one intersection on this particular day.

So, much to my dismay, this past Saturday I spotted what seemed to be a relatively major charity collection on my way to Wal-Mart. It was too late for me to change directions when I saw a horde of people in orange t-shirts and hats, standing in the road. Tents were set up on either side of the roadway, with stacks of ice chests placed all around. I could tell that these folks were planning on staying quite a while. Big banners proclaimed that this was the work of a local church.

I also noticed that this group was rather bold. They were actually flagging down cars and leaning into open windows. Fairly quickly I realized that these people they were handing out bottles of water to each vehicle that stopped. I huffed inwardly, seething at the very idea of this local congregation “selling” bottles of water for a donation to their church.

I tried to steel myself against letting my window down. I was determined to look straight ahead. My kids begin to clamor for me to give the man some money. As I used my review mirror to look back at my three kids and explain why I wasn’t going to give the nice man any of my money, I heard a knock on my car window.

Why, the audacity of that man! I was fuming now … but I rolled down my window and prepared myself to say a very firm, “No, thank you.”

He leaned in and said, “It’s a hot day, isn’t it? We’ve got some water here. Can we give you some? There’s no strings attached … just some free water on a hot day.”

Julia, who was sitting closest to the window, said quickly, “Oh, thank you! I am so thirsty!” From the back seat I heard one of my boys say, “There are four of us and we all like to drink water!”

The man laughed and said, “Hey … I need four bottles of water!” Very quickly another man ran over with four nice cold bottles of water and passed them through the window.

The first man said, “We just want you to know that just as cold water refreshes us on a hot day, the Living Water of God will refresh our souls. God loves you! Have a great weekend!”

And with that, before I could even mutter my thanks, they had moved on to the car behind me.

As I slowly drove away, it felt as if burning coals were being heaped upon my head. I heard words echoing in my soul:

Judge not, and you will not be judged … Matthew 7:1 and Luke 6:37.

Do not judge by appearances … John 7:24.

Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things … Romans 2:1-3.

But who are you to judge your neighbor? … James 4:12

Meanwhile, my kids were happily sucking down their bottled water. Joel announced, “Mmmmm! That’s some great water! Probably because it’s Christian water… right, Mom?!”

Somehow, I could not help but think that Joel was partly right. Oh, I know there wasn’t anything special about the bottles of water given to us on that hot August afternoon. But they were given with the right spirit … a spirit of love.

Soon some new words sang out in my heart, reminding me of truths I know but so often forget to put into practice …

And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them …Luke 6:31.

For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” …Galatians 5:14.

These people had volunteered to stand out in a busy intersection on a sultry summer day for no other reason than to remind others in a very tangible way that God is love. No preaching involved. No requests to come to services at their church. No expectations for monetary donations. Nothing but sincerely showing God’s love to others … with no strings attached.

I think that perhaps what I need most of all is a little more of that Living Water living inside of me.

Make Yourself At Home

2010-08-16T06:20:00.003-05:00

For the past couple of years, my life has felt slightly unsettled, as if I am just waiting around for something new to happen. The first 18 months following the death of my marriage three years ago, I mourned and grieved and literally focused on taking one breath at a time as I tried to figure out how to live again. Then one day I realized that I had entered a new phase, for I was no longer walking around in a haze of grief. Joy and peace had returned to my life once again. And there was something new ... hope. I hadn't felt hope in a long time, but there is was and I was so happy to discover that glimmering friend again.

Hope brought an interesting response from me. As I began to hope, I began to dream again. And as I dreamed big dreams for my future, I began to feel as if I were waiting ... waiting on those dreams to become reality. It doesn't so much matter what the dreams are, for there are several dreams for my future that I hold dear to my heart. What does matter is that I put myself in a holding pattern while I was waiting and hoping for my future, instead of embracing what my life is right now.

I will be the first to admit that waiting can be a good thing. After all, when we wait for something that we really desire, it is all the more precious to us when it finally is ours because of the wait that we endured. But waiting can also cause us to become inactive participants in life. Such was the case with me.

This past Saturday morning I had a big ole self-pity party going on before I ever even crawled out of bed. I was fighting off a lot of negative emotions, one of which was a feeling of being unsettled in my life. I cannot fully describe all of the ways that I feel unsettled .... there is my job and the sporadic childcare that I've had since I moved last summer. But perhaps one of the biggest reason for the unsettled feeling is the lack of close friends in the area that I am living currently. This is odd to me, for as a former military spouse I moved frequently. I have friends from every military installation where my ex-husband was stationed. I never had a problem finding friends, and have many close friends from those places. I cherish those friends who live in Virginia, Michigan, Washington and Texas. Obviously, though, all of these close friends live a little too far away to call up for a spur of the moment lunch invitation.

I've lived on both coasts and quite a few states in between, and yet by far the move I made last summer from my hometown to my current home in Jena (a mere 30 miles apart) has been the hardest move I've ever made out of 16 moves in my adult life. It's been 15 months since I unpacked the boxes in my new home, and I still cannot seem to find my legs here. I have no doubt about the fact that God wanted me to move to Jena. It's very clear that I was called to come live in this place for this season of my life. Truly, there is so much that I enjoy about life here. I love my little house. I go to a wonderful church. My kids attend a great school. I think Jena is a sweet and safe town. And I have many wonderful acquaintances that I've grown to love ... yet I do not have a single close friendship in this place, and as a result, I feel unsettled and a little lonely.

So Saturday morning, I complained to God about the lack of friends and the loneliness and the unsettled feeling I have about living here. And do you know how He responded? He said:

"Paige, I do not think people who have yet to hang up curtains should complain about feeling unsettled."

Me: "What do curtains have to do with me feeling unsettled?"

God: "You've lived in your home well over a year now. You haven't hung up any curtains. Are you planning to stay? Generally, when people plan to stay, they hang up curtains."

Me: "Well ... I'm not planning to go."

God: "That's not what I asked. I asked if you were planning to stay."

Me: "Okay ... here's the deal. My job isn't here. Child care has been sporadic and undependable. And I don't have any friends here. I keep pushing on doors and pushing on doors and pushing on doors ... but none of them open. And as a result, I don't feel settled. Why should I hang up curtains? What does that have to do with anything anyway?"

God: "The truth is, Paige, that you don't know how much longer you will be here ... it could be 2 days, 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years or 2 decades. It really doesn't matter. I asked you to come here and live. So live here ... make yourself at home, Paige. Hang a few curtains."

So, I lay there and pondered curtains and why I hadn't yet hung any. There were a few good reasons. (Well, reasons anyway. I suppose that it could be debated over whether or not they were good reasons.) On reason was that I had never hung curtains before and I wasn't really sure I knew how. I mean, I knew that it couldn't be that hard to hang up curtains, but what if I hung them wrong. What if they were crooked and people came over to my house and laughed at my curtains hanging over the windows because they weren't even? Besides, I didn't even own a drill, for Pete's sake! How could I hang up curtains without a drill? And finally, what if I went to the store, selected some curtains for my windows, came home and hung them up and then hated the way they looked ... why, it would be a lot of money down the drain! I don't have a lot of money. It is just easier to have bare windows than to risk failure.

Somehow though, I realized that this really wasn't about curtains. It was about me choosing to LIVE my life, instead of simply BIDING my time.

As a Christian, I know that this world is not my home. My final destination is heaven. I long for heaven and to be with my Saviour. But we can't just sit around waiting for God to take us home. In fact, Jesus warned us about that in the parable about the talents, which is found in Matthew 25. When Christ returns, He wants to find that we have been busy working for His kingdom ... not that we have been sitting around awaiting His return. So as much as I want to go to heaven and live in paradise, while I am on this earth I need to be about the Father's business.

Mercy Me has a new album titled The Generous Mr. Lovewell that I've been enjoying lately. The first song is called This Life, and the lyrics have been haunting me for the past couple of weeks, encouraging me to make the most of my life ... make the most of where I am at right now. Perhaps you'll be encouraged by these words too:

This Life by Mercy Me
This is not my home ... this is not my space
This is not my style ... this is not my place
Can't get comfortable... can't get settled in
Simply dont belong ... can't get used to this
But I'm here right now ... I can hear you say
Make the most of Me ... this won't go to waste
If I'm out of my mind .... yeah it's all for Christ
If I'm making sense ...then get it right
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine

I don't have to stall ... I don't have to wait
Don't have to bide my time ... till I make my escape
Cuz heaven's in my heart ... I won't settle for less
I will lift your name ... by the life I live
Every moment is a chance to let your light break through
This life (oh oh oh oh)
This life was meant to shine

By the way, I hung some curtains this weekend. I'm feeling more settled already for I'm planning to do more than bide my time ... I'm planning to stay. It may only be for a short while longer or it could be for years and years to come, but let it be said that while I was here I chose to live, and I didn't just wait.

Thoughts On Becoming Better

2010-08-14T09:49:00.001-05:00

My feet hadn’t even touched the floor and already I felt it creeping around inside of me. Bitterness ... my old friend. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see that monster waltzing out from the dark recesses of my mind, but there it was dancing across my heart as the morning sun skipped along the walls of my bedroom.

I was feeling sad at prospect of a lonely weekend. My children were gone with their father ... and I was jealous because he gets to be the fun parent. I lay there contemplating how all weekend he will get to do wonderful things with them that I cannot, and before long I was rehashing in my mind the story of how my life fell apart at the seams. Though it wasn’t a pleasant way to start my day, I couldn’t seem to stop the endless parade of thoughts. Soon my mind was reeling over the unfairness of how my life has turned out to be, and I was wallowing in the mud and muck of my own self-pity.

Bitterness always starts small. A fleeting thought about a wrong done to us, and if it isn’t stopped soon it will begin to gnaw away at your soul little by little. It feels rotten, and yet somehow embracing the bitterness is easier than pushing it away. I am often unwilling to let go of the unpleasantness of the bitterness in order to exchange it for something sweeter in my life.

Bitterness hurts, for it strips a person of all that they are and all that they could be, sucking them until they are nothing but a dry and brittle shell, unable to feel much of anything other than bitterness itself. As bitterness takes hold in the garden of our hearts, it begins to blossom into thorny plants, threatening to uproot compassion and gentleness, kindness and mercy ... and love, for in the end bitterness takes away our ability to love.

Bitterness that is allowed to mature takes away the tenderness of a person’s heart and soul turns it into a hardened place that nothing can penetrate. A hardened heart is not a beautiful thing. The sharp, jagged edges wound everyone around us ... even those that we want to love. Oddly enough, we usually begin to first feel bitter when someone that we love and care about wounds us. We think on how it is unfair or how we were mistreated, and as we lick our personal hurts and wounds, the bitterness begins to settle down deep in our hearts.

As I sit here this morning, trying to battle the bitter thoughts threatening to creep in along with the pale sunlight and dance in my heart the way the shadows of the leaves are dancing across my bed, I am reminded of a conversation that I had with the Lord in the early days after my marriage first began to crumble. It went something like this:

Me: Lord, this hurts so bad! I am so angry and so bitter! How can I possibly feel better?

God: Start by taking the “I” out of bitter.

Me: What do you mean, “take the ‘I’ out of bitter?”

God: This isn’t about you, so don’t make it all about you. If you make it about you, focusing on how you were wronged and on everything bad that happened to you, then you will only become bitter. The first step to getting better is to take yourself out of the center of the situation.

Me: Well how do I do that? It sure feels like it is about me! I am the one who got left high and dry. I am the one left standing here in the middle of this pile of rubble that used to be my marriage. I don’t see how I can make this not about me. How do I even begin to do that, Lord? Show me!

God: Replace the “I” that you removed with an “E”.

Me: I need you to explain this God ... I’m not seeing it.

God: The “E” is for exalt, Paige. If you exalt me, then I become the center. When I become the center, then you will be a better person ... not a bitter person.

Me: So what you are saying is that if I choose to praise you in the middle of the bad situation ... in the middle of my hurt and my pain ... then I will not grow bitter. Are you saying that the more I praise you, the better I will feel?

God: Exactly.

After that conversation, this verse was given to me: "The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation. He is my God, and I will praise Him, my father’s God, and I will exalt Him." ~Exodus 15:2

Just thinking about that revelation brings a smile to my face, for really that was perhaps the turning point for me on a long and painful road. And yet, I realize this morning that my heart is about as dry as the ground where the flowers are trying to grow in my front yard. I’ve been making my life about me again lately, and the danger in doing that is always the same ... growing a hard, bitter heart that thinks only about oneself. As long as I am focused on me and my hurts or feelings or longings, I can never be a blessing to anyone else.

As I lay in my bed this morning, trying to fight away the bitterness and talking to God about how I wanted to choose today to be a better woman instead of the bitter one, God saw fit to reveal a few more “E’s” that I can use to replace the “I.”

Bitterness usually begins when my expectations for how I should be treated by another person are not met. Therefore, even as I expect others to treat me fairly, I should put for some EFFORT in treating others well. This is simply what I know as the golden rule: "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets." (Matthew 7:12)

God also showed me that another way to ward off bitterness is to be an ENCOURAGER to those around you. Paul wrote, “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” (1 Thess. 5:11) As you encourage someone else, you take the focus off of yourself ... which means that you are no longer inwardly turned but are thinking of someone other than yourself. The more we take ourselves off center-stage, the less likely we are to feel bitter.

Finally, God showed me that if I EXTEND myself, and go beyond what I normally do to be an EXAMPLE of God’s love to others I will overcome bitterness. Showing love to others should be one of the biggest goals every Christian has in life. In John 13:34, we read these words, “A new command I give you: Love one another.” I cannot share God’s love when I am thinking only of me and how I feel or what I need. So, by changing my focus away from self, I become less likely to be consumed by those negative feelings (such as bitterness), and I am able to share God’s love with those in my life.

My prayer today is that the Lord would help me to make the effort to be an encourager and an example of God’s love each day, and that I would seek to exalt Him even when I feel discouraged.

See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many. ~Hebrews 12:15

What can I Give?

2009-12-17T06:25:00.001-06:00

I saw this on the KLOVE blog this morning ... and it reminded me, yet again, of how easy it is to give to others without ever spending a cent. I love to open presents and packages, but really these gifts are the ones that mean the most for these are gifts of the heart.

Give the Gift of Listening – Really listen. No interrupting, no daydreaming, no planning your response. Just listening.

Give the Gift of Affection – Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handholds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends.

Give the Gift of Laughter – Clip cartoons, share articles, funny stories, and a good joke. Your gift will say, “I love to laugh with you.”

Give the Gift of a Written Note – It can be a simple “Thanks for the help” note or an “I appreciate you” note. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime, and may even change a life.

Give the Gift of a Compliment – Everyone needs encouragement. Mark Twain said, “One compliment can keep me going for a whole month.”

Give the Gift of a Favor – Go out of your way to do something kind for someone.

Give the Gift of Solitude – There are times when we want nothing more than to have some peace and quiet. Be sensitive to those times, and give the gift of solitude to others.

Give the Gift of a Cheerful Disposition – The easiest way to feel good is to extend a kind word to someone. It’s not hard to be polite and courteous, to say “hello” or “thank you.”

Christmas Letter 2009

2009-12-11T15:08:00.000-06:00

Dear Family and Friends,

C is for this Christmas letter. After The Great Christmas Card Fiasco of 2008 (which you might recall was the year of the photo card with no photo), I felt a little challenged to come up with something as creative and out of the box as last year’s card. So the kids and I have decided to spell out CHRISTMAS for our friends and family, as we share with you some of the highlights of 2009.

H is for the new home we bought in June. We now live in a cute, white house in Jena, Louisiana. We love our little abode, and everyone has their favorite thing about our new living quarters. Julia loves her butterfly-themed bedroom. Nathan likes the big glassed-in porch that we’ve converted to a playroom. Joel loves all the built-in bookcases that we have filled with books. And I love the blueberry bushes that I discovered in the side yard. We hope to have lots of visitors in our home in 2010!

R is for a house of readers. Now that all three children can read on their own, I’ve learned one very important lesson ... Christmas shopping lists must be well-hidden! Actually, I'm simply grateful that my three little readers still enjoy having their mother read aloud to them before bedtime every night. This past year we read over 25 chapter books together. Our favorite book from 2009 was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl ... and we all agreed that the book is MUCH better than the movie!

I is for interesting adventures. In the fall of 2009, the children took an airplane trip with their dad ... the first plane ride that any of them can remember. Other interesting adventures this past year included raising baby chicks, learning to ride a horse (Joel), learning to shoot a gun (Nathan), and learning to swim without floaties (Julia).

S is for school. This year Joel (3rd grade), Nathan (2nd grade) and Julia (1st grade) go to a new school … Temple Christian Academy. All three kids are honor roll students, which makes their mom really proud. And I have also returned to school this year, finally beginning to work on that Master’s degree. So far, I’ve earned all A’s in the classes I’ve taken, though I must admit that my children don’t seem especially proud of this accomplishment. They just seem to think it is really funny that I have to do homework, too.

T is for Terry and Thompson … Paige Terry and her three beautiful Thompson children! After much thought and prayer and discussion with my children, I’ve decided to return to using my maiden name. What we’ve learned as a family is a really simple lesson ... even though our names may change, our love for each other doesn't.

M is for many activities. Life with three growing kids keeps me busy! Joel rides horses each week, while Nathan has taken art lessons and Julia enjoys dancing, gymnastics and clogging classes. In addition, the boys played Upwards soccer and basketball, Julia was a little cheerleader at school, and all the kids participated in the children’s activities at church (GA’s, RA’s and children’s choir programs). Even though I often feel like I meet myself coming and going, I wouldn’t trade this time for the world, for if I’ve learned anything as a mom it is that the days are long but the years are short!

A is for accomplishments! This past year Joel won the Catahoula Parish Math Bee for his grade level for the second year running, Nathan had his very first art show and Julia began to receive regular visits from the tooth fairy. One thing about children is that they grow up very quickly ... it seems like yesterday Joel was learning to count to 10, Nathan only made scribbles with crayons and Julia was a toothless baby girl! As much as I miss those precious baby years, I’m so thrilled to see the people my children are growing up to be.

And finally ...

S is for our Savior’s birth … the real reason we celebrate this time of year. The Bible tells us that His name shall be called Emmanuel, which means God with us. Our family’s prayer for you is that in 2010 you will know the perfect peace of having God With You each and every day!

With love and joy,
Paige, Joel, Nathan and Julia

Life Without TV

2009-10-02T22:52:00.001-05:00

I am not a TV watcher. I haven't been watching TV for close to 2 years now. It's not the I've never watched TV at all. I'll watch sometimes if I am my parents' house and the TV is on, and I do regular movie and popcorn nights on the weekends with my children. But by and large, I just don't watch TV.

But my children watched TV. They watched a lot of TV ... though it wasn't always that way. Back when they were tiny and I homeschooled, the TV stayed off in our home a large portion of every day. In fact, I had this rule that if we weren't actually watching a show, the TV had to be off. No TV for background noise. But after I went back to work two years ago, that slowly began to change. It was easy to know that when I came in and was so tired and had so much to do that the TV would help me entertain them. Soon, the TV was on from the time the kids came in from school until I fed them supper ... and often even after supper. And since school started back in August, the TV was on from 3:30 until 8:00 pm, when I read aloud to them just prior to bedtime. Far too much TV for growing minds and bodies!

This past summer I started feeling somewhat convicted about how much TV my kids were watching and the kinds of shows they were watching. Julia was turning into a little Hannah Montana and Nathan was all about the antics of Zack and Cody. And I had to ask myself if these were really the kind of role models I wanted for my children? Joel became truly addicted to the weather channel, so much so that if he went 15 minutes without checking the weather he would start to panic about the possibility of storms or flash floods or tornadoes. Life was becoming more and more and more centered around TV.

I talked my children about only watching certain shows until I was blue in the face, but to no avail. They still found ways to sneak in the shows I didn't want them viewing. It was getting to be a bad situation. I felt like the TV ruled my home, and I felt sort of hopeless as to how to correct it. The moment it all hit rock bottom was when I found out that both of my boys were lying to me about doing their homework because they didn't want to have to miss any of their "favorite" shows.

This week, I took charge of my house again. I put our TV into time out. It's gone. We went cold turkey. No TV ... none. Yes, my kids cried about how unfair it was. But I have been hard-hearted. No. TV.

We are three days into life with no TV. Today no one has even asked to watch TV. (I did allow Joel to watch some Schoolhouse Rock while he laid on the couch this morning, but after that he kept the TV off and this afternoon the other two haven't even seemed interested in TV.) They are playing with their toys and talking to me and spending time out in our yard kicking their soccer ball, riding the scooter and playing with the dog.

The last 3 days I have noticed:

less sibling fighting
more cooperation
children who are quicker to obey
a sense that there is more time to our afternoon/evening
lots more laughing and smiling

My home feels so much more peaceful. I'm glad we've made this change. Do I expect we'll never ever watch TV again? Probably not. I'm sure on weekends we'll continue to watch a movie as a family. We like our popcorn and movie nights. And perhaps we'll make exceptions to watch TV ... maybe as a special reward for good behavior or as an occasional treat. But my prayer is to never ever let the TV rule my home again.

Confessions of an Imperfect Mom

2009-09-29T20:40:00.000-05:00

I am not June Cleaver.

I am not Carol Brady.

I am not Claire Huxtable.

I am not Caroline Ingalls or Olivia Walton.

I am not a perfect mother. Much to my own disappointment, I never will be.

So often I compare myself to other moms, and feel like a failure.

I think about my friends who make all their meals from scratch, only serve only healthy foods, and allow sweets only on special occasions. I feel like a failure in comparison because I pass out cookies left and right, and we consider it a healthy meal if I have a veggie on their plates. I have quit trying to read the "here's what I'm cooking for supper" status updates on Facebook because when I read things such as "Tonight's supper is Mahi Mahi with mango chutney" my heart sinks. I wouldn't even know how to begin to make mango chutney and the only time I have ever eaten Mahi Mahi was when I went out to fancy restaurant without my children. To loosely quote my friend Lisa Koleszar, in my house "we are quite familiar with Chef Boyardee. Perhaps you know him too. He mostly makes Italian dishes."

I think about my friends who have taught their children to do amazing things by the age of 10. Their kids are unloading the dishwasher at age 4 and cooking lunches for the family at age 8. Before their teen years, the kids are pretty much self-sufficient people who can do laundry, manage their money and run the house without any adult assistance. My 9 year old still struggles to make his own peanut butter sandwich and tie his shoes. My kids fold the towels, but it looks really sloppy so if I am having guests come over I go back and refold them so it looks a little more presentable. My children are far from being self-sufficient. I figure I'll be lucky if they are able to move out and survive on their own when it is time for them to go to college.

I have other friends who run their households like little army units. Schedules are amazingly tight and precise. The house is always immaculate. The children always look like they are dressed for a magazine photo shoot ... not a trace of dirt under their fingernails, every hair combed to perfection. My kids usually have traces of food on their faces and I feel good if they are wearing clothing without stains and socks that match. And mostly, I just hope that if someone pops in for an unexpected visit, that the bathroom looks halfway decent and that the last one in remembered to flush the toilet.

Then I have these mom friends who give their children amazing opportunities. Their children play 2 musical instruments, take dance or drama or voice lessons ... or maybe all three! They play baseball in the spring and soccer in the fall. The family goes on amazing trips and vacations, tying in fun with learning. I try to involve my children in one extra-curricular activity, but it is often hard for me to juggle too many different schedules so I'll put all of my kids into the same activity and request that they all play on the same team. And while we love to travel, it's not something we can afford to do very often. The last real vacation we took was two years ago this month. I'm not sure that Julia can even remember it. Maybe next summer ...

Yes, when I compare myself to my friends, I feel like perhaps I'm the worst mother ever.

My friend Barb Cash is known for often stating that "Comparison is the death of contentment." How true it is! I compare myself to others until I've convinced myself that I'm not a worthy mother. And what a lie! No, I'm not perfect. I have many flaws and makes a multitude of mistakes. But I'm not a bad mom either. You see ...

I'm the kind of mom who will stop and smell the roses.

I'll stop to take my kids on a scarecrow walk around the town just because everyone is enjoying seeing the scarecrows scenes as we were driving home. It won't matter that there are groceries in the car or that it was already past lunch time. We will still stop to enjoy the moment. We'll take lots of walks around the block and stop every few feet to examine ants or watch a bird or try to catch a cricket. Life's not a race, but rather something we like to savor together.

I'm the kind of mom who loves to say YES.

My children know that if they ask politely, I'm likely to say yes to buying ICEES at Walmart or to dessert after supper, though it will probably just be ice cream without the homemade apple pie. I love to say yes to movie nights and game nights and requests for fish sticks for dinner.

I'm the kind of mom who loves to break routine and schedule from time to time.

I love to read my children just one more chapter when they beg me to keep on reading, even though it is already 5 minutes past bedtime. Heck, I'm the kind of mom that puts the kids in bed, only to get them back up 10 minutes later so that I can take them out for ice cream at Sonic in their PJ's! Don't get me wrong ... I have a schedule that I try my best to keep, but sometimes life is more fun when you throw schedules to the wind!

I'm the kind of mom who isn't worried about a little dirt and thinks that nature is pretty cool.

Not only is it okay for my children to play in the rain, but it is fine for them to go stomping through the mud puddles as well. My children and I stop to rescue turtles from the middle of the road, keep the frogs and toads that we find as pets and eat our PB&J sandwiches on quilts in the yard on pretty spring afternoons while we listen to the birds sweetly sing about summer.

I'm the kind of mom who doesn't freak out easily.

Perhaps one of the biggest compliments my children ever gave me was when Joel got red marker all over his white school uniform shirt. His teacher was worried, but Joel said, "It's okay, Mrs. Roberts. My mom is pretty cool about stuff like this because she knows I'm a kid. She'll just tell me to be more careful next time."

I'm the kind of mom who cherishes creativity and loves to learn.

Glue and scissors and crayons and paints are not just welcome in our home ... we use them often! My kids and I work together to make things like superhero masks out of felt which we glue together with the help of a hot glue gun. I let my children decorate birthday cakes, create new recipes, and try out amazing science experiments. I love it when my kids ask a questions and I don't know the answer, because that means that we will discover it together! The library and the internet are our friends, and one of my hopes is that my children will grow up to be life long learners.

I'm the kind of mom who thinks childhood is a pretty special time and it passes by far too quickly.

The truest parenting truth that I've ever heard is this: the days are long but the years are short. I've been determined to not rush my children through childhood, but rather let them enjoy these precious years to the fullest. If anything, I'm probably guilty of babying my children far too long.

I am definitely not a perfect mom. I will never be. And oddly enough, when I truly stop to think about it, I'm actually thankful that I'm not perfect and that I make plenty of parenting mistakes. It is those mistakes that make me depend all the more on God's grace. I read a quote this week that I just love: "God spreads grace like a 4 year old spreads peanut butter. He gets it all over everything!" OH, how I need that kind of grace, especially when it comes to parenting.

Father God, my prayer for today and for tomorrow and for all the tomorrows yet to come is that You will supply enough grace to cover up each of my short-comings as a mother, and that through You all of my weaknesses will be made strong. Amen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PS: If any of my friends see themselves in the "perfect moms," please know how much I love you and how much I respect your mothering! You keep right on doing what you are doing because you do it so well! It's what makes you a great mom, too. :)

The Most Splendiforous Birthday Ever!

2009-09-18T06:55:00.002-05:00

Today marks the start of another year of my life. This past year was a year of healing. God has been doing some interesting work in my heart and in my life ... showing me who I am in Him and allowing me to see myself in a different way.

Part of that growth has been learning how to mesh all these feminine desires in my heart with the truth the God is, in fact, the ultimate Lover of my soul. No one, no single friend, and certainly not one man on this earth, is capable of knowing me as intimately or loving me as deeply as my Savior. Today, God showed me just how much He loves me and knows my heart.

It started with my precious children decorating me a beautiful cake, giving me cards with sweet sentiments and giving me a beautiful heart-shaped necklace.

After I got to work, the secretary in my office revealed that she had made me a Mississippi Mud cake ... one of my very favorite kinds of cakes. Let me tell you ... it was delicious, too! YUMMY!

Before long, my dad came walking in my office with a card and a nice box of chocolates. Oh, my goodness! It was so unexpected! My dad hadn't been gone long when a beautiful bouquet of flowers was delivered to the office for me. It was a pretty white basket filled with pink and purple and white flowers. So cheery and happy. It made my day. I know this is unusual, but I've never gotten flowers before, so I was simply stunned to get some today. I wasn't expecting flowers, but my sweet sister sent them to me and I can't possibly think of a better gift!

So there it was before lunch time and I had already gotten jewelry, chocolates and flowers ... I felt like God was out to meet every feminine desire of my heart! I couldn't imagine the day getting any better.

However, there was a co-worker who bought me lunch, a couple of phone calls from sweet friends, an e-card and a few messages on facebook during the afternoon.

Perhaps the most touching gift was a card I got in the mail today. A friend of mine sent me a card that she had "recycled." It was originally a birthday card sent to her by my grandmother several years ago, so it had my grandmother's signature on it underneath the verse on the card. Can I just say it was like this amazing hug from my beloved grandmother?! I miss her so much and that gesture just brought tears to my eyes this evening. (Mrs. Jean E wrote a nice little birthday message to me on the other side.)

I had several other birthday cards in the mail ... two in particular had meaningful Bible verses written out for me. And there was a small package in my mailbox containing the sweetest bracelet. It was from Josephine, and it matched the earrings she gave me for my last birthday.

What a wonderful birthday! I feel so celebrated and loved tonight. But mostly, I'm just in awe that even though I'm a single mom of three kids, I've got the most amazing Lover, who knows my soul inside and out and cherishes me in ways that make me feel incredible!

I'm an extremely blessed woman. And today was the absolutely the most splendiforous birthday I have ever had! (Thanks, Amanda, for the inspiring adjective to describe this one-of-a-kind birthday.) I think 37 is going to be incredible!

Eight Years Ago ...

2009-09-14T21:58:00.001-05:00

I'm remembering today ...

Remembering what my children cannot recall.

Remembering what I sometimes wish I could forget.

Remembering the innocent lives lost.

Remembering the bravery shown.

Remembering how life was before 9/11/01.

It's hard to believe it has been eight years now ... eight years since the terrorist attack on our nation that brought down the Twin Towers, four airplanes filled with innocent people, damaged the Pentegon and caused our nation to fall to its knees.

Memories are a good thing … a treasure and a gift from God. Throughout the Bible, God instructs His people to remember. He told them to build monuments in memory of an event and to pass on the memories to the younger generations. So pausing on days like today and thinking about what happened is good for our souls, even though ...

Sometimes memories are painful. We think about what has happened and realize that our hearts are still a little raw and sore … that there are places in our soul that need still need a little healing. We are perhaps taken back by the sting of remembering ... caught unaware by the flood of emotions that comes tumbling out once again.

As painful as remembering might be, I have also found it to be true that the more we remember, the easier it is to see how the blessings have flowed out of what was so terrible. And somehow, when we see and acknowledge the blessings that came about as a result of the awful and unimaginable, those raw and tender places begin to heal. Out of that healing comes peace with the past and fear is put to rest.

It's hard to believe it has been eight years now ...

I'm remembering today ... for as painful as it sometimes is to remember, it would be more painful to forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How many songs can I sing to proclaim your wondrous love and beauty so great?
What would I say if you brought down the rain and everyday
I walk through the pain my heart would still say…
Your name is Jesus. Your name is Jesus.
You’re the Wonderful, Counselor, my Friend.
You’re what I hold on to; I know that you brought me through
All the days of loss, to the cross
you knew ... I’d need a Savior.

lyrics to "I'd Need a Savior" by Among the Thirsty

A Dinner-time Conversation

2009-09-14T21:57:00.003-05:00

Tonight at supper, I asked the kids to tell me about school.

Julia said, "I'm the prayer this week." This means she gets to pray at the start of school each morning and again at lunch time. She told me that today she prayed that KayTee and Poppa (my parents) would come visit us soon. I'm sure that all of first grade was grateful for her prayer.

Nathan shared next, saying that Mrs. Roberts had to spend "at least 20 minutes every single day fussing at the same people for the same things." I told him that I was well aware of how poor Mrs. Roberts must feel. Knowing Nathan the way I do, I'm very sure he is part of the "same people" that are doing the "same things" every day. Poor Mrs. Roberts! I feel for her. I really do.

Then it was Joel's turn. He announced, "Momma, there is this girl in my class and I'm scared of saying her last name. I just can't say it. It's too close to a really bad word! So I just call her Megan. I hope she doesn't mind that I never say her last name."

I was reassuring him that I'm sure Megan didn't mind if he only called her Megan, when Nathan piped in and said, "Aren't you curious as to what her last name is, Momma? I know you are! I can tell you her last name without saying the bad word. Her name starts with a B, but if you took the B away it would the same word that means a donkey or a butt."

I said, "Oh, her last name is Bass?"

Joel yelled, "Shhhhh! Momma! It's just too close to saying something ugly! You might accidently say it wrong and then you would have cussed!"

Nathan said, "Yep. That's why we just all call her 'Catfish.' "

Joel added, "Do you get it? Catfish and her last name are both kinds of fish. We all call her 'Catfish' so we don't accidently leave off the B in her last name."

I told them that I was really sort of confused as to how one could accidently leave off the B in a person's last name. It just seemed highly unlikely to me and that I didn't think they should be scared of saying her last name.

Meanwhile, Julia (who has been off in her own little 6 year old world of carrot sticks and ranch dressing) suddenly asks, "Wait! Megan means donkey?! I didn't know that! I didn't know Megan was a bad word. How come some little girls are named bad words?!"

And so, round two of really insane dinner-time conversations begins ...

After a few more minutes of this rather ridiculous topic, I announced, "This conversation is over! I think it is best for all of you to just call Megan by her first name. I seriously doubt she minds. I also advice you all not to call her 'Catfish' anymore, as that isn't really a compliment and I'm sure most little girls would rather not be nicknamed after such an ugly fish. I'm sure she'd just rather you call her Megan and leave it at that."

Next time, I will definitely think twice before I ask my children what is going on at school!

God Is ...

2009-09-14T21:57:00.001-05:00

I spent several weeks in August defining myself. Those essays were a response to an assignment given to me by my counselor. Coming up with ten definitions for myself was challenging and hard. I had to dig deep. I spent a lot of time in prayer, asking God to show me things about myself. And it was worth the effort.

However, that assignment had two parts, the second of which was to come up with ten things that I knew personally to be true about God. In other words, I am to make my top ten “God is …” list. This past week, I’ve been seeking and searching out for the truths I know about God. It’s so much easier to tell what I know to be true about God … He is faithful, He is good, He is merciful, He is forgiving, etc. That list could go on and on and on. There are so many, many truths about God … far beyond ten!

I’ve been praying that God would give me some deep and personal truths about Himself. The list that follows is the result of that prayer. Over the past week, God’s spoken to my heart and allowed me to discover some various parts of who He is … some of which are things I have known but forgotten and some are things that I have long believed but perhaps need to acknowledge more in my life.

With that said, here is my list:

Ten Things That Paige Terry Knows To Be True About God:

1. God is not human. (Isaiah 55:8)

I sometimes think about God as having human attributes. I say that God is good or faithful. And those things are true, but yet it isn’t. I’m thinking of good as in a human is good. I’m thinking of faithful as in the way that I’m faithful. God is far beyond that for His goodness, faithfulness, kindness, love, etc is not anything like that of a human. He is God and His ways are not my ways. I will never begin to fathom or grasp an understanding of all God is for He is much greater than my small insignificant human self can possibly imagine. And yet …

2. God longs for me to know Him. (Matthew 7:7)

God reveals Himself to us through His creation, His Son and His word, among other things. If we seek Him, we will find Him. We can know that God wants us to know Him because …

3. God knows me more intimately than I even know myself. (Psalm 139:13; Luke 12:7)

Not only does God want for me to know Him, but He knows me intimately. The Bible tells me that He knows the number of hairs on my head! Truly, God knows me better than I know myself, and there is a security in that. I’ve seen this quote before but it fit perfectly with this thought: “Jesus loves me, this I know ... Jesus KNOWS me, this I love!” And because God knows us intimately …

4. God wants to give me the desires of my heart. (Psalm 37:4)

God knows me so well that He knows the burning desires I have … the secret longings and dreams, my hopes and plans. And not only does He know those things, but He longs to bless me with them. I can lay those things before Him as an offering, and trust that my desires are safe in His care because I also know that …

5. God has good plans for my future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

As I think ahead to the rest of my life, I can know that God has plans for me. He isn’t through with me yet and He wants me to know that He has my best interest at heart. Sometimes I don’t get the desires of my heart. But even then, I can trust that God has something far better than my selfish wants in mind for me. And when the hard times come (because hard times are going to come in this earthly life), I know that …

6. God blesses me, especially in the midst of trials and troubles. (Psalm 23: 5)

Two years ago, on a bright fall day in Blowing Rock, North Carolina, I sat with my sweet friend Josephine. My husband had just declared he no longer wanted to be married to me, and that furthermore marrying me was a mistake from the start. He claimed to have never loved me. My heart was shattered. I felt numb … as if I were just moving through the motions of living. As far as I was concerned, my life was over. I recall thinking that it was so ironic that my life began in North Carolina in the fall, and that it was ending in North Carolina in the fall. I was more heartbroken that day than I have ever been. My soul was downcast and beaten. I saw absolutely no hope for my future, and nothing good in my life at all.

That afternoon, as the evening sun shone down on us creating a warmth like I’ve never felt before, Josephine put her arm around me and said, “Paige, God has promised to prepare a table before you in the midst of your enemy. I know things are so hard right now, but let’s just take a minute to look at the table God has spread before you.” And then she began to name the blessings in my life … things that even in my great grief I knew were gifts from God.

The lesson I learned that day and in the months that followed is that God is generous and He loves to bless us, especially when we are hurting. He longs to do this for us because …

7. God is caring toward me. (Isaiah 40:11)

One of my favorite names for God is Abba, or Father. He loves us like a good father loves his children. This means He longs to see us come to Him with our troubles, to seek His advice, to rest in His loving arms. As our Heavenly Father, He must discipline us. He wants our full obedience. He always cares about us because of His great love for us. And perhaps the most amazing thing about the love of my Heavenly Father is that …

8. Nothing can separate me from the love of God. (Romans 8:33-39)

He knows me, with all my faults, and still loves me better than anyone else ever has or ever will. And that’s what amazes me!

(Sadly, I cannot make these last two truths about God fit into a nice little segue, as I have for the previous eight truths. I suppose they will have to stand alone, as much as it bugs me.)

9. There is only one true God, yet He exists in three parts … the Holy Trinity.
(Genesis 1:26; John 10:30)

This is a mystery to me. I’m not sure how one God can be God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit all at the same time. I cannot begin to explain it, and yet I know and trust that this is the way God exists.

10. God is omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient. (2 Peter 3:8; Revelation 19:6)

God is everywhere, at all times. He is all powerful. These traits, which belong solely to God, are hard for me to fully grasp and imagine. I simply have to trust that God is these things because He has said so. I don’t understand because I am human and God is God, which means that I’ve gone full circle.

This past week God has been revealing Himself to me. Some of it was shown to me in new ways, but nothing that God revealed was earth shattering news to me. These were things I already knew, for the most part. However, what God did do was to show me that if I truly believe all of these things, then the way I live my life should reflect it.

One of my very favorite songs is called “You are the Sun” and is sung by Sara Groves. As I’ve typed this out, I’ve thought of the words to the chorus over and over:

You are the sun shining down on everyone
Light of the world giving light to everything I see
Beauty so brilliant I can hardly take it in
And everywhere you are is warmth and light

And I am the moon with no light of my own
Still you have made me to shine
And as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I cannot be a light unless I turn my face to you

The cry of my heart is this: “Oh, Precious Jesus … let me be the moon so that I reflect nothing but You!”

The Definition of Me (Part 10/10)

2009-09-14T21:56:00.001-05:00

I am fascinated with Facebook. I love connecting with friends from high school and college. I enjoy reading what other people have to say about their life. And, even though I hate to admit it, I really like to take the facebook personality quizzes.

I waste far too much time taking tests that tell me which soft drink I am most like (Dr. Pepper), which Little House character I am closest to (Caroline “Ma” Ingalls), which Gone With the Wind character I most resemble (Melanie Hamilton), which Pooh character (Pooh himself), and on and on.

These quizzes are so totally bogus, and yet I’m always so curious to see what result I will get. Sometimes I am pleased with the result that I post it so that everyone can see my fantastic result. There have been times that I am so disappointed in the results that I actually take the test again to see if I can get a different result. For some reason, I am obsessed with having myself defined by someone or something else.

I’ve taken a variety of personality type indicator tests for my jobs in the past. One popular personality indicator uses colors to describe people: blues, greens, reds and yellows. I nearly always turn out to be a yellow.

There is another personality test that relates people to animals: beavers, lions, golden retrievers and otters . I tend to get a strong golden retriever result.

Then there are sanguines, melancholies, cholerics and phlegmatics. I usually test out to be a phlegmatic.

I couldn't possibly leave out the exhaustive Myers-Briggs personality indicator. You can be an E or an I (extrovert/introvert), an S or an N (sensing/iNtuition), an F or a T (feeling/thinking), and a P or a J (perceiving/judging). With sixteen different personality types to pick and choose from, I figured it would be very definitive in describing my personality. Wrong ... I’ve yet to get a consistent result on the Myers-Briggs. Trust me when I say I have taken it multiple times, and each time I get a different result

There are other ways in which people describe who or what they are in order to give themselves a label.

Night owl or early bird?

Introvert or extrovert?

Saver or a spender?

Chatty or the silent type?

Sweet or sassy?

I’m not definitively any of these things. And I’m like this is so much of my life ... sitting on the fence, living life in the middle of the road, not given to extremes.

Sometimes I wonder exactly how my personality can be described ... what is it that makes me unique and how am I different from the rest of the world. Quite often I feel undefinable. Even though tests say I’m a yellow, phlegmatic, golden retriever with tendencies toward being an introverted saver at times and an extroverted spender at others, none of that really gets to the heart of who I am.

That’s because the only way I can be defined in through Christ Jesus, my Lord. He’s my Creator and made me to be uniquely me. I’m made in His image and I’m designed to be who He created me to be, whether or not it fits any particular personality indicator quiz or not. Furthermore, the only definition of me that matters is God’s definition!

This entire series of notes has been an outcome of 2 years of searching for who I am and discovering that it really doesn’t matter all that much who I think I am or how the rest of the world defines me. There is only one definition of me that truly matters. I’m learning to seek the definition of who I am in the One who lives in me ... the One who loves me most of all and who is holding me (with all of my dreams and hopes and desires) in the palm of His hand as He sings over me with the most amazing love songs.

Therefore the tenth important thing that you should know about me is that I am only defined through Christ, my Savior.

I’m good, I’m bad
I’m everything in between
I’m this, I’m that
But ...
It is Your love that defines me.
~Definition of Me by Stephen Curtis Chapman

When it comes to my identity
I want the love
I want the light
I want the beauty
On the inside
I want the one that you can't see
To be the definition of me
~The Definition of Me by Mandisa

The Definition of Me (Part 9/10)

2009-09-14T21:55:00.001-05:00

Twenty miles out in the hills of rural Louisiana stands a small white church. It’s been standing there for well over 100 years now ... a small white church with a tiny graveyard surrounding it. Chances are quite good that you’d never just happen upon it for it stands just off a dirt road with nothing else nearby for miles and miles. Yet this small white church is near and dear to my heart.

Spring Ridge Baptist Church was built in 1892, and in 1893 the church records indicate that there were 93 members. In those long ago days, church members would travel many miles by horse-drawn buggy or wagon to services. We are told that these services began on Saturday evening, and that it was concluded with a noon-time meal on Sunday. The congregation always departed by singing the old hymn “God Be With Us ‘Til We Meet Again.” It’s said that at the start of this hymn, the horses would begin to neigh for they knew it was time to head home once again.

The congregation disbanded over 60 years ago, after most people had left the hills and moved into towns. But to this day, the descendants of those original church members gather to pay homage to those who walked in the faith before us and left us a legacy of faith in Christ. The first Sunday of every May is Spring Ridge Sunday, and we gather to worship our loving Heavenly Father, as well as to remember and honor those who came before and left behind a legacy of loving the Lord Jesus Christ. Today, the congregation is so large that it fills the church to over-flowing, the wooden benches crowded with young and old. Some stand in the doorways or sit on the steps at the entrances, while others gather around the windows to listen in and be a part of the worship experience.

Perhaps my favorite part of Spring Ridge Sundays are when we take roll. The names of the founding church members are read. In response, those in the congregation that morning who descend from those names rise to their feet. In the Old Testament there is reference to the Israelites standing together by clans to be accounted for, so I think it is extremely neat that this is a part of our worship experience on Spring Ridge Sunday.

The list starts out ...

Kate Allbritton and Gus Zeagler
Mary Allbritton and Butler Lutrick
Henry Allbritton and Launa Dunlap
Ben Allbritton and Minnie Myers

A few rise to there feet here and there ...

The roll call continues ...

Nola Allbritton and Bergie Beasley
Tom Allbritton and Nettie Tidwell

And finally ... Minnie Bell Allbritton and Jim McGuffee.

It is then that I rise to my feet, for this is the pair of names for which I’ve been carefully listening. I don’t stand alone, as at least half of the packed one room church is standing up as well. We stand shoulder to shoulder, a testament to the lives of Jim and Minnie Bell McGuffee. The list of names continues to be read after that, but by far the largest number of descendants in attendance comes from this particular family line.

Why is it that Jim and Minnie Bell have so many descendants gathering on Spring Ridge Sundays? Perhaps they just had a lot of children, who in turn parented many children ... a logical answer. Maybe their descendants haven't scattered quite as far from the old homeplace ... another likely reason. However, I like to think it is more due to their legacy.

Jim and Minnie Bell were my great-great-grandparents. They were married in 1892. They had 7 children. My great-grandmother, Rita Mae McGuffee, was their 6th child. My children are the 6th generation to descend from this long-ago generation of believers. How wonderful it is that I can truly claim this scripture: “Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations! Psalm 90:1”

Jim and Minnie Bell left a legacy of faith in God. I never knew them, but I loved their daughter and spent many an hour with her during my childhood. Ma told me often about her parents, and how they raised her to love the Lord. I used to go and spend nights with Mat when my grandparents were out of town. When I was younger she would read the Bible to me, but later on as I grew older and her eyes grew weaker I read the Bible aloud to her. Sometimes I’d read for an hour or more. She loved to hear God’s word. Ma often prayed over me. I recall sitting next to her in church, my hand in her old, wrinkled one. Ma lived to be 91 years old. I was 21 years old when she went on to live in her eternal home, and never once did I know her to waiver in her faith in God.

My grandfather was her only child. I’ve never known a man who loved God and family quite like my Papaw. He gathers his family, which now numbers 50 and is still growing, in his home. As we eat, he often turns the topics of conversation to something regarding God and the Bible.

And then there is my father ... a faithful son, husband and dad. He’s gentle, kind and good. My father is a peace-maker and works hard to keep everyone at peace with each other. His life exhibits the fruits of the spirit in a way I don’t often see in other men. I’

Each generation has been faithful to love God and live their life in such a way that other’s notice the difference. My family is full of people who are living a victorious life in Christ, and are leaving a legacy of true faith and fellowship with Christ. This does not save me, but it rather gives me such a precious picture and guide for my own walk of faith. It has made it easier for me to see God for who He is and to come to Him on my own.

I know that I’m bless to have received the legacy and heritage of faith in Christ. I’ve had several conversations lately, with friends who either didn’t grow up with family who trusted in God or didn’t have a deep relationship with the Heavenly Father. It has opened my eyes to what a sweet gift this is .... this blessing of having grown up in a home in which the Lord was honored and revered. I’m familiar with His ways. I know the stories of faith. I was taught the importance of living out what I say I believe.

You have given me the heritage of those who fear Your name. Psalm 61:5

Part of my personal definition includes this heritage with which I’ve been blessed. A very large part of who I am comes directly from my upbringing and my childhood and from the incredible people who have helped to shape me into the woman I am today. So the ninth truth in my life is that I have been given a heritage of faith in Christ that has shaped my own relationship with my Savior, and that legacy inspires me to live my life in such a way that I’ll leave behind a legacy of faithfulness to God as well.

I want to leave a legacy How will they remember me? Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough To make a mark on things? I want to leave an offering A child of mercy and grace whoblessed your name unapologetically And leave that kind of legacy
~chorus "Legacy" by Nicole Nordeman

I won’t bend and I won’t break
I won’t water down my faith
I won’t compromise in a world of desperation
What has been I cannot change
But for tomorrow and today
I must be a light for future generations
~ chorus "For Future Generations" by 4-Him

The Definition of Me (Part 8/10)

2009-09-14T21:54:00.001-05:00

This past week it has felt like God has been somewhat silent in my life. I have spent time wondering when He was planning to show up in a couple of areas of my life. Through some interesting conversations and a book I’m reading, I’ve been reminded about hearing the voice of God.

I’ve been reminded of 3 common reasons that I don’t hear God speaking to me:

The first reason is that I am stubborn and selfish. I want to do things my way. I have my own agenda and if God’s agenda doesn’t match mine then I get pouty and petulant. I’ll turn a deaf ear to Almighty God. Like a child who covers her ears to show she isn’t listening, so am I to the voice of God if He isn’t saying something I want to hear. It isn’t that God is not speaking. It is that I don’t want to hear what He has to say and so I choose not to listen.

At other times I’m unable to hear the voice of God because I’ve chosen to fill my mind and my life with the clattering and clanging of life at a frantic pace. I’m a single mom of 3 active kids. My house is rarely still. My house is rarely quiet. The voice of God is rarely loud and booming. In my life it typically comes as a soft whisper. If I’m not intentional about rising early to meet with God, or using my alone time to purposefully seek him (as I’m driving to work and home again, when the kids are outside playing while I cook supper, etc), then I’m probably not going to hear the still, small voice of God. So often, I’m guilty of choosing to sleep in a few extra minutes or of calling a friend in a quiet moments instead of choosing to spend those minutes with God. You see, it isn’t that God isn’t speaking. It is that I’m not choosing to spend time listening.

Perhaps most disturbing are the times that I choose to listen to the other voices around me. Sadly, sometimes I truly can’t discern the voice of God from the voices of the world. In fact, far too often, this is the way of it. I’m simply not familiar enough with my Saviour and His ways to be able to pick out the definitive voice of God.

When I was a kid, my parents made my siblings and me raise 4-H lambs. This is one of those things that I look back upon with much more fondness than I had for it as a child. I could tell many funny stories about raising 4-H sheep ... maybe someday I will write those stories down. But for today, I want to share one fact about sheep that I still find sort of fascinating.

My sister Brooke was the true animal lover in our family. She probably spent more time with our sheep than any of the rest of us. She would go into the pen and walk around among the sheep, stroking their wooly heads and talking to them. I have no clue what she said to them, but she spent a lot of time out there with them. Before long, Brooke could lead those sheep around anywhere just by talking to them. The lambs were quite willing to walk along next to Brooke as she talked softly. Sheep are followers and they followed the voice of the one they knew and trusted.

The Bible compares us to sheep. Jesus is our Good Shepherd. He is always there for us, ready to spend precious moments with us. The more time I choose to spend in HIs presence (reading my Bible, praying, singing worship songs, actively listening) the better I will recognize the voice of my Saviour as I’m living my daily life ... the life that comes at that frantic pace.

Interestingly enough, God’s voice hasn’t changed since the beginning of time ... He declares to us in His word that there is no shadow of turning in Him, so His messages won’t change to reflect the changing views of society and culture.

I have been guilty of thinking that God is the “strong, silent” type. Wrong. God speaks. He just never forces me or anyone else to listen. He wants us to want to listen and follow.

Quite often, I fail in this area. Either I don’t want to hear and so I shut out His voice, or I’m too busy to pause and spend time listening, or I’m unable to pick out God’s voice from all the messages being sent to me. In my life, I’m desiring to learn to listen to God, and to follow His voice wherever it may lead ... and that’s the eighth thing I know to be true about me.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. John 10:27

the Definition of Me (Part 7/10)

2009-08-25T21:28:00.001-05:00

It’s not been vastly different from any other night. I came in from work around 5 pm, and after welcoming hugs from my children they immediately set in to asking when I was going to feed them dinner. I didn’t even sit down, but immediately began pulling out pots and pans and a variety of ingredients with which to attempt to put together a healthy meal in a quick fashion. The entire 45 minutes I cooked, the kids begged for food. They were impatient to eat. Of course, once dinner was served, no one really wanted to eat the delicious meal set before them.

After dinner, it was time for homework and baths. I got Julia busy bathing and went to take care of another chore, but I didn’t get far because a big yelling match broke out. Nathan wanted Julia out of the bathtub NOW because he was ready to take his bath. I asked him to give her a few more minutes and to be patient for his turn. Nathan said, rather indignantly, “I don’t see why I need to wait any longer. She’s already had at least 20 minutes in there!” Impatience strikes again.

I often find it quite frustrating when my children aren’t patient people. I guess you could say I’m impatient with impatience! And truthfully, I can be a rather impatient soul myself. I want things done my way and on my timetable, and when things don’t work out the way I envisioned, I tend to get all out of joint.

I was 27 years old when I gave birth to my oldest child. I’d been married 6 1/2 years, and wanted a baby for well more than half of that time. I remember when my high school and college friends began to have children, and how part of me was happy for them and then another part of me was so jealously sad for me. I couldn’t figure out why God wouldn’t bless me with a child.

A journey through infertility is a very difficult thing to describe. It’s not something that is easy to talk about with anyone else. It can be embarrassing. Even once doctors get involved, there seem to be no easy or quick solutions ... just humiliating medical tests and regularly sharing your intimate life with perfect strangers, all in hopes of someday getting to hold that sweet little bundle of joy.

Perhaps the most frustrating part of my personal 3 1/2 year walk through infertility was the year I taught a pregnant 7th grade student. Every day I watched her come to class ... her stomach growing rounder and rounder, proof of life growing within her. At some point she became unable to squeeze into her desk and I had to find an alternate way to seat her. I remember how she used to ask to leave class to go to the restroom. Every time I’d let her out of class, I would fill this mix of sorrow for the child who was about to have to be a mom and sorrow for me because I wanted a baby so very much. I couldn’t figure out why God wouldn’t bless me with a child, but He allowed this 13 year old to get pregnant.

I was impatient with God’s timing. At that point, I didn’t think it was so perfect. In fact, I thought it was pretty rotten timing. I couldn’t see His plan ... only my own desires and dreams that weren’t coming true according to the timetable I had laid out for myself. I suppose that most couples who deal with infertility feel the say way. Impatience with the waiting period is one of the hardest things about infertility. It's made that much harder because you simply don't know how long the wait will be. A pregnant mother-to-be knows that her precious baby will make an appearance sometime around a certain date. An infertile mom-to-be doesn't know how much time will pass before she holds her sweet baby in her arms. She rocks an empty cradle and her heart weeps while she waits.

Have you ever noticed that the Bible is full of barren women? When I was wanting to be someone's mother, I used to read and reread the story of Hannah. I was amazed at how the very thing she longed for she gave right back to God. I took comfort knowing that God had given children to so many barren women ... Sarah, Rachel, Hannah and Elizabeth. Their stories, though thousands of years old, gave me hope. As I prayed for my own child, I remember how God had heard and answered their prayers. Surely He would someday answer mine, too.

I love the following passage from The Bible Jesus Read by Phillip Yancey:

“After promising to bring about a people numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore, God then proceeds to conduct a clinic in infertility. Abraham and Sarah wait until in their nineties to see their first child; their daughter-in-law Rebekah proves barren for a time; her son Jacob must wait fourteen years for the wife of his dreams, only to discover her barren as well. Three straight generations of infertile women hardly seems an efficient way to populate a great generation.”

Obviously, God’s timetable is definitely different from that of humans.

Yancey continues:

“After making similar promises to bring about a possession of a great land (Abraham himself possessed only a grave site in Canaan), God arranges a detour for the Israelites into Egypt, where they molder for four centuries until Moses arrives to lead them to the Promised Land --- a wretched journey that takes forty years instead of the expected two weeks. Clearly, God operates on a different timetable than that used by impatient human beings.”

God often moves slowly. He also moves unpredictably. But His ways are always good and perfect.

Standing on this side of infertility, I wouldn’t change those 3 1/2 years for anything. I am convinced that the wait has made me a better mom. I am convinced that the wait has given me a perspective on motherhood that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. And I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have the 3 precious kids that I have right now, for in HIs perfect timing He gave to me the children I was ordained to hold and love ... the sweet little people who call me “Momma.”

From the time we are children, we are taught that patience is a virtue. Yet it is very hard to learn to be patient. Today alone I've been impatient with my children, impatient for a meeting to end and impatient for bedtime to arrive. I'm even impatient with God as I wait for Him to move in a couple of areas of my life. The Battle for Patience is one that I am very familiar with in my life.

Then the seventh thing that I know to be true about myself is that even though I am often an impatient kind of gal who feels frustrated when God's timing doesn't match my own, I am learning and striving to learn to be patient and wait upon the Lord. I am seeing how God’s ways, though mysterious to me, are always best. That is why I am working hard to cultivate the fruit of the spirit of patience in my life.

The Definition of Me (Part 6/10)

2009-08-23T21:35:00.000-05:00

A woman's emotions can be a dangerous thing. I'm a woman. I can say that.

I'm here to tell you that there are many moments when an overwhelming emotion suddenly overtakes me. Call it hormones. Call it a downside of the feminine mystique. Call it whatever you like. It happens to all women ... or at least every woman I know.

To be honest, I'm usually just as surprised as anyone else about those sudden, intense emotions. I don't necessarily know that one is about to hit me full force until it does. I sometimes don't even know why I feel the way I feel.

Take tonight, for instance ...

I was sitting in church before the service began. I flipped through the latest Home Life magazine, as the prelude music filled the sanctuary. I was happily humming along. Life was good and I was feeling glad to be sitting in the Lord's house with my children and anticipating an evening of worshipping my Saviour. And then it happened ...

There, on pages 28-29, was an article about the importance of romance to women. There on the sidebar was a list of ways for husbands to romance their wives and nurture this part of their marriage. All it took was about 5 seconds before I was fighting this huge urge to cry. Tears sprang up into my eyes. I frantically tried to wipe them away, while I wondered what on earth was wrong with me!

About that time, someone that I did not know walked up to say hello to me. There I was with watery eyes. I don't even know most of these people at church, but they all know me because of my brother (a former youth pastor at this church). I'm sure I looked ridiculous ... sitting there trying so hard not to cry ... and talk this lady who obviously knows me by name but I have no clue who she might be. (And no, Reid, I do not remember her name. I was trying not to cry. I was also trying not to look like I was about to cry. I'm sure she told me her name, but I do not remember it at all.)

It's been 2 1/2 years now since my marriage fell apart . And to be honest, I'm truly okay with where I am in this season of my life. There was a time when I wasn't and I struggled with being alone, but God and I have come to an understanding about that ... well, truthfully I came to an understanding, but God had a lot to do with it! Still, I guess deep down, I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say that a part of me longs for the day when God will bring this season to an end and brings once again a romantic kind of love in my life. And I guess, there are times when a sort of intense emptiness hits me and I suddenly find myself feeling that achy feeling in my heart as I wish there were someone who found me captivating and wanted to shower me with affection.

As I sat there in church tonight, I realized that I'm just a woman who is acting and feeling like a woman ... and there is nothing wrong with that. I'm like every other woman on the planet. I long to be cherished and adored and, yes, romanced. I realize that there are plenty of married women who long for these things as well. I am definitely not alone in my desires.

Being a woman is just part of who I am. I can't change it anymore than I can change my eye color or my blood type. And yet there are times when I feel like a failure as woman. Satan lies to me and tells me that if I was a real woman my husband wouldn't have left me. He wants me to believe that I am not beautiful or that I am less than worthy because my body is not picture perfect.

Sometimes I think we women feel like failures if we don't meet the Proverbs 31 standard, in a way that the population of Christian men in general don't seem to feel if they don't live up to the Biblical standard given to them. Those verses read like that perfect woman ... the same woman that stares back at us from the covers of magazines or lives the fairy tale princesses we all dream of as little girls. You know her ... the woman who has the incredibly smart and talented children who are always neat and clean, who has an immaculate house that is beautifully decorated, who has a fulfilling career outside of her home and who has the perfect marriage to a wonderful and handsome Christian man. I feel so small in comparison to that woman. And even though I do not think God intended for Proverbs 31 to make women feel insecure, I often find myself feeling like there is no way I can ever be that perfect woman. Satan wants me to feel defeated before I ever even get started!

Then there is that debate about the "S" word (submission). So often, I've heard women vehemently debating those submission verses from all sorts of angles. And if that isn't enough to keep us all up in arms, there is also the question of our dress. Most would agree that Christian women should be modest in dress, but what exactly is modest? Can you wear sleeveless shirts? What about dress or skirt length? And how short can our hair be cut? It doesn't help that there are those denominations that feel women should always wear dresses, have long hair and never wear make-up or jewelry.

Obviously, being a woman of God is a tough, tough calling. And yet, I can rest in the knowledge that God created me to be fully female. It says in the Bible that God created males and females ... and that He called it good. I am meant to be a woman, full of femininity, and when I embrace that feminine part of me it is honoring to God. He loves me despite my failings, and finds me with all my feminine charms and failings, to be His wonderful daughter.

What's more ... God wants to meet those feminine longings and desires I have. He knows that my heart sometimes yearns for romance. And He is very willing to sweep me off my feet, often when I most need it but least expect it.

Tonight, as we drove home from church, one of my sweet boys asked, "Mama, do you like diamonds?" I said that I did ... I very much like diamonds.

Then my other precious boy piped in, "Good. We want to get you a diamond ring for your birthday. You can wear it and remember that we love you and think that you are beautiful."

And the first one added, "I'm not sure that we can get you a big one. How much do you think a diamond ring might cost anyway?"

Well, I certainly don't know anything about buying diamond rings (though I'm relatively confident my sons cannot afford to buy one for my birthday next month) ... but geez if that didn't make my heart pound and my stomach do flip-flops! It was enough "romance" for me tonight. God cares. He knows my heart longs to be beautiful to someone and adored for who I am, even with all my flaws and feminine emotional instability.

I'm content to walk through this season of life, knowing that God has my heart and my dreams and my future in His safe keeping ... and that He is the ultimate Lover of my soul, far more loving than any man on earth can ever hope to be. I trust that no matter what the future holds, God is going to meet every one of my feminine heart's needs and perhaps even some of my desires.

With these thoughts in mind, the sixth truth about me is this: I will never be the perfect Proverbs 31 woman, but I want very much to live in such a way so that I am worth far more than rubies. I desire to be a woman of faith, who is desperately seeking God in everything and in every way for every day of my life. I'm learning to embrace being a woman, created by a Heavenly Father who loves my femininity because He gave it to me. And I'm learning to run straight into the arms of Jesus, giving to Him all the desires of my feminine heart.

The Definition of Me (Part 4/10)

2009-08-20T21:45:00.000-05:00

No matter how you look at it, 2007 was without a doubt the hardest year of my life. It began with the death of my much-loved grandmother just days before Matt was to begin a 15-month deployment to Iraq. In fact, my grandmother died on February 3rd, we buried her on February 7th and Matt deployed on February 8th. Saying two hard goodbyes in one was exceedingly tough.

Despit the goodbyes, that spring was actually a really joyful time for me. I enjoyed the quietness of rural Louisiana and watching the beautiful spring unfold along the river that flowed through my parents’ front yard. Joel learned to ride a bike. Nathan lost his first teeth. There was a family wedding and plenty of time for getting together with old friends. The kids and I enjoyed many happy picnics on the riverbank in my parents’ front yard … laying on a quilt, eating peanut butter sandwiches and reading aloud from a favorite book. For a few precious weeks, all seemed perfect in the world. Looking back, it was like the calm before the storm.

By early May I began to sense a difference in my relationship with Matt. I couldn’t figure out what exactly was going on, but deployments and military separations are so hard anyway that I figured it was just perhaps some of the effects of being apart and perhaps a little miscommunication. However, by early June there was no doubt that there was something big lurking beneath the surface of our marriage, and before the month was out everything was rapidly spinning out of control. It seemed that there was nothing I could do to stop the catastrophe.

There are truly no words to describe what I felt in the heat of that summer. I wanted to do nothing more than take to my bed, but I had these 3 children to look after. Honestly if it weren’t for my parents I don’t know how I could possibly have cared for my children. And the tears … oh, I cried so much! I cannot tell you the number of times that I woke to find that my cheeks and pillow was wet with tears …. tears that I didn’t even realize I had been crying. The pain was truly overwhelming and even took a physical toll on me as I cycled between being so nauseous that I was unable to eat and doing nothing but eating, being unable to sleep and doing nothing but sleeping, being unable to cry and doing nothing but crying. At some point, my normally straight hair became very curly, giving new meaning to the phrase “it will make your hair curl.”

I did everything I knew to do, but mostly I prayed. I spent hours at night on my knees next to my bed, pouring out my soul to God and begging Him to save my marriage. I asked for renewal and restoration and redemption. I cried out for His mercy. I trusted that God could heal us … even expected Him to heal us …

But He didn’t.

By October, my marriage was over. I can honestly say that prior to June 2007, I never knew my marriage was in such serious danger. And until Matt uttered those words “I want out. I want a divorce.” I never seriously considered that he might leave me and the children for what he thought would be greener pastures. To say that I was caught off-guard by the failure of my marriage would be the understatement of the century.

In the fall of 2007, I was filled with overwhelming grief, as well as embarrassment and confusion and desperation. But perhaps the most terrifying emotion of all the ones I felt during 2007 was the feeling that God hadn’t cared enough to answer my prayers. My soul cried over and over, asking “Where are you, God?! Have You not heard me? Will You not answer?”

Why didn’t He restore my marriage? I mean, isn’t the Bible pretty clear that God wants us to marry only once … to stay married in good times and in bad times? I trusted Him to heal us. I begged Him for a victory that could only glorify Him … a story that would be a testimony to the goodness of God. Why didn’t He answer me in the way I had prayed? It’s two years later, and, quite frankly, I still don’t know the answers to those questions. But I do know a lot more about God, about me and about the truth that sets us free.

If you have kept up with my blog at all during the past two years, you will know that I’ve written much on the story of my divorce and how God has spoken to me at various times in that journey. Even though God didn’t answer my prayers as I had hoped, He was never silent. There are so many things that God has whispered into my heart as I’ve walked down this road, but there is one in particular that I would like to share as I think it defines yet another part of who I am becoming.

This past spring I traveled with a group of ladies to a women’s conference in Baton Rouge. I was so excited to go because one of my favorite Christian authors, Angela Thomas, was among the speakers to present … as well as a concert by one of my favorite Christian artists, Mandisa. Being away from the responsibilities of regular life for 36 hours, while praising God with a group of great women … well, I went expecting to have a great time and hoping that maybe God would speak deeply to me, too.

The entire week before the conference God continually spoke to my heart about the importance of truth. Over and over and over that week … in situations at work, at home, with my kids, with my friends and even regarding a very brief dating relationship that had ended several weeks earlier. God kept speaking to me about the importance of truthfulness … how it is the truth that sets us free (John 8:32).

Would you believe that the entire conference was about knowing the truth … not just any truth, but God’s truth? God had been preparing my heart all week long for the message He was going to give me at the conference. I heard it in Mandisa’s concert, and in the words of each of the speakers (Stormie O’Martian, Thelma Wells, Karen Kingsbury, Chonda Pierce, etc). Each and every one of the speakers had something to say about knowing and embracing God’s truth.

So by the time Angela Thomas took the stage as the very last speaker, my heart was already full to overflowing. Angela talked about how when we go through tough times, we often do not sense God is with us. We wonder why He has left us to go through the difficult situation alone. We cannot see Him working in our lives and feel that our prayers are not being heard or answered. Satan loves to convince us that God simply doesn't care or that He is too busy to deal with our problems, and we believe his lies over the truth that God wants us to hold dear.

Angela shared first a passage of Scripture from 2 Corinthians 3:12-18.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away. But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Angela shared God’s message, she said that when we accept Christ the veil is removed from our eyes, but so often we stand there with our eyes closed and wonder why we can’t see God. She challenged us to open our eyes and look for the glory of God at work in our lives …

God at work in my life? My first thought was "Yeah, well He certainly didn't answer that HUGE prayer I had about saving my marriage." But God asked me to search further and remember back ... and what I began to see was evidence of God being there for me.

Evidence like God answering my prayer for over 3 years for just one baby by blessing me with three wonderful babies in less than 3 ½ years.

Evidence like amazing protection in a wreck that should have sent every member of our family to the hospital and yet none of us had any kind of serious injury.

Evidence like God orchestrating a prayer chain for me and my marriage so that I was being prayed for round the clock (often people who didn’t even know me) during the worst days of 2007.

Evidence like God providing a job that simply landed in my lap when I had to return to work after being a stay-at-home mom for several years.

Yes, the evidence of God’s glory in my life is there. Even in the midst of that horrible divorce, God did a lot of restoring and healing. No, not in my marriage as I had prayed, but rather in my heart. That alone has made the heartache I’ve gone through worth the pain. Perhaps the most important thing I’ve learned in the past two years is the God is with me all the time., even when I can't see Him. When I think He is hidden from my view, I only have to open my eyes and look for the evidence of Him at work in my life, for the veil has already been removed.

The best part is that when I open my eyes and my heart, and I see the glory of God working all around me, I realize what an amazing love my Heavenly Father has for me… and how even in the bad times He is so exceedingly good.

The fourth truth about me is that I am a woman who has not only had the veil removed from my face, but who is also learning to stand with eyes open wide to see God at work in my life as I choose to reject the lies the devil would have me believe and embrace the truth that truly sets me free.

The Definition of Me (Part 5/10)

2009-08-20T21:44:00.001-05:00

When I taught 3rd grade, there was this experiment in our science book about the different kinds of taste buds on the human tongue. The children were allowed to taste a variety of foods that had a strong taste to see if they could tell where on the tongue the different kinds of taste buds were located. One of the foods was cocoa powder. The first year I did that experiment, I was shocked at the violent reactions the children had to the bitter taste. I suppose they were expecting the sweetness of chocolate milk powder, and so the bitterness took them by surprise. (By the way, in subsequent years, I issued a warning about how looks can often be deceiving and to taste only a small amount of the cocoa powder. I’m not a cruel person by nature!)

Bitterness can often overtake our lives as well, and often by surprise for it doesn't take long for bitterness to grow and entangle a heart. Something unfortunate or tragic happens in our lives, perhaps a prayer doesn’t get answered the way we would like … and suddenly we find ourselves with a bitter and hardened outlook on life.

I spoke previously about the summer my marriage fell apart and how utterly heart-wrenching those months were for me. I felt helpless to do anything on my own. I knew I had to rely fully on God. And yet, He didn’t work the way I prayed or the way I thought He should. His timing wasn’t my timing. His answers weren’t my answers. I felt like He had turned His back on me … and I would be untruthful if I didn’t say there was a part of me that wanted to turn my back to God as well. Those thoughts and feelings were lies though … lies that Satan wanted me to believe and embrace. Satan wants to block us from God at every turn, and he will do whatever it takes to prevent us from embracing God’s truth.

Thankfully, I didn’t totally turn my back to God. I continued to pray and to seek godly counsel. At some point during that summer, I felt that I should pray against bitterness. I don’t remember why I felt so strongly about praying not to become bitter. It could have come from my many hours of counseling. It could have come from one of the dozens of books I read on Christian marriage, divorce and divorce recovery, or perhaps it came from a conversation with a friend. That doesn’t matter so much because I know it was God who so deeply impressed it upon my soul to pray against letting bitterness settle into my soul.

As I prayed, I began to feel that the Lord wanted me specifically pray to not be bitter, but to be better as a result of my divorce. I asked God to show me … and this is the conversation that the Lord and I had:

Me: Lord, You will have to show me. How is it that I can be a better woman and not a bitter woman? This hurts really bad!

God: Take the ‘I’ out of bitter.

Me: What does that mean? Take the ‘I’ out of bitter?

God: This isn’t about you. Don’t make it all about you. If you don’t want to be a bitter woman, then take yourself out of the center of this situation.

Me: Okay … but how do I do that? It sure feels like it is all about me! I’m the one who got left high and dry. I’m the one who is standing in the middle of a pile of rubble, wondering what happened to my marriage. So how can I make this not about me?

God: Replace the ‘I’ with an ‘e’ … the ‘e’ is for ‘exalt.’ When you exalt or praise Me, you make it about Me and not about you.

Me: So if I praise You in the middle of this awful situation, then I will become better and not bitter?

God: Exactly.

Wow. It was without a doubt one of the most amazing conversations I’ve ever had with God.

I wish I could testify to you that I was faithful to consistently praise God in the middle of that storm. I wasn’t. But when I did, I was definitely better for it. In the choosing to give God my praise, even when life wasn't going my way and I felt all alone, I discovered a joy and peace that filled me. I found that I couldn't exalt God and have a soul that was bitter and hard.

Over the course of the past 2 years, God has shown me these things again and again and again. In EVERYTHING give thanks. Praise God for His mercy endures FOREVER.

This is what I know to be true about me: I have been bitter and hardened my heart to God. I chose to turn my back because I didn't understand His ways. I have been guilty of thinking that I knew much better than God. But I am learning to yield completely to God, for His ways are not mine. And I'm aspiring to praise Him in everything ... on the good days and the bad days, when I feel in awe of God and when I feel like I'm all alone. And when I choose to do this, I become a better woman and my bitterness is gone.

See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many. ~Hebrews 12:15

The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. He is my God, and I will praise him, my father's God, and I will exalt him. ~Exodus 15:2

The Definition of Me (Part 3/10)

2009-08-17T22:30:00.002-05:00

Children are natural dreamers. I love to listen to Nathan dream. He has the biggest and wildest dreams imaginable. Take for example Nathan’s wish for me this past Mother’s Day: “Momma, I wish I could give you a limousine with a chauffeur! Inside there would be a big screen TV for you to watch, and a hot tub. You could drive to work every day and back home again ... and anywhere else you wanted to go!” At the time I drove only about 1/8 of a mile to work, hardly enough time to turn on the big screen TV, much less enjoy the hot tub ... but what a wonderful dream, even if it was a little silly!

This morning on the way to school, this same child said, “I know what we should do with our extra money ... we need to build one of those rooms that you fill up with smoke and everyone goes in and sits down and sweats for a while because it makes you feel better. I think we need one of those, don’t you, Momma?!” I have to admit that building a sauna onto our house is an interesting thought ... not that I have any extra money to do that.

Nate has a list a mile long of things he wants to do when he grows up, which includes everything from inventing suction cups for hands and feet so that regular humans can scale walls like Spiderman to being an astronaut to cloning dinosaurs to being a famous artist. I love to hear him dream about the future, because he talks about it with a mixture of excitement and confidence in his voice.

Nathan is very, very good at dreaming.

Once upon a time I had dreams. Somewhere along the way, I lost them. I figured they weren’t good dreams to have and that even if they were good that I wasn’t worthy to dream them. I figured I was better off just hoping to live a rather insignificant existence, working and being a mom and a wife. Maybe I could teach Sunday School or have a shining moment as the teacher of the year, but bigger dreams were definitely meant for someone other than me.

I lost those dreams, but they didn’t disappear ... they just got misplaced, buried and forgotten.

I’ve moved an amazing number of times. I think at last count, I’ve lived in 15 homes since 1993. If I’m doing my math correctly, that would make 15 moves in 16 years. That’s a lot of packing boxes! I can tell you a lot about moving, but one of the most fascinating things about the moving process to me is that one can pack an item into a box and then totally be surprised to find it on the other end. There is this weird ability to forget you owned something. I’ve always loved unpacking best because it is like Christmas! I open a box and gush over the wonderful things I find inside ... things I am surprised to remember that I own.

God’s been unpacking my dreams lately. I’m surprised by some of the things I’m discovering that I set aside. I am dusting off those old hopes and wishes, looking at them with new eyes and seeing that they are worthy dreams.

Here are a few of the many dreams and hopes and wishes I’ve unpacked in the past year ...

*become a published author

*take a cake decorating class, and someday earn my living by decorating cakes for birthday parties, etc

*participate in short-term missions on a regular basis

*see the Northern Lights, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Great Wall of China and a myriad of other amazing sights around this incredible world

*adopt a child ... maybe a little African baby or perhaps an Eastern European child

It's been surprising to remember that once upon a time I head these dreams close to my heart.

God has even given me some new dreams and hopes for my future, such as the following:

*fall in love with an amazing man who loves God way more than me and pursues Christ with a passion ... but thinks I’m God’s greatest creation on earth and showers me with his affections (and maybe a bouquet of pink roses a couple of times a year, too)

*another opportunity to homeschool

*see my children grown up loving God passionately ... married to wonderful Christians and raising beautiful families. Somedays I can’t wait to be a grandma!

*earn Master’s degree

One definition of the verb hope is to look forward to something with desire and reasonable confidence. When we hope, we dream. And everyone has some sort of dream for their life, even if it is buried deep in the soul in a grave of insecurity and lack of confidence. I buried my dreams in that grave for many years. But God is the ultimate dream giver ... and even though all of these hopes and wishes for my future may never come true, it is a good and wonderful blessing to dream and hope for my future.

Then this is the third defining thing about me:

I used to believe that big dreams were meant for other people ... that I was unworthy to expect amazing things could happen to me.

Now I’m becoming a dreamer who is embracing the wonder of hoping for amazing opportunities given to me by a loving God. Part of that becoming a dreamer is learning to yield my hopess to God and entrust Him to bring about those that are within His will for my life. It also means remembering that He has some amazing plans for me, so I can look forward to the rest of my life with a sense of anticipation ... wondering what God will do next.

Still wondering why I’m here
Still wrestling with my fear
But oh, He’s up to something
And the farther on I go
I’ve seen enough to know
That I’m, not here for nothing
He’s up to something

There is hope for me yet
Because God won’t forget
All the plans he’s made for me
I have to wait and see
He’s not finished with me yet

~Brandon Heath (Wait and See)

First Day of School!

2009-08-16T21:49:00.006-05:00

It's a new school year! For me, this time of year has almost always seemed like when the "new year" really starts ... I guess because as a student it indicated a "promotion" of sorts, , as a teacher it was the beginning of another year of work, and it also means that I'm about to turn another year older because my birthday is normally about a month after the new school year begins. I guess because of all those reasons, it's natural for me to want to celebrate the first day of school each fall. It has a holiday sort of feel to me ... well, as much as any other minor holiday anyway.

This year has an extra special feel to me, for we aren't just celebrating a regular first day of school but rather we are also celebrating the fact that we are fully settled into our new home in our new town. It means that my children are going to a new school and will be making new friends. It's an exciting time, even if we are all a little bit nervous.

I just dropped the kids off at school ... I didn't walk in with them, even though on the inside I wanted to walk in and hold their hands tight. The teachers greeted the kids with big smiles and hugs and took them right into the gym where the rest of the students were gathering before the school day began. Right now, as I'm typing, I see that it is exactly 8 am, and I'm guessing my children are being ushered into their new classrooms, finding their seats and preparing to start a brand-new year of learning ... and I'm praying that this is our best school year ever!

We have a little tradition of taking pictures in the yard on the first day of school each fall. So below you will find the pictures I took just this morning, as well as little about each child.

My 3rd Grade Baby ...

Joel's favorite color is green, just like his eyes. He loves weather. Joel keeps me up-to-date on all the latest weather news around the globe. He has recently taken up blogging .... it's a weather blog! (If you are interested in reading Joel's weather reports, please contact me and I'll send you a link.) Joel loves road maps and enjoys planning trips for our family to take someday soon. He still likes to talk about presidents and thinks that one day he might like to be one. Joel is exceptional at math. He thinks Brandon Heath is a pretty cool singer. Joel is known for being a picky-picky eater, who is never but even I can make him happy when I fix his favorite meal ... hamburgers (ketchup only, please!), french fries and vanilla ice cream for dessert.

My 2nd Grade Baby ...

Nathan loves blue, just like his eyes. He thinks Spiderman is the coolest of all cool superheroes. Nathan likes thinking deep thoughts and then debating about those thoughts with other people (usually me, and since I'm not a natural debater those are some interesting conversations). Nathan is a fantastic reader and an amazing artist. Nathan has far too many favorite foods to mention ... but he is particularly fond of fruits and veggies. His favorite place to eat out is Subway because he likes to get the Veggie Delight sandwich (with cheese, please!).

My 1st Grade Baby

Julia's favorite color has recently change to purple, though she is still very fond of pink and has a small passion for black as well. If Julia could have just one toy, she would want it to be her Littlest Pet Shop toys. She loves Aunt Brooke's dog, Pippin, and begs for him to come over and visit as often as possible. But mostly, Julia loves clothes. She likes to wear them, try on new ones (and buy new ones!), and look at pictures of clothes in magazines. She thinks it is lots of fun to dress up and create new outfits, and the more it looks like it might have come from the thrift shop grab bag, all the better! It wasn't until recently that I realized just exactly how well little miss Julia is reading, though her favorite part of school is definitely recess. Julia's favorite thing to eat is CoCo Puffs ... though she also loves carrot sticks with ranch dressing, tiny tomatoes, black olives and apples.

As I was typing up my descriptions of my children, I was reminded of just how quickly they grow and change. It's the joy of my life to watch them mature into the people God has created them to be. I'm fascinated to see talents and interests develop, and I can only say from a thankful heart how amazing it is that God has entrusted these precious little ones to my care!

The Definition of Me (Part 2/10)

2009-08-15T23:28:00.001-05:00

Perhaps a month ago I started listening to KLove Christian radio station online while I'm both at work and at home. It was around that time that I heard a certain song for the first time, and I’ve heard at least 20 times a week since then. I’m talking about a song by Jonny Diaz titled “More Beautiful You.” And every time I hear it, I think I might cry out of some weird rush of relief that there is actually man who is singing this message to the world on the behalf of women everywhere, and as well as with a pang of regret that it has taken me nearly 37 years to begin to embrace this truth for myself.

In case you haven’t heard this lovely song, the message of the song is about every woman’s beauty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wish that you could see that beauty is within you heart.
And you were made with such care your skin, your body, and your hair
Are perfect just they way they are ...
There could never be a more beautiful you!
~Jonny Diaz, “More Beautiful You”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This past spring and summer, God has been overwhelming me with this message: I am beautiful.

I’ve heard the message in songs like the one I just mentioned, but also in Mandisa’s “True Beauty” and “The Definition of Me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What’s inside of you
What’s inside of me
The hands that made the moon and stars
The mountains and the seas
Made you wonderful, beautiful, marvelously
Let the whole world see your
True Beauty
~Mandisa (True Beauty)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I read the same message in Angela Thomas’ book "When Wallflowers Dance" as well as her wonderful Bible study titled "Do You Think I'm Beautiful?".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is a God in heaven who is absolutely in love with you, and by the testimony of the Holy Spirit, you can live and dance in that truth.
~Angela Thomas (When Wallflowers Dance)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I’ve read the truth in Bible passages. Psalm 45:11 has become a favorite verse of mine: The King is enthralled by your beauty.” Enthralled ... what woman doesn’t want for someone to find her enthralling?

The second thing that is defining about me is that I used to be a wallflower, afraid that I was unlovable because I believed that I wasn’t beautiful to look at and that I had nothing that made me special.

However, I am no longer that wallflower of a girl.

I am learning to see myself in a whole new light, and embracing that I am a lovable, likable person.

I’m embracing the fact that I was created by the same Creator who made Saturn’s rings and the Northern Lights and the ruby-throated hummingbird. And the Bible is pretty clear that God thinks that all of His creations are good, but that He created humans in His image and pronounced it VERY good.

I’m the apple of God’s eye (Ps. 17:8) and He is enthralled with my beauty (Ps. 45:11).

The testimony that I can now share is that I am indeed beautiful, and I am learning to dance the dance of life in the arms of God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So tired of looking in the mirror
‘Cause it always says the same thing
I want to be about something different
Something more than the mirror can see
Like joy, peace ... Alive in me
When it comes to my identity
I want the love, I want the light, I want the beauty
On the inside
I want the one that you can't see
To be the definition of me
~Mandisa (The Definition of Me)

If there is a question attached to the soul of a woman, maybe it’s “Do you think I’m beautiful?” When God answers from the depth of His great love, it makes some of us feel like the wallflower who is asked to dance. But we can become distracted from His invitation because of others lovers, whispers of unbelief, noise and clutter and because we are sometimes the prodigal and sometimes the elder brother. To return to the music and strong embrace of God requires a desperate and pursuing heart. When a woman chooses to remain in His arms of devotion, God gives the only we hope we have ... His perfect love and a beautiful crown. God is enthralled by the beauty of a woman and calls her His beloved. He wildly pursues her heart with romance and intimacy to make her His beautiful bride.
~Angela Thomas (Do You Think I’m Beautiful)

The Definition of Me (Part 1/10)

2009-08-13T21:06:00.003-05:00

I've been given an interesting assigment ... to define myself.

Yes, unfortunately I am one of those devout people-pleasers, who also has a strong tendency to believe any and everything others say or think about me. It's also true that I'll readily accept and embrace any negative thoughts spoken about me immediately as if it were the gospel truth, while questioning and brushing off all the positive statements people make about what they see in me.

So this past week my counselor, Ginger, challenged me to come up with 10 things that I believe and know to be true about me, regardless of what others might think or say. She also challenged me to blog about it, so that I am making my thoughts known to others who know me. In other words, I'm going to own these thoughts and beliefs. I'm going to define myself, and say to the world that this is who I know I am.

At first I thought it would be an easy assignment. It's not. I'm 4 days into working on this and it really isn't easy to define who I am. I'm finding that I am coming up with a lot of silly, shallow definitions, such as I have blue eyes or my favorite color is pale purple. Those things are true about me and I believe them, but it really isn't what makes me ME. Or then I have the problem of coming up with something deeper only to find that it is negative. I certainly have my faults. I'm only human, after all. And yet, this assignment isn't necessarily about downing myself, but it is more meant to help me see myself in a truthful way so that I can grow into a better woman.

But today God revealed to me a way to approach this challenge ...

For the past two years, the Lord has been doing a mighty work in me. I'm a very different woman now ... some days I don't even recognize myself. So I'm going to approach this assignment from the stand-point of talking about who I was contrasted to who I am becoming. My prayer is that it will show how God is working in my life, as He is creating in me a clean heart. Because really what matters most is how God defines me.

And that is right where the definition of me starts ...I am a child of the King of Kings. This is the most important thing you can ever know about me. I serve a risen Savior and my life is devoted to Him. And this is my testimony regarding that fact:

I grew up in a Christian home. My parents took me and my siblings to church. We also read the Bible at home, prayed together and talked about the ways of the Lord. This same love for God was demonstrated and taught to me by my grandparents, great-grandmothers and other extended family. I really cannot remember a time when I didn't love God, and knew that Jesus loved me too.

I think I first became aware of death when I was about 7 or so. A older neighbor lady that we used to drive to church died rather suddenly, and I became aware that people don't live forever on earth. Not too long after that I talked to my parents about death and dying and going to heaven. My father took me to visit the preacher ... I remember quoting John 3:16 for him that night. I don't guess that I asked Jesus into my heart that night.

My mother says that the following summer I asked Jesus into my heart while we were in the garden. I have absolutely no recollection of this. But my mother was there and she remembers. She said we were talking about some friends of mine who had asked Jesus into their hearts during VBS. I apparently expressed a desire to do the same thing, and so she led me through the prayer that day. I wish I could remember ... I wish I could say that I knew my heart was in the right place that day. I wish I could say that I said those words with all sincerity. But I can't. I can only tell you what my mother told me.

My parents didn't push me to make a profession of faith. I was a little scared of our preacher. He was older and I wasn't comfortable with him. So it wasn't until I was 11 years old and we had gotten a new preacher at our church that I finally made a profession of faith and was baptized as a believer. I was baptized along with my brother, which makes that event an extra-special day for me to remember.

What is sad is that very shortly after that, I began to be filled with fear that I wasn't saved after all. I couldn't remember my salvation experience. I had no recollections other than the day I was baptized ... and I heard it preached again and again and again that baptism will not save my soul. My distress was very much an internal sort of struggle. I was scared to admit my fears out loud. I didn't want to admit that I was having doubts. I prayed daily, begging God to save me and to help me have a peace in my soul about my salvation. I feared death and dying and the return of Christ. The intense fear lasted from about the time I was 12 or so until shortly after my 30th birthday. At that point, I'd been struggling for well-over half my life ... seriously plagued by this overwhelming fear.

Fear ... it drove me and consumed me. I guess I functioned fairly normally on the outside. I mean, during that time I was a strong student, graduating valedictorian of my high school class and finishing cum laude from college. I married and worked and did all the things that people do. But I felt stunted in my walk of faith. All I could pray about was whether or not I was saved. I viewed the bad things in my life as punishments for not having enough faith. I suppose the worst of it was that I never found the courage to talk to a single person about this deep-seated fear. Over time, it only grew stronger and stronger.

By the time I was 30 years old, I was a momma to 3 beautiful children ... little stair-steps. Joel was 2, Nathan was 1 1/2 and little Julia was a bundle of newborn sweetness. I had lived literally on both coasts of this great country. I had been successful in jobs, in making friends, in motherhood. But I still felt so full of fear. I tried to live so that no one else would ever guess how tormented I was, but those doubts burned brighter than ever. I'll never forget how I took my babies to church one Sunday night. It was always a struggle to go to evening church services then ... the kids were so little and it was hard to drag them all out at night by myself, knowing that when I came home each of them would be so grumpy and needy. It was definitely easy to choose to stay home. But the church was having a video series on Christian basics by Dr. Adrian Rogers. And I was so very compelled to go ... I had this strong sense that I needed to be a part of this video sermon series.

That first night of the series Dr. Rogers preached on salvation. And what he said impacted me so greatly. Dr. Rogers told the story of two men traveling from Memphis, TN to Birmingham, AL. One man drove. As he crossed the state line into Alabama, he noted that the time was 3:23 pm. He stopped at the Alabama State Visitor's Center just after he crossed over, signed his name to the guest book and chatted amicably with other travelers at the rest stop. Later on, he could remember many details about those first few moments in Alabama. The second man flew on a plane. He never knew the exact time he crossed over into Alabama, but he knew that at some point he must have because when the plane landed he was in Birmingham, Alabama. He could see by the sights around him that he was indeed at his intended destination. But he could not tell the exact details of how he came to be in Alabama.

Dr. Rogers said that salvation is sometimes like each of these journeys. For some, the moment they asked Jesus to save them is burned into their memory. They can recall the details and the emotions of the moment with great detail. But for others the journey isn't quite so dramatic or memorable. And yet, they are just as saved because they have arrived at the point of believing who God is and what Jesus did for them and have yielded their lives to Him.

At the end of the video, the pastor of the church, Bro. Roger Wilkins, got up and began a discussion of the sermon we had just heard. Within the first two minutes of the discussion, Bro. Roger looked right at me and asked for me to share my testimony with everyone ... and with tears in my eyes, I said, "Bro. Roger, let's just say I got there on a plane." He laughed a happy laugh and said he was glad I had caught the flight, and then moved on to probing other members of the congregation with questions about the video we had just viewed. Bro. Roger had no idea that my plane had just landed moments before.

I wish I could say that since that night I've never doubted ... I have. But now I am armed with a way to send Satan packing when he tries to attack me with doubts. I believe. I don't have to recall the exact moment of my salvation. I know that I know that I know that Jesus is my Lord and Savior. Furthermore, I can also testify that since that night the fear that plagued my life for so long has diminished. I am able to rest in peace, knowing that my life is redeemed ... my sins are forgiven and my joy truly is found in my Savior.

So who am I? I am a redeemed soul, who longs to be totally in love with my God. I am learning how to embrace the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. And I am no longer filled with an overwhelming fear.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord ... ~1 Timothy 1:7-8

Three Dollars Worth of God

2009-08-06T15:10:00.003-05:00

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.
Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep,
but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk
or a snooze in the sunshine.
I don’t want enough of God to make me love a black man
or pick beets with a migrant.
I want ecstasy, not transformation.
I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth.
I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack.
I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.

~Wilbur Rees

I read this poem today in my Voice of the Martyrs magazine, and it's disturbing me. How often am I guilty of wanting just $3 worth of God? I want just enough to make me feel good about myself, but not enough to make me desire more of God.

Again, this morning I am finding myself praying to be overwhelmed by God and changed radically from the inside out because I'm seeing more and more and more that my lukewarm Christianity isn't really loving Christ at all.

Turning My Misery into Joy

2009-07-31T18:59:00.005-05:00

I just got home from a week at 4-H camp.

One of my friends jokingly called it my "week in paradise." Let me assure you that it is anything but that. Another friend teasingly wished me a wonderful week at "Club Mud" because of the rainy weather we had ... Club Mud is definitely a much closer description than Club Med! I honestly don't think there can possibly be any comparison between Camp Grant Walker and a spa resort vacation.

Yes, it rained every single day at Camp Grant Walker this past week. Some days it rained all morning or all afternoon or both. It was the miserable kind of rain, where there is just no way to keep from getting soaked to the bone. Naturally, this being a camp and all, many of the activities are outside activities. Unless the weather is truly severe (lots of loud thunder and lightening), the kids are kept to their normal camp activities (minus the pool and canoeing). This week the rainy weather was often the kind that was sans thunder and lightening. Therefore, I spent a great portion of my time this past week standing around outside looking for all the world like a losing contestant in a water balloon fight or a professional car washer or something along those lines. Being wet can be fun at first, and can sort of help bond everyone together, which is a rather good thing at camp. However, it really doesn't take very long before the novelty and the fun is over. You really just want to put on some dry clothes ... or at least that's the way I felt about it.

Thanks to all that rain, the sandy campgrounds turned to a nasty, gritty kind of mud that just got everywhere. All day long, I'd walk around the campgrounds and the sand would work its way between my toes. I'd go to the cabin only to find that there was wet, dirty sand all over the floors. The bathhouse was even worse ... wet sand covered everything from the floors to the shower stalls. I couldn't seem to get all of the sand off of my body, and so it got in my bed ... not to mention the 22 very sandy little girls who liked to come sit next to me on my bed and chat about all of their adventures at camp. I don't have to say it, but I will ... my bed got covered in sand. There isn't much way to get wet sand out of a bed, and attempting to sleep in wet and sandy sheets is a rather miserable task.

This past week was in many ways a miserable week. This summer has been in many ways a miserable sort of summer. Lots of unpleasant circumstances ... things that wear me down and make me feel utterly miserable. And yet, I have to say that God's been teaching me a lot though my personal circumstances this summer.

The first thing I'm learning is that I'm suppose to give thanks in everything ... not just for those things that bring me joy, but EVERYTHING. That means being thankful even when I've got sand between my toes and sand in my bed and an a/c that doesn't work for over a month in the hottest part of the summer. Those things can be miserable ... in fact, more than miserable. These are certainly not things that I feel like thanking God for at all. I'd rather complain about them. I'd rather ask God to remove them from my life as soon as possible.

Truly, it doesn't even normally cross my mind to thank Him when I'm miserable. And yet, this is His very clear instruction to us ... in all things give thanks. I looked up verses about being thankful in the Bible and there are quite a few. Here's just a short sampling of what the Bible had to say about the importance of thanking God.

Oh, Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever. Ps.30:12

For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Romans 1:21

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
Philippians 4:6

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17

Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:18

It doesn't seem to me that being unthankful is really an option ... that is, if I'm taking God and His word to me in a serious sort of manner. And I don't think that God necessarily expects us to feel thankful. He simply wants us to intentionally choose to be thankful ... no matter what.

Secondly, I'm learning that God expects me to live in a state of joy despite the discomforts of this world. Being miserable and suffering is not an excuse for me to spend my time complaining and venting and spreading my misery ... even if there is a lot of sand between my toes and sand in my bed and no a/c in my office for over a month during the hottest part of the summer. Instead, I'm suppose to allow Christ to be in me so much that there is a depth of joy that even the most unimaginable miseries of this earth cannot destroy.

Quite frankly, the lack of a/c at work or the sand invading my bed and my shoes really is not the sort of misery that is unimaginable. I just finished reading the book "The Hiding Place" by Corrie ten Boom. Speaking of unimaginable miseries, this fine Christian lady went through some truly unimaginable horrors during the holocaust. Her story is inspiring, for through it she tells how she is thankful for fleas in her bed, ants as her only companions for 4 months, and many other unspeakable cruelties at the hands of the Nazis. She tells how she and her sister Betsy sought to bring comfort and peace from God to those suffering with them, and even the very German soldiers who were bringing the misery to their lives. She tells how God gave her joy even those dark days ... days that we know as one of the darkest times in the entire history of the world.

I read that book at camp during the first two days I was there, and afterwards found it hard to complain about walking through the wet, sandy muck for 4 1/2 days. I knew that I'd be going back to the comforts of home in just a few days. Corrie ten Boom had no idea when the horrific life she lived while at the mercy of the Nazi soldiers would end. What the ten Boom sisters lived through was not just a short-lived miserable situation, like the wet, sandy conditions at camp or the heat of my office without a/c in July. I will likely have forgotten much about sand in my bed at camp before the end of August, but the horrors and effects of the holocaust still haunt our world today. Corrie and her sister Betsy lived a joyful life, despite the horrors all around them. They found that depth of joy in their relationship with Christ and never stopped being a light for Him. I felt both inspired and convicted as I read their testimony about the joy of walking with Jesus.

I've found a few verses on joy in the Lord as well. In fact, the Bible verses on joy were abundant. This is truly just a few of them:

Then I would still have this consolation— my joy in unrelenting pain— that I had not denied the words of the Holy One.
Job 6:10

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy. Job 8:21

But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you. Psalm 5:11

You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. Psalm 16:11

Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him. Psalm 33:1

When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul. Psalm 94:19

A cheerful look brings joy to the heart, and good news gives health to the bones. Proverbs 15:30

It really seems that a joyful attitude is another thing God expects from His children. Not just joy when things are going our way, but a joy that is so deep that the little daily miseries or the big, horrible miseries cannot take away the joy that is in our heart.

Earlier this summer, God started off showing me about the importance of being thankful. That was why I mentioned it first. Learning about joy came next, but almost as an addition to what I was learning about being thankful and not as a separate thing. So imagine how thrilled I was to find this verse as I was looking up references for my thanksgiving and joyful verses that I wanted to share:

The precepts of the LORD are right, giving joy to the heart. The commands of the LORD are radiant, giving light to the eyes.
Psalm 19:8

If God commands us to be thankful in all circumstances, then we are promised that when we do offer our thanks to Him, He will give us joy in our hearts. How amazingly simple: A joyful heart is the fruit of a thankful heart! So very simple and yet it bears repeating: If I want to be joyful then I've got to be thankful!

I've been learning these lessons all summer, and I'm still learning even in the midst of writing this little note on what God has already shown to me. Even as I sit here pondering all these thoughts that are racing around my head, I am not at all sure that God is close to being through with showing me how important it is to be thankful and joyful in all of life's circumstances. I readily admit that I can be a slow learner at times, often taking 2 baby steps forward only to turn around and take 3 giant steps back. I may not be a quick study, but tonight I'm hoping and praying that I'll be an eager learner who diligently and intentionally tries to put what I'm being taught into practice each and every day.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Roman 12:12

Rule Breakers

2009-07-26T22:18:00.003-05:00

I'm not a mom of many rules. I have a few basic ones ... the kind that cover many of the typical crimes commented by children. My main rules are:

Do unto to others as you would have them do unto you.
Obey your mother ... the first time you are told to do something.
If you wouldn't want Jesus to be with you, then don't do it.

Those 3 rules cover most everything ...

And yet, sometimes it doesn't. So I do have about 3 or 4 more specific rules, such as no food or drinks in the living room and inside toys stay inside while outside toys stay outside. Nothing major or hard to recall. Only, sometimes apparently, even that can be difficult.

Take for example, today's incident with Julia locking the boys out of the house and Joel busting through a window in his frantic attempts to get back inside. This business of locking each other out of the house started off innocently enough. It was a joke and everyone of them thought it was funny. It was a strange game they played Friday afternoon and evening, with lots of laughing.

By Saturday morning, the locking game was bringing frustration ... mostly to me because I found myself continually going to rescue some child who was locked outside and resorted to ringing the doorbell to be let back inside. Before lunch, I'd had enough. I told them all that this new game was OVER. No more locking people out of the house. Each of them nodded their heads and said "Yes, ma'am" to indicate that they understood fully this new rule.

Obviously not.

This morning, as I tried to clean up broken glass, Julia sat on her little chair and cried loudly because she had lost some privileges when she just "forgot" that I'd had said no more locking each other outside. My hard-hearted response was "Tough luck, sweetheart."

At least, with the door locking business, I knew who the guilty party actually was. Take my rule about no food or drinks in the living room as another example. This afternoon, I discovered 12 blueberries by my recliner, the remnants of a chocolate pop tart crumbled on the floor near the TV, a wrapper for a cheese stick on the couch and 4 glasses in various locations around the living room. It looked like my kids enjoyed a picnic in the living room while I enjoyed my Sunday afternoon nap. None of them was willing to fess up, either ... not that I'm surprised. However, you'd think that the guilty parties could have at the very least removed the evidence of their crime.

This evening, I was feeling rather put out with my 3 little rule breakers. I was tired of this part of parenting ... going over the same stuff over and over and over. Why is it that they can't keep up with 5 or 6 simple little rules? I was complaining to myself about this ... and that's when God reminded me of something.

God has just 10 simple rules for living. They aren't hard to remember. If I were given a test, I could probably remember them all. And yet, I break them all the time. I like to think that I don't ... but when I really start to examine my life, I'm pathetic about keeping those commandments. No other gods before me? I struggle with that one. I mean, is God really number one to me? Or do I allow other things, such as my computer time or hobbies, to consume all of my thoughts and energy ... giving to God just a measly 10 or 15 minutes at the end of my day?

Jealousy? Ohhh ... let's not talk about that. I see someone who has a new car or a new kitchen make-over or gets an exotic vacation and suddenly I'm turning green with envy.

I like to push these "little" sins to the back of my mind. I'm not such a bad person. I don't murder or sleep around. Or do I? The Bible says that if I look upon someone with anger in my heart it is just as if I have murdered them. Same thing with looking at a man with lust ... I might as well have hopped into bed with him for all that it matters. I don't particularly like those verses. It hits far too close to home for me!

Oh, yeah ... I'm just as bad about breaking rules as my children. I'm nothing but a low-down sinner, who can't even manage to follow ten simple rules without breaking one for an entire day.

Thankfully, there is a lot of hope for us rule-breakers. God is famous for his forgiving spirit. All I have to do is confess and asked for forgiveness. How easy is that?! God even helps me to repent and turn from my sin, but even when I "forget" and break the same old rule again and again, He is willing to forgive me each and every time. Amazing!

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9

20 Ways to Stay Cool in July When the A/C Goes Out at Work

2009-07-21T14:00:00.000-05:00

I'm becoming quite the expert on beating the heat in Louisiana's hot and humid July weather. I've been stuck up on the 3rd floor of an old dilapidated courthouse with no a/c for going on a month now. And not only am I surviving, I'm also learning a lot about keeping cool and keeping my focus on what it should be.

Here's how I'm staying cool this summer:

1. Dress lightly. Modesty is obviously important, but thin materials are a blessing. And let me just say that skirts are an amazing invention! I've never been much of a skirt gal until recently, but I'm loving my skirts this summer.

2. Place fans strategically in open windows, and remember the secrets of cross-ventilation.

3. If necessary, rearrange office so that desk is in a better position to feel cool breezes from open windows.

4. Drink plenty of ice water.

5. Stay still. Don't move unless you absolutely have to move ... especially if there isn't a breeze.

6. Keep a cool, damp washcloth handy. It feels amazing on the neck or forehead when you think you just might pass out from the heat.

7. Drink more ice water. It's important to stay well hydrated.

8. Place a ziplock back of ice in front of fan that is on desk.

9. Pray for cool breezes ... and don't forget to thank the Lord for them when they blow.

10. Go barefoot in office. For some reason, this really does help ... not matter how silly it looks. Besides, it is a great excuse for weekly pedicures. I now have a real need to keep my toes looking beautiful.

11. Don't wear jewelry. Again, I don't know exactly why, but it helps. I'm not nearly as hot when I forego jewelry as when I've got some on.

12. Drink a little more ice water.

13. Put snowy photos as screen saver.

14. Play Christmas music, make Christmas gift lists and dream of vacationing at a ski resort.

15. Buy plenty of snowcones from the kids who have set up a snowcone stand across the street from courthouse. Not only are you supporting the business efforts of those industrious children, but you are staying cool and hydrated. Really, I'd forgotten just how tasty a snowcone can be on a hot summer day.

16. Plan a "Beat the Heat" workshop for 4-H'ers in the parish. Plan to make healthy smoothies together.

17. Stock work freezer with popsicles.

18. Don't let certain people who like to call and ask for the temperature in the office (DAD) get you frustrated. Remember to stay pleasant and happy, knowing that the Lord will deal with them for you.

19. Find interesting and unique ways to keep laughing ... like imagining all of your coworkers coming to the office in their swimsuits. A cheerful heart feels so much better than a grumpy spirit ... even if it is a hot cheerful heart.

And last but certainly not least:

20. Perhaps the biggest thing I'm being reminded of as I sweat through this long summer is that this life isn't all about Paige ... it is all about Paige becoming more like Christ. In other words, the point of living isn't for me to discover my happy place. The point of living is for me to discover how to be more holy.

Still ... I'm going to be real happy when I can practice being holy while also being cool.

Giving It All Away

2009-07-17T20:12:00.003-05:00

I love to write. I always have loved writing. For as long as I can remember, I've loved to write letters and notes. I actually enjoyed writing thank you notes after high school graduation and wedding or baby showers. I know, I know ... that's just weird, but then I guess I'm probably a weird person at times. In fact, I'm sure I'm more than just a bit quirky because not only do I love to write, but words and writing words actually fascinate me.

I think a lot about writing. It's true. Sometimes, as I'm going through my day, I'll find that I'm thinking about how I'd like to write down exactly what I'm experiencing. The next thing I know, I'm writing and editing an entire essay in my head ... wishing I had paper and pen (or my laptop) handy to write the words down for posterity. I wonder how many people drive down the road writing long notes in their head, praying all the while that they can remember the beauty of the words they are thinking so that they can write it all down as soon as paper and pencil are handy. I think a time or two I've even pulled over to the side of the road, frantically digging through my purse for some tiny scrap of paper and a pen so that I can write down some wonderful phrase that's rolling around in my head before I forget it.

My writing often helps me get through bad days. When I get upset, I rarely lose my temper and go off on someone verbally. But I usually can't wait to get alone and write everything that I'm feeling and thinking down. Over the years, I've learned that as I write I can begin to sort out my emotionss and understand better what I'm feeling and why. And while I've never managed to keep a traditional journal, recently I've discovered prayer journaling and my prayer life has started to change in ways I never imagined. It's opened me up to my Heavenly Father in a way I'd never opened up before. Suddenly my prayers went beyond "bless so and so" to sharing much deeper thoughts and concerns with God.

Recently I had a conversation with my new friend Jon ... he was talking about giving his musical ambitions to God. He talked about how it was hard at first. After all, his music was something that he sort of considered "his" and it was so deeply personal. To give it to someone else, even to God who had given it to him in the first place, was just hard. But he chose to do that and he went on to talk about how God has blessed that offering. I could tell it was something that Jon didn't regret doing ... rather he seemed so at peace with God being in control of his musical talents. It was an inspiring conversation for me ... somewhat of a turning point.

Over the years, I've had people tell me from time to time that I should try to write a book, but I never had any serious writing ambitions. I think it was partly because I figured there wasn't much that I had much to say that was book worthy. Besides, I just liked to write, and writing a book or writing for a job just seemed like too much work.

When I was in high school, I briefly thought that maybe I'd like to write for a newspaper ... but then I thought how I'd hate having to be objective as a reporter and I figured I wouldn't get an editorial position straight out of college. There have been times when I thought that maybe I'd like to be a freelance writing, but that seems like such a hard job. What if no one liked what I wrote?

No, I decided long ago that writing for a job wasn't for me. I'd just keep my writing for myself ... I'd write to please Paige. All of my life, my writing has been all about me. I write when I want and about what I want ... and I liked it that way, thank you very much.

But lately I've been getting those sorts of comments more and more ... comments about how my writing is a blessing. It seems that every time I turn around, someone is suggesting that I write a book. It's no longer just my mother encouraging me in this path. It makes me wonder if there maybe I've missed my calling in life somewhere along the way ...

So about a week ago I decided to try to just give my writing to God. Honestly, I don't know what this is even supposed to look like. I mean, do I now write in a different way? I was so worried about doing something wrong that the first thing I wrote after that decision took me 3 days to write. I was scared that the words were mine and not God's, and I wanted it to be perfect.

In the past week, my head has seemed so full of things to write. I'm struggling to keep up with all that is in my mind and heart. This has actually always been one of my concerns with the idea of writing a book or getting published. What if I ran out of ideas? What if I woke up one morning with nothing else left to say? Deep down I know that I really don't have anything worthy of saying in the first place. I don't necessarily see things in new and fresh ways. What could I possibly share with anyone that haven't heard before? This past week, as I've had so much I wanted to say and not enough time to write it all down, I've realized that there is a certain amount of freedom in giving my writing to God. I no longer have to fret that I'll run out of things to write about because now I'm trusting God to give me words to write.

And as far as my writing being something that's worthy of reading ... well that doesn't have to be a concern for me either, as long as I'm trusting God for the message. This has actually been something God's already been teaching me over the past couple of years. During one of the darkest times of my life, I felt like I had so much to say about a particular situation and yet I had no words. A very casual acquaintance of mine called me up late one night, literally out of the blue. In fact, I didn't even know she knew my cell phone number! She didn't waste any time with chit-chat ... she got straight to the point and said she felt like she needed to remind me of what my name meant. Sheila said, "Your name is Angela Paige. It literally means 'heavenly messenger.' God wants you to have the courage to speak His truth, Paige ... be His messenger."

Later on, my sweet friend Josephine echoed those thoughts in a slightly different way as she prayed for me during a phone conversation that I would not have a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of courage to speak God's truth as I dealt with that horrible situation.

I've thought about that a lot. I've always been afraid to speak my mind, but I'm not afraid to write my mind. Furthermore, on my own I may not see things in a new or fresh way. But then again, it isn't my thoughts that God is particularly interested in sharing with the rest of the world. It is HIS thoughts that need to be shared with the rest of the world. So while I don't have much to say that is book worthy, God has plenty to say. And He uses people like me every day as His messengers.

I don't know what God has in store for me or for my writing. It may mean a book someday in the future, or a job that includes writing in some way. Or it may just mean continuing to blog and post notes on facebook, write long encouraging emails to my friends and the like. But whatever it is meant to be, I'm giving it fully to Him now. I'm no longer writing to please Paige or fretting over whether or not my thoughts are worthy of writing down. I'm simply writing for God, and in the process I'm learning that God is going to share more of Himself with me as He gives me ideas and thoughts and words to share, and that in and of itself is rather amazing. This past week I've learned that I have to give up more of me in order to gain more of Christ.

What an amazing thing that God would even want my writing for Himself! What a precious gift to me!

With This Ring

2009-07-17T05:57:00.003-05:00

Not long ago I made a decision to wear a particular ring on my left ring finger. It also happens to be the only ring I wear most days. The particular ring I'm talking about is a cross ring ... very simple and plain. An understated sort of ring.

It's not a sentimental piece of jewelry. it didn't belong to my grandmother or some benevolent great-aunt. I just happened to notice it and I liked it. And since the price was right, I bought it to wear. Thankfully, it hasn't turned my finger green yet, for truly there isn't even any monetary value to this ring. I think I paid all of $5 for it at a Cato store back around Christmas.

But none of that matters. This ring is right now my favorite ring because of what it signifies and stands for ... for what it reminds me of daily. And that is that I belong to Someone ... the ultimate Lover of my soul.

Being single is hard. In fact, it is a rather lonely place to be at times. Not all the time. But some of the times. Especially at night once the kids are asleep. My mind is full of thoughts from the day. I'd like someone who wants to talk them over. Someone who cares about what is on my mind. Someone who might want to share what is on his mind.

Being single is hard. It can be an emotionally desolate place sometimes. No one is there to ask you why you are crying or to laugh with you over something you find incredibly funny. Your hand never gets held. Your head never gets stroked. And hugs are few and far between.

Being single is hard. Many times you are the odd man (or woman) out. There are days when it seems like every activity revolves around being part of a couple. Holidays are harder. No one is around to help you make decisions, big or little.

Because a single life is so hard, it is tempting to try to focus on finding a mate. I've been very guilty of doing that at times. I'm a woman. My heart yearns to be loved and adored.

But the longer I'm single, the more I'm becoming convinced that God wants to write my love story. That He wants me to trust Him so completely that I can relinquish this area of my life to Him ... to allow Him to be the author of my romance. And if I do this, then I can know several things:

1. I don't have to try to manipulate or work out situations. God is so great and amazing and capable of anything that I could really go live on the moon all by myself and He could orchestrate a way for me to meet the man He has already chosen for me. Not that I'm really planning on testing God in this way, but I can rest assured knowing that all I have to do is live my life for God and He will work out all the details for me.

2. I don't have to attempt to be cuter or funnier or something else that I'm not to attract any man's attention. If I focus on becoming the Paige that God created me to be ... If I focus on loving God more every day ... then nothing that I do or don't do is going to make me any more attractive. That doesn't meant that I'll stop trying to lose weight or brushing my hair cut every morning or suddenly begin to wear ratty, dirty clothes. I think I should definitely take care of myself and try to have a neat, attractive appearance. But I don't have to fret over it as I've done in the past. If God's love, peace and joy radiates through me, then I'm going to be attractive because of the One who is in me.

3. God may or may not want me to remarry. I hope He does. I have conversations with Him about this all the time. Sometimes, they are very much one-sided conversations, but I'm learning to listen to God in this situation, too. And so far, He's not revealing if I'm going to get a second chance at marriage or who that man might be or even how long of a wait I might have. Despite the lack of this pertinent information from God, this much I can trust and know ... God knows my heart and my desires in a much deeper way than even I know them. And He has promised that His plans for me are for my good. He wants to give me the desires of my heart and His plans for my future should give me hope. So whether I get remarried in 2 years time or 10 years time or never, I can look forward to the future with hope, knowing that God has my best interests at heart.

So I wear my cross ring on my left ring finger to remind me of those truths. I look down and see it and I remember, with a heart of thankfulness, that there is One who loves me more than any man on this earth is capable of loving me. And that when God is writing the romance of your life, it is a story worth waiting for.

Someday I'd like to exchange this simple cross ring for a wedding band. Maybe that will happen. Maybe it won't. But until that day should come to pass, I'm going to attempt to faithfully and patiently wait for the Author of the incredible story of the world to write the love story of my life.

God's Singing

2009-07-15T09:50:00.001-05:00

Perhaps my favorite thing about having a baby in the house was rocking that sweet little one to sleep. I loved holding my babies, especially when I was putting them to sleep. It was such a pleasant time to me.

I suppose I liked it so much because it was comforting to me, and I knew it was comforting to my babies. The room was dark. Just the two of us ... my arms filled with the tiny body of my child. And I'd sing ... mostly hymns, but I found that it really didn't matter what words came out of my mouth. Almost any song would do, especially if I sang it slow. And maybe the best part about that was that it really didn't even matter what my voice sounded like or if I was singing in tune. My baby was lulled to sleep by my soft singing, simply comforted by my presence and my voice. Sometimes, I really miss those days.

One of my favorite verses in the Bible is Zephaniah 3:17. It says this: "The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing."

Isn't that the most amazing verse? God sings over me! Just like I comforted my babies with songs, so God comforts me! I love it ... the image brings me such peace. Sometimes, when I am all stressed at work or I come home and I'm so tired I'm not sure if I have enough energy to last until bedtime, I just imagine God holding me in His arms, stroking my head and singing over me.

Even though I love that verse, Zephaniah isn't the most popular book of the Bible. Sometimes when I share that verse with a friend, they will say that they weren't even aware there was such a book. So imagine my surprise when I saw this entire display of items decorated with that verse in the Christian bookstore yesterday afternoon. I picked up a tiny metal sign that was $4 and bought it to hang in my office.

The clerk who checked me out was this older black lady. We spent several minutes chatting about some books I was buying and a movie she had just seen. And then she picks up the sign to scan ... and she reads the verse and she says, "Is this really in the Bible?" And I said, "Oh, yes mam! It's one of my very favorite verses. Just think ... God sings over us just like we sang over our babies when they were small. Isn't that the most comforting thought ever?!"

She stood there a minute and then she whispered, "Wow. My amazing God sings over me." Looking up, she grabbed the other clerk by the arm, and said, "Hey, Linda! Get this ... God sings over us! Just like we sang over our babies when we rocked them ... God sings over us, too!" The next thing I know, this little black lady and I are over at the display looking over all the items with this verse on them, and talking to each other about this verse and how wonderful it is. Before I left, she had written down the verse to look up in her Bible when she got home and thanked me at least a hundred times for sharing it with her.

As I was walking out of the store, she called after me, "Thank you! You've been a blessing to me!" But she didn't know how much she blessed me too ... for you see, as much as I love that verse and that image, it's been a while since I felt awed by it. And really, I don't want to ever lose my sense of amazement over this:

Almighty God, who created the Grand Canyon and Mount Everest and Saturn's beautiful rings, also sings over me.

Wow ... how amazing is that?!

Eating Worms

2009-07-14T22:18:00.002-05:00

My brother Reid has this cool video blog. I'm linking you to his blog because in order for this note to make much sense you'll need to go and check out his latest video entitled "Eating Worms." (Please check it out: http://commonterry-reid.blogspot.com/ )

I'm now assuming you've gone to view Reid's video ...

Tonight Reid and I were discussing his video. I asked him if it was meant to be just funny or if there was supposed to be a point to it. And Reid says, "Oh, there is a hidden biblical meaning. Let me explain ..."

He goes on to tell me how recently my nephew Micah had refused to eat dinner. Reid said that Heather had a made a great dinner: roast, rice and gravy, corn on the cob, salad, etc. But Micah wouldn't touch any of it. He cried and carried on, but Reid and Heather said that he could either eat the meal or go hungry. Micah decided to go hungry.

Later on, Micah went outside to play, and eventually he found a worm. Reid just happened upon Micah about that time and this was the discussion that followed:

Reid: Micah, what are you doing?

Micah: I'm about to eat this worm, Daddy.

Reid: Why one earth are you about to eat a worm?

Micah: I'm going to eat this worm because I am so hungry!

Reid: Well, why didn't you eat the awesome dinner that your mom prepared for you? Now you are out here about to eat a nasty worm instead ... wouldn't you rather eat real food?

Then Reid goes on to tell me that all of us are like that at times ... we refuse the wonderful table that God has spread before us and instead chose cheap and dirty imitations that will never satisfy. In other words, we trade what is good and right for a bunch of worms.

I've been thinking about that some tonight, and how there is a lot of truth to that. In my life, I've had plenty of times that I've seen the kind of table the Lord prepares for us. All the good and wonderful things that He gives to me, none of which I deserve. And so often, I will turn my nose up at it and walk away in search of something better. And every time, I discover that nothing I find on my own will ever satisfy me.

The fall of 2007 was a terrible time in my life. My marriage was falling apart and I felt like my world was ending. There were days when I really thought I might die. I couldn't see anything good in this world. I remember one very precious conversation from those dark days. It was with my sweet (and very wise) friend Josephine. I'll never forget how we sat on a park bench in Blowing Rock, North Carolina, as the October sun shone on us ...

She said to me, "Paige, God has told you that He will prepare a table for you in the midst of your enemies. And just look at the table He has prepared for you: you have friends who are upholding you in prayer, you have a place to live and such loving parents who are caring for you and your children, and even a great job has fallen into your lap. It's an amazing table, Paige. I know that things seem so very bad right now, but let's you and I try to focus on all that is good in your life. We always have reason to praise God ... always. Don't step away from the table. Just sit down and thank God for all these wonderful blessings. I know you don't feel like it right now, but you won't regret doing it either."

In the nearly two years since that conversation, I've tried not to forget that truth. That no matter how bad things seem, God has provided a table filled with goodness for me. And I can choose to complain and walk away and go find worms to eat ... or I can sit at the table which the Lord has prepared just for me and thank Him for His goodness in my life.

I have to admit that Reid later on confessed that he really just made up that story about Micah. His video was just purely fun and MIcah never had a meltdown over dinner that resulted in him trying to eat worms. Never-the-less, there is truth in Reid's story ... and Psalms 23:5 confirms this very thought. It was part challenge and part encouragement for me tonight. No doubt a message that God wanted me to hear once again.

By the way, if you enjoyed Reid's video, please leave him a comment. He's a funny guy, and I'm glad he's my brother ... well, nearly all of the time anyway.

Thoughts on Being Thankful ... even when I'm not

2009-07-14T09:54:00.000-05:00

I'm hot. Really, really hot. Honestly, I can't ever remember when I felt hotter. What's more ... I'm tired of being hot. There. I said it. And truthfully, it really doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, wallowing in the mud of my miserable situation only makes me feel more ... well, more miserable.

We are going on two weeks since the a/c went out in this courthouse. The latest word is that it will be at least two more weeks before it is repaired. Considering that the elevator has been out since before Christmas and the word ever since has been that it will be fixed "sometime next week" ... well, I guess I'd have to say that things aren't looking good for the a/c or the elevator to be repaired anytime soon.

I could complain about my working conditions. And honestly, I think about complaining a lot. The fact is ... I'm miserable where I work. I hate climbing up the stairs every morning, feeling the temperature rise with each flight I go up. I sit in my office, not moving at all and still the sweat rolls off my back and down my face. I can't think clearly. It's hard to do any work because my mind and my body feel sluggish from the heat. Sometimes I think I just might die because I'm so unbearably hot. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it is hard to be positive about this situation.

And yet ... I don't think that God wants me to complain. His word tells is to be thankful in all situations and to constantly rejoice in the Lord. That doesn't sound like God wants me to sit around with a complaining, ungrateful attitude. Rather, it sounds like He wants me to constantly live in a state of gratitude, even when it is hard.

I can't tell you how many times the past couple of weeks I've asked, "You want me to be thankful and rejoice even in this miserable heat, God?"

And every time He whispers back, "Yes ... even in the miserable heat. Especially in the miserable heat. Especially when life isn't going the way you thought or dreamed or planned that it would. For that's when your attitude becomes a form of worship to me."

Then if that's what it is, Lord, then please, please change my heart!

The LORD will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins; he will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the LORD. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing. Isaiah 51:3

Giving to God Our First Fruits

2009-07-11T23:42:00.010-05:00

I'm really enjoying my blueberry bushes. In fact, it is pretty safe to say that I love my blueberry bushes. They were a special gift to me from God. I've no doubt about that. The man across the street tells me they have been there for years and years and years. But I know that those bushes are my special gift from God ... that even as God prompted some other person to plant those bushes, He was thinking of just how much He loved me. So to say that those bushes bring me a lot of joy doesn't even begin to describe what I feel each time I step outside with my colander to collect blueberries.

The bushes are loaded with berries ... plump and juicy and sweet to the taste. I love blueberries. I adore eating them. I simply cannot get my fill. But even the chore of picking them is a blessing to me. You see, every time I step outside to pick blueberries, it seems like I am mostly alone. There is a quietness as I hang out there in my side yard ... nestling myself in the branches as I reach and stretch to select the ripest berries. My mind and my heart usually turn to God. Sometimes I pray. Sometimes I just enjoy the silence ... the simple acting of being .... of allowing my soul to simply be in the presence of almighty God.

It seems that one particular thought keeps coming to my mind over and over while I'm at the blueberry bushes ... this idea of "first fruits." It's not something that we talk about a lot in regular conversation. In fact, I don't know that I've ever even heard someone use the words "first fruits" unless it was a preacher in the pulpit or a new mom telling all about her baby's fascinating new eating habits ... and yet, God has this to say about first fruits:

Bring the best of the first fruits of your soil to the house of the Lord your God. Exodus 23:19

Wow. I don't know if I ever paid attention to that verse ... or truly even realized it was there in the Bible. And yet this particular verse keeps coming to my mind as I pick my blueberries. I've been trying to allow God to speak to me on this, so what I'm about to write hasn't been checked or researched. It's mostly what I've been observing on my blueberry bushes and what I think God is trying to show me. As Joel would say, "This isn't fact. It's just what I think I might know."

It seems to me that the first fruits off my blueberry bushes were just naturally plumper and juicier and sweeter. As the season has gone on, the berries have become a little smaller, a little harder and a littler more tart. I've also noticed that when I pick the ripe berries, the ones on the same stem that haven't ripened yet are then able to grow to a larger size ... compared to when I don't pick the ripe berries immediately, the ones that aren't ripe yet tend to ripen more slowly and never grow as big.

I've wondered this ... could it be true that in our lives the first fruits of any labor get more of our energy, more of our excitement and more of our efforts so that the first portion is truly the best of the best? If that's the case, I want to give God that portion. He deserves my best efforts, my best in everything. His portion should come first simply because it is a way I can show Him my adoration. Giving God my first fruits is then a form of worship.

Additionally, I noticed the verse said to bring the best of your first fruits. What I've noticed with my own blueberry bushes is that at the beginning of the season, there really was a larger selection to choose from. Even though my bushes are loaded now, the selection isn't quite as good as it was 2 weeks ago. At the beginning, I could choose the best of the best, a high quality. I want to give God my very best, so I should give him my first fruits so that He really does receive the highest quality I've got to give.

Finally, it seems to me that in picking the "first fruits" it allows the rest of the fruits to grow into plumper, juicier, sweeter fruits. I'm not a scientist, but here is my thought: When I pick the ripe blueberry, it allows the energy in the leaves to then be used on the other berries that aren't ripe yet. However, if the ripe blueberries aren't picked, then the leaves still have to send some of their energy to those berries, which means that there isn't as much energy to send to those unripened berries ... meaning they can't grow and develop and grow as large. I take that to mean that in my life when I choose to give my first fruits to the Lord, what remains behind will be blessed in a bigger way.

I'm trying to give my first fruits to God ... the first portion of my day, the first portion of my money, the first portion of my "free time", etc. It's hard. I'm sometimes selfish. I sometimes don't want to give up what I all too often see as rightfully mine. But I'm trying to see things God's way. More importantly, I'm trying to do things God's way.

(picture of my special blueberries)

Little Things

2009-07-01T21:10:00.004-05:00

Tonight I'm feeling very thankful for lots of little things ...

... like a washer and dryer in the house. I had to have someone come out and make new washer/dryer hookups in the house, so we've been nearly a month without a washer and dryer in our home. I'm actually looking forward to doing laundry, which might be a first.

Here are some other things that I'm feeling especially grateful for tonight:

* a new skirt that is 2 sizes smaller and fits ... yes, it feels good to be healthier

* wireless internet ... just lovin' that I can be anywhere in my house with my laptop and check my email. Hey, it's new to me, even if the rest of the world has been enjoying wi-fi for quite sometime!

* about 10 pairs of cute flip-flops to choose from and a long summer season to enjoy wearing them all

* My sweet and dear friend Josephine is coming to visit in a week!!! I'm so excited about this that I don't know how I'll survive the next week.

And these are blessings in addition to some really big ones like a good job, a nice house, enough money to pay my bills, a love extended family ... and the 3 best children on the planet.

I'm not having Christmas in July ... I'm having Thanksgiving in July!

Give thanks to the God of heaven ... His love endures forever! ~ Psalm 136:26

Finding What is Lost

2009-06-27T19:09:00.006-05:00

I spent this past week as the lone adult in charge of 14 teenagers who were let loose on the LSU campus for an enormous 4-H event. It was a wild and crazy week, made even wilder and crazier by the fact that the LSU baseball team was playing for the National Baseball Championship ... and won! LSU was one hopping place!

I spent most of the week, racing around LSU, with my cell phone stuck to my ear, trying to keep track of everyone. LSU is a big campus, and parking spaces are hard to come by. It was HOT this past week. I felt like I was melting as I drove all over campus, fought for parking spots, and walked to and from buildings to find my 4-H'ers. Oh, and I had forgotten all of the more lovely aspects of dorm life ... elevators that don't work so you must climb up 5 flights of stairs, showers that are frigid unless someone flushes the toilet and then the water is scalding hot, a/c units that work unpredictably, halls that magnify and carry even the tiniest noise so that someone going to the bathroom at 3 am sounds like an airplane taking off right in your room. Yes ... it was an interesting week, with mornings that started at 5:30 am and days that didn't end until after midnight.

It seemed that every time I turned around, another one of my charges was calling me on the phone, needing my assistance:

"Ms. Paige ... can you come pick me up and take me to the Union?"

"Ms, Paige ... I feel sick. Can you take me somewhere to get some medicine?"

"Ms. Paige, I'm over here in Tiger Town and I don't know if I can make it back to my class on time. Can you come get me and take me there?"

"Ms. Paige, all of my friends left me here at the Union, and you said I couldn't walk on campus alone ... now I can't get back to my dorm. What should I do?"

The most memorable phone call was the one that actually made my blood turn cold in the beginning. It came from two girls who are most definitely blondes. (I can say that ... I'm a blonde, too!)

It was 4 pm on Thursday evening when my phone rang. We had reservations for dinner at a fancy restaurant at 5 pm, followed by the awards assembly and dance that evening. Everyone was supposed to meet in the lobby at 4:45 pm, dressed in church dress. I was expecting one of the girls to be calling about borrowing my hair dryer for the 25th time that week ... or maybe someone with a clothing crisis (forgotten shoes or unable to tie a tie, etc). Instead it was Samantha and Mikayla. Our conversation went like this:

Sam: Ms. Paige ... You gotta help us! Mikayla and I ... well, we are lost. We don't know how to get back to our dorms. Can you come get us?

Me: Well, Sam ... tell me where you are first of all and I'll see if I can help you out.

Sam: We don't know.

Me: If you can't tell me where you are, then I can't come get you. Surely you know the name of the street ...

Sam: No, mam' ... I don't know that. Hold on ... Mikayla, what's the name of this street?

(In the background I can hear Mikayla sobbing, "I don't know! I don't know! We are going to be stuck here forever!")

Me: Okay, look, Sam ... you girls try to calm down. Let's try this. Why don't you just describe what you see ...

Sam: A road.

Me: Can you give me more details? There are a lot of roads. I'm going to need you to be as specific as possible so I can figure out which road it is and be able to find you.

Sam: Okay, I'll try. It's a curvy road, Ms. Paige. It's near a lake. There are old houses everywhere.

Me: Okay ... how did you get there? Did you walk there? Where did you walk from?

Sam: We walked here. Andrew pointed the direction we needed to walk from the Union and we walked this way. And now we are LOST!!!!!

Me: Okay ... it's okay. You aren't going to stay lost forever. Take a deep breath and let me think for a minute. You said it was a curvy road near a lake with a lot of old houses .... Praise God because I think I may actually know where you are! I am going to come looking. Here's what I want you to do. I want you and Mikayla to find a shady spot near a tree but in a place where I can easily see you from the road. I want you to sit there and stay put. DO NOT MOVE. Do you understand me? DO NOT MOVE!

Sam: (sniffling) Yes, mam' .... We won't move.

Me: If I haven't found you in the next 15 minutes, I will call you because at that time I will have to call the police to help me locate you. But we will find you. Just stay where you are and stay calm and trust that I am coming ... and it wouldn't hurt for the two of you to do a little praying while you wait.

As I hung up, I prayed with all my heart that God would help me find those who were lost. And thankfully, I did find them right where I thought they might be... about a mile from our dorms along Greek Row. As I approached the girls and they saw my car, they jumped up, hugged each other in the biggest embrace I've ever seen and raced toward me. I pulled over and they got into my car, hugging each other and me and crying. Sam said, "Oh Ms. Paige! You've saved us! We thought we were going to die!"

So maybe the girls were freaking out just a tad. They weren't going to die, but even so I have to admit that my heart was racing and my blood felt icy to know that two teens in my care were totally lost on such a large campus.

Since that night, it has been on my mind ... and it seems like God is reminding me of a lesson from this event in my life. The Bible tells us that Jesus came to seek and to find that which was lost. God wants to allow those of us who have been found already to be a part of the rescue of the rest of the world. No ... we can't save anyone. But we are to point others to God, and to do our best to make sure that those we know and love are rescued from being lost for eternity.

UP ...

2009-06-20T21:29:00.006-05:00

I took the kids to see the movie UP this weekend. We've been looking forward to it for a while now and it was definitely a movie worth seeing. I cry easily at movies ... but it is unusual for me to cry in the first 15 minutes of a movie. And yet, I did with this movie. I don't want to give away movie plots, so if you haven't seen the movie and you don't want to read about it before hand, please don't read further until after you've seen the movie.

The movie starts off showing Carl and Ellie ... who both are fans of the same adventurer. Carl is shy and quiet and enjoys thinking about adventure, but he is really more scared and faint of heart. Ellie, on the other hand, desires adventure. She dreams of it. In just random clips (mostly without words) it shows Carl and Ellie growing up and eventually getting married. Ellie still dreams of adventure in South America. Carl is content with life, but he wants Ellie to be happy. They save for their adventure, but things happen to prevent them from going ... broken arms, house repairs, etc. And yet, the scenes show the two characters loving each other through it all. The scenes that clip by are just mundane, normal life ... dusting the living room, washing the windows, going to work, etc. And yet, there is just obvious love and affection, even though there is no big adventure. Carl and Ellie grow old just going through the normal, everyday life, always loving each other.

Tears streamed down my face ... what it must be like to experience a love like that! Marriage is more about the everyday living, day in and day out, than it is about the big moments of adventure or romance or special times. It's about choosing to live life together, choosing to love each other while you wash the windows or dust the mantle. It's about every day for the rest of your life. I think the great disappointment in my life has been the failure of my 14 year marriage ... I never dreamed that would happen to me, and so when it did it sort of took me by surprise, even though now that I look back I can see the writing on the wall.

The movie shows how Ellie dies, without ever having realized her dream of adventure. Eventually, Carl tries to take the adventure Ellie dreamed of even though she can't go along. Even as he realizes her dream and it begins to come true, he feels like a failure because she isn't there with him. Then he discovers a note from Ellie, in her childhood adventure book ... she has placed pictures of their life together in her book as her life's adventure and then instructs him to go find new adventures of his own now that she is gone. And the next scenes (again without words) show Carl learning to enjoy life without Ellie by his side, as he has new everyday normal adventures, such as eating ice cream and going on hikes and visiting the zoo.

Monday, June 22nd will officially mark the end of my marriage. Over the past two years, I've come to terms with it in many respects. I don't grieve like I once did. I know that I did give it my all ... I tried my hardest to make it work when everything was falling apart. But the past week my heart has felt heavy, almost as if once again I feel a burden from the failure of my marriage. And yet, as those final scenes played out, it was almost like a whisper from God ... like He was saying to me, "It's okay ... now go ahead and have some new adventures. You've still got a lot of life ahead, so enjoy living it to the fullest."

So at the end of the movie, I was crying too ... I believe that God speaks to us in many ways. Sometimes in it is through the Bible or through a song or through a person. This weekend, God spoke to me at a movie. And He gave me an extra measure of peace about losing my marriage. And I've no doubt the He will continue to trade me all of my ashes for something more beautiful ... just as He has been faithful to do for the last 2 years.

I hope that someday God will give me a second chance at loving someone. I have a lot of dreams about that. I try not to make it a fairy tale in my head. Life and love isn't about fairy tales and romance and adventure. Of course, those things are great and have their place in life ... and I think that sometimes love can feel like those things. But I think that a real and true love is more about washing windows and dusting the mantle and eating ice cream together, as you choose to live out love in a more everyday kind of way... and I look forward to the possibility of having someone special (besides my children ) to share those everyday adventures with for a lifetime.

Corners

2009-06-20T09:45:00.003-05:00

The kids and I sponsor a child through Compassion International ... a little 5 year old boy named Zavario who is from Uganda. It's a recent thing for us, and a way for us to be involved in worldwide missions even though we can't go serve ourselves.

From time to time I get an email from Compassion International. This morning I got one and it included a link for an 11 minute film on the unfairness of God's grace. I watched it and found the message inspiring .... by the end I was crying.

Here's the link: http://player.flannel.org/compassion?utm_source=SilverpopMailing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=SP_ADV-0212_NOOMA%20(1)&utm_content=&referer=corner

If you have 11 minutes to spare, please go watch this short film. If you have $32 a month, please consider sponsoring a child with Compassion ... it is more than just food and clothes. It's about sharing the love of Jesus with children all over the world.

And honestly ... for this Southern Baptist girl ... it is more real than giving to Lottie Moon. I do give to Lottie Moon and fully support our SBC missionaries worldwide, but I've never had personal contact with anyone that my money touches. Missionaries will often visit churches and show slideshows and tell us how our offerings help ... but I've never encountered those people that the missionaries serve. But with my Compassion offering, every so often I get letters and pictures from Zavario ... and I can read about how my gifts are helping his family. Just opening up an envelope that contains a drawing he colored for us makes it so much more real to me and the kids, and encourages us to know that our small amount of money is doing something wonderful and good in the life of another person.

That's my personal experience anyway ... and after all, I don't suppose it is really about how we serve or give because God can use all of us in a myriad of ways. Rather it is about making sure we are leaving the corners.

God's Love Looks Like Blueberries

2009-06-18T09:16:00.003-05:00

Four summers ago I was living in this great little home in rural southeast Georgia. Matt was training at Officer Candidate School, and I was at home with a 5 year old, a 3 year old and a not-quite-two year old. And we had blueberry bushes!

I know it might seem strange, but I remember that summer as being the most perfect summer I can recall. I was so happy at home with the kids ... we played in the sprinkler and the sandbox and enjoyed playdates at the park. And every evening we picked blueberries off of the bushes in the backyard. Nathan and Julia would eat them straight off the bushes. Joel and I would pick until our bowls were full and our legs were itching from the mosquito bites.

In the mornings, I'd eat cottage cheese with fresh blueberries. I made big batches of blueberry muffins, or filled the kids up on suppers of blueberry pancakes. My mother came to visit and made us a blueberry cobbler. I had friends come over and pick blueberries to take home with them. There were so many blueberries that we really couldn't pick them all.

That fall, we moved to Virginia. My life was really never the same in so many ways. While I know I can never go back and recapture those moments of the precious summer, I have often longed for and even prayed for blueberry bushes in my backyard.

Fast forward to this week ... it's been a hard one. There are a myriad of reasons. We are still living out of boxes and it is so hard for me as a working mom to come home in the evenings and cook dinner and spend time with the kids and still manage to have energy to unpack yet another box. My kids are having a hard time adjusting. After nearly two years, my divorce will be officially final next week. Even though I've come to terms with that situation it is still sort of like a small stab in the heart for divorce was never part of my plan for my life. I'm uncertain about what to do with my job or the kids' schooling. In other words, my life feels like it is in a state of upheaval. And I've been praying for peace ...

Last night I was feeling especially down. I even shed a few tears as I was cleaning up the kitchen from supper. The kids had gone outside to play in the water hose, so I went out to walk the dog and watch them. There is an area of my yard that is secluded on the opposite side of my storage shed. I haven't spent much time over there ... not any reason to really. But last night the dog led me there as she seached for the perfect place to do her business. And that's when I discovered them ...

Blueberry bushes! Four of them, loaded with ripe blueberries! It was like this amazing hug from God. It was as if He leaned right down and put His arms around me and whispered in my ear how much He loved me. Sometimes I think that God is all about just meeting our needs. And yet, sometimes He just takes my breath away when He gives me something like blueberry bushes. I forget that He wants to give us our desires, too.

I think I squealed with delight ... and called for the kids, who ran in the house for bowls. We picked an enormous bowlful, while we talked and sang. Julia, who has been to cheerleading camp all week, made up a little cheer about God and blueberries ... which I thought was the perfect way to express our happy thanks on the surprise gift.

Last night, after I put the kids to bed, I enjoyed a bowl of blueberries. I had another bowl this morning for breakfast. You see, blueberries are quite possibly my favorite food ... I know for sure it is my favorite fruit. I'm looking forward to a summer of basking in God's goodness and love for me with bowl after bowl of delicious blueberries.

a conversation with Julia

2009-05-25T21:55:00.001-05:00

J: Momma, you know what I'm thinking about?

Me: no ... what's on your mind, sweetie?

J: I'm thinking about getting married. I already know who I'm going to marry when I finally get grown up ... it's Jonathan.

Me: Jonathan? Who is Jonathan?

J: He's not in my class ... he's in Ms. Valentine's class, and he is real romantic. He likes me a lot and I like him a lot.

Me: Why do you like him so much?

J: Well, he's cute ... I love his spiky hair and he wears real nice shirts. And ... (she lowers her voice a little) ... he is a tuffler.

Me: What on earth is a tuffler?

J: You don't know what a tuffler is?! A tuffler is a boy who is real tough. If anyone is bad to me, then he tuffles them up and they don't bother me any more.

Me: Oh, yes ... a tuffler. I see. Well, I do hope he isn't hurting people and getting in trouble for fighting at school.

(and yes ... I'm laughing while I'm saying that!)

J: If you don't stop laughing, I am going to call him right this minute and he will come tuffle you, too! (a little pause) OH ... and I forgot on important thing: Jonathan is a superhero. I am the only one who knows about it though because his mother won't let him wear his costume to school. None of the other kids know he has superpowers ... just me.

Me: Well, that's interesting, Julia ... I'm really glad you like Jonathan so much. But right now I think you should just focus on being friends and not think about marrying him, okay.

J: I'm not marrying him tomorrow, Momma! When he asked me, I just told him that I'd marry him after I'm all grown up. But he already gave me a ring, so it is for real.

Me: Where is it? I'd like to see the ring.

J: I lost it. But he told me it was okay and that he was going to get me another one. This time it will be a pink ring because that's my favorite color.

And then she skipped off ...

Oh, my goodness! I just keep laughing everytime I think about it.

Sweet Words to My Ears

2009-05-21T22:25:00.002-05:00

Tonight Joel snuggled up next to me and said, "Momma ... I want to tell you something about you that you may not know. You take God and the Bible more seriously than a lot of other parents."

I asked him if he thought this was good or bad. And Joel said, "I meant that as a compliment. I think it is a good thing."

I don't know that I've ever heard sweeter words.

The Tale of David Joe

2009-05-20T20:56:00.003-05:00

This morning a traveling Christian comedian walked into our office. It's kind of hard to just walk into my office ... to begin with it is located on the 3rd floor of the courthouse, and secondly there is no working elevator to get you up there. Since there are only 4 people who work on the 3rd floor of the courthouse, no one really ever comes up that way unless they absolutely need to come up there for something. There are days when no one makes the long climb up the stairs at all. The third floor of the courthouse can be a very lonely place to work.

Anyway, this man was just out promoting himself by selling his cd's and trying to drum up a few performances. I guess he thought that the four of us on the third floor might have some influence or something. If we did, do you think we'd be on the third floor?! But since he was from out of town, perhaps he just didn't know ...

He seemed like a nice enough man, in a rather oddball and goofy sort of way. I don't know ... maybe that's the way comedian's are supposed to be. But he was a little on the strange side ... nice, but definitely quirky.

The secretary just had the best conversation with him, though. They must have talked 20 minutes. She found out all about him and was delighted to discover that he was single. Can you see where this is going?

Yes, just before he left, she tried to fix me up on a date with him! I'm not joking ... she said, "Well, now before you go, since you are single and we've got this real nice single lady in our office, let me introduce y'all. Paige, come on out here and meet David Joe!"

I couldn't think of a good excuse not to go out to the main part of the office. She knew I wasn't on the phone and there wasn't any pressing business that I was taking care of ... so I went out to meet David Joe. Of course, as soon as I walked out, the secretary was all giddy as she introduced us. "Paige, this is David Joe ... he's a SINGLE, CHRISTIAN comedian. I thought you might like to meet him, being as you are single and all."

Thankfully, the poor man claimed to have a girlfriend back home in Tuscaloosa, AL. Bless her heart, I'm so glad it is her and not me! And I don't mean that in a mean way ... I'm just not interested in David Joe the traveling Christian comedian, though I wish him well as he travels around sharing God through laughter.

When Jesus Hauls Us Out

2009-05-17T12:54:00.003-05:00

Today is rainy. As we left for church, Joel says, "Momma, I'm wondering about something ... What if it is raining when Jesus hauls us out of here. I'm worried we might get struck by lightening. That wouldn't be good, now would it?"

I had to giggle when I told him that I imagine God has all of that under control and we have no reason to worry about lightening during the rapture. I just laugh every time I think about his word choice ... Jesus hauling us out of here! I'm picturing being thrown over His shoulder like a sack of potatoes or being dragged by the shirt collar. I don't care how He hauls me out, as long as I'm with my Redeemer for eternity I have no reason to worry. Amen!

Up to my Knees

2009-05-16T12:14:00.003-05:00

Joel was talking about which states he wanted to visit. He listed 10 or 12 states and then finally said, "Really I just want to be the first person in my family to visit all of the states." So I asked him if he thought he would eventually reach that goal. He said, "Yes. I think I will, but probably not until we get solar-powered cars."

I thought that was a curious thing to say and so I asked him why he needed a solar-powered car to travel all over the country. Joel gave me this look of shock and said, "Now, Momma! You know that if I don't have a solar-powered car, then I'd have to buy all that gas and I'd end up being up to my knees in debt!"

Goodness ... I'm not sure how I didn't just fall over from laughing right then! But as soon as my son left the room, I just doubled over laughing. Oh, my! Kids say that cutest things ever!

My Future Grandchildren

2009-05-15T21:33:00.004-05:00

I only have 3 children ... and they are no where near having children of their own. However, they are already planning to ensure that I end up with 78 grandkids! It is rather shocking to me too, but it seems to be the consensus among them that they should each have 26 kids so that they can name them from A to Z.

Joel wants all boys. Julia wants all girls. Nathan stated that he would have 13 boys and 13 girls because he wanted to be "fair" to his wife. That was awfully nice of him, don't you think?

Tonight's great entertainment was 3 kids laying on the floor writing out a list of names for these future children. I'll share their lists with you:

Joel's Names:
Adam, Barry, Chris, Derek, Eric, Frank, Grange, Henry, Iracus, Joel, Kart, Lopsy, Marvin, Noel, Opman, Pick, Quennel, Rick, Som, Tucker, Uranus, Varcus, Walden, Xaiver, Yiracus, and Zeptar.

Nathan's Names:
Amos, Beatrice, Calista, Daniel, Elexia, Franklin, Gorgan, Harold, Ignatious, Jessica, Kathy, Linus, Malik, Nathan the 2nd, Oliver, Petrinus, Queenie, Rick, Stacie, Todd, Ursula, Victoria, Wayne, Xavier, Yolanda and Zavian.

Julia's Names:
Avie, Bailey, Cinderella, Destiny, Ella (after Ella Enchanted), Fiona, Ginger, Heather, Ivy, Julia, Katie (after my mother), Leah, Mary, Norah, Olivia, Paisley, Queen, Rosie, Sovinna, Tonya, Uvonna, Violet, Wendy, Xerenia, Yolanda and Ziphorenia.

Some of the names make me shudder! All I can say is that Christmases ought to be very interesting.

A Kindergarten Dream Come True

2009-05-13T15:20:00.002-05:00

Today was a red letter day for Julia ... one to mark down on the calendar and anticipate with great joy. If you guessed that perhaps she got to meet the Disney princesses or the Care Bears or Hello Kitty in person, then you would be wrong. And she wasn't named Hannah Montana's new BFF either. I'm terribly sorry but no one placed a crown on top of her head and named her "Princess of the World for a Lifetime." You'll just have to guess again! Or better yet, I'll go ahead and tell you since I'm sure you'll never believe it either.

This is what Julia told me last night, with her hands clasped tightly together and her eyes bright with excitement:

"Momma ... you'll never believe it but it is true and for real and I am not making it up: Tomorrow is party jumper day at school ... and (small gasp) I am the leader!!!!" (all of which was followed by squeals of excitement and clapping of hands)

I can only imagine how very exciting it must have been for little Miss Julia to lead the entire class of kindergarterners all the way from the classroom to the playground for their end-of-school party jumper recess.

My Momma

2009-05-10T22:19:00.007-05:00

Today is Mother's Day ... and even though it is nearly over, it wouldn't be complete if I didn't write a little something about my own mother.

I am my mother's firstborn child. She has said so often that I sort of helped her to grow up, because suddenly she had this other little person who needed to be cared for and loved. Well, I don't know about all of that, but I do know that I couldn't imagine a happier childhood. I can't imagine her loving me any more or any better than she has for the past 36 years.

My momma is creative. I remember so many 4-H or school projects that she helped to make spectacular because of her wonderfully creative ideas. My mother is artistic ... she paints the neatest little watercolor pictures. She isn't crafty in that she doesn't spend a great deal of time making all sorts of crafty creations, but yet every Christmas she makes 2 or 3 or 4 new stockings for our family ... and each one is as unique as the person to whom it belongs. I've never known my mother to really follow recipes (or directions for that matter!), but her food is always so yummy. My brother always says that if you like what Momma cooks tonight, enjoy it because you'll never get it again! My mother is smart and intelligent. She's so well read and is always talking about the latest thing that she has learned or read. Her love for learning and reading have inspired me all of my life.

My mother is not a follower, though she isn't loud about doing things her own way. In fact, my mother is a quiet kind of person. If you don't watch her and pay attention, you might just miss all the wonderful things she is doing so quietly in the background. She is never in the limelight. She'll never be one to toot her own horn or even lead the group. But my mother is always working to make life more pleasant for the rest of us. My mother is full of wisdom. She may not say much, but when she talks it is worth taking note of what she says. My mother is kind and full of compassion and just about everything that I'd like to cultivate in my own life.

So, Momma ... I remember all that you did for me. I remember how every year we would spend a day baking Christmas cookies, and then we took them to people around town. I remember how you were there for every one of those livestock shows (freezing in the stands), and all the basketball games when I just sat on the bench and the dance recitals when you spent an hour or more getting me dressed for my brief 2 minutes on the stage. I remember that Mondays were always spaghetti nights (cause we kids loved it and Daddy didn't and he ate at Rotary on Monday nights). I recall how your berry cobblers tasted amazing on a cold Sunday afternoon in the winter, and how during that big ice storm you made BLT's ... everytime it gets really cold I still think about the wonderful smell and taste of those sandwiches. I remember how you let us sleep in your bed when we were sick and had to stay home from school. I remember how you read to us every night ... and even when I was in college you would still sometimes read my English selections to me. I always liked the way the sound of your voice made me feel.

I could go on and on ... all the little things that you did for me that made my childhood so perfect. I love you ... and I'm so glad that you are my mother. I can't imagine how I could have been any more blessed!

This is a photo of me with my mother on my very first Easter Sunday.

Nathan's Wish

2009-05-10T09:34:00.007-05:00

Nathan's wish for me this mother's day is that he could give me a stretch limo with a chauffeur. Inside would be a flat screen TV and a hot tub. Nate says I could travel everywhere, even to work and back, in style!

The very idea of Nate's wish makes me giggle from the absurdity of it. Currently, I drive about 1/4 of a mile (round trip!) to work .... hardly enough time to make good use of the flat screen TV, much less that hot tub! I suppose that it could be yet another reason I am glad I'm moving, as my daily commute will increase by about 30 miles each way. It really is too bad that this is just wishful dreaming!

It makes me grin from ear to ear to think that my son would dream up such a lavish way to bless me! Quite frankly, I'm just glad my son knows how to dream big! I don't know that I ever really knew how to dream wild and big dreams. For some reason, I never felt like big dreams were meant for me ... or perhaps I just never had the courage to dream big because I was so scared of failure. At any rate, my prayer for all 3 of my babies is that the Lord will fill their hearts with big and lavish dreams for their lives ... and that He would bless them the courage to chase those dreams as they seek His will in their lives!

The Blue Bandit Mom and other Mother's Day Stories

2009-05-08T21:06:00.002-05:00

My three wonderful children came home from school today with Mother's Day gifts for me. It's precious ... sweet gifts of childhood. There is absolutely nothing like receiving a gift that come straight from the heart, especially the heart of a child.

Joel gave me a very prettily colored card with a gift certificate for a trip to Sonic. The catch is that I have to pay for it as he is totally broke! I guess next week I'll cash in my "gift certificate" and we'll go get us some ice cream after supper.

Julia handed me a colored picture along with a questionaire that she answered for her teacher. Here are some of her sweet answers to the questions:

1. How old is your mother? 18

2. What does your mother look like? Blonde hair and very tall

3. What does your mother spend most of her time doing? Well, she cleans A LOT.

4. What is your mother's favorite food? Pickles

5. What is your mother's favorite color? Purple

6. If you could tell your mother one thing, what would it be? You are the best mom in the whole world!

Now, how's that last one for melting a mom's heart?! Of course, her answer to the question about my age made me feel pretty good, too!

Perhaps Nathan's gift was the most interesting ... He made me breakfast in bed in a bag. He decorated his lunch sack with a picture of me sleeping. Here's a scanned image of it:

Note the blue sleep mask that I'm wearing, along with the beautiful pink bow on top of my head. I look like The Blue Bandit or something! I don't know where he gets the impression that I sleep with a sleep mask or a bow in my hair, but he has certainly made me look very lovely in my bed.

On the back of the bag was a poem that read:
Since it is your day,
I have something to say:
Don't lift your head.
Have breakfast in bed!
Just take a look ...
You don't have to cook!
I don't like to brag
But here is breakfast in a bag!
Happy Mother's Day 2009

Inside the bag was a granola bar and a juice box, and another card. This card was created by Nathan just for me. In his extra-nice handwriting, he had written "I'm multiplying my love for you, Momma!" And then he written out a whole bunch of multiplication facts underneath. Very cute!

So as I was driving Mr. Nate to art class, he said, "Mom, I'm really thirsty and hungry." I told him that I didn't have any snacks. He said, "Well, you could share your breakfast with me." So I gave him the granola bar and juice box. Now isn't that just a like a man!

Such sweet gifts from my sweeties! I've been made to feel loved already and my special day hasn't even arrived. I know I have one gift coming on Sunday ... I bought a bible cover and gave it to my mother to have the kids give to me. I'll be surprised on Sunday, though. :)

God's Magnificent Provisions

2009-05-06T18:31:00.003-05:00

I am amazed ...

God's blessing me in a mighty way. I can't even describe the depth of love I am feeling from my loving Heavenly Father. He is pouring out His lavish love upon and I'm overwhelmed! Here are a few of the things going on that are nothing but gifts straight from the hand of God:

1. I found out that Julia's dance teacher gives dance lessons in our new town, so next fall she can continue dance without having to switch teachers.

2. Nathan's art teacher also gives art lessons in the new town, so he is set to continue art with his same teacher as well.

3. The man who does my yard work also does yard work in the new town. That means that I can continue to get great yard care at a wonderful price!

4. I have a new friend in my new town ... Kim. She was introduced to me at random several weeks ago. She has a son with Asperger's (like Joel) and knows who to talk to at the school board office and which teachers to request, etc. She also has been through a similar divorce situation, and so she relates so very much to being a single mother with a special needs child. And, she cuts hair, so I already know who I can go to for hair cuts! YAY!

Every day I'm finding more and more confirmation that is indeed God's plan for my life, and He is being so merciful to me as I begin this new season in my life. I'm anxiously awaiting all that God has for me and the kids in our new home!

My new home

2009-05-03T18:32:00.002-05:00

http://www.jenalouisiana.com/cgi-bin/fcc51000/guestbook.cgi

Here's the link to my new home! It's the 3rd house down, a white house with lots of windows. If you scroll down, you can also see pictures of the kitchen and dining room.

I fell in love with this house just from the picture, but when I saw it in person it really felt like I had come home. It's an older home, with lots of charming qualities. I am praying that the kids and I will be very happy here. This next season may be a long one of just the kids and me in this new town/new house. It could be a short one. Who knows what God has in store for us?! And yet, I'm confident of this one thing .... this is exactly what God would have me to do at this time in my life.

By the way, there is an open invitation for all of our loved ones (both near and far) to come visit us in our new home! We can't wait to show you how the Lord has blessed us!

Achievement Day

2009-05-01T19:54:00.003-05:00

Today was 4-H Achievement Day in my parish. I have spent the last month or more planning for this HUGE event. Every year we have about 300 or more students show up for the big day. We have relay races, a fashion revue, a talent competition, individual and team testing on a variety of topics (like plant/insect identification, pet care, horses, camping), and exhibition contests in woodworking, art, photography and cooking/candy baking.

Perhaps, though, my very favorite part of the day is the song competition. Each of the 7 clubs comes up with their own song based on the theme and 4-H. Every year, I'm amazed the creativity of the songs. This year we had a Western theme, so most of the clubs had a Western sounding 4-H song to share with us. My very favorite was performed by a 4th/5th grade club. They sang a song to the tune of "Home, Home On the Range." They sang 3 verses about all the fun things we have done in 4-H and all the wonderful things they had learned. But I loved the chorus the best of all ... read the words to see why:

So now we are here on the stage
Because 4-H is the rage
We'll do our best
On each of our tests
So we can please Ms. Paige!

Now how cute it that?!

Anyway, we had a great day together ... celebrating another year of 4-H. It's a lot of work to get ready for it, but such a fun day that I can't wait to do it again next year. Tonight, however, I am breathing a HUGE sigh of relief because I've got 11 more months before I have to think about Achievement Day again!

I'm Letting Go

2009-04-29T20:50:00.004-05:00

Two years ago, Matt walked away from me ... and I began to feel like my life was spinning out of control. At first, I did a lot of grasping for anything I could hang onto. I wanted to stop the free fall. I was scared of letting go of all that I knew, and trusting that God was going to catch me.

But as the days, weeks, months and years have slowly passed by, I've learned a lot about faith and trust in God. And now, I actually feel safe being out of control of my own life. I have found that the free fall is actually an okay place to be because I can trust that God is going to catch me and gently place me down in the perfect spot. Things will be better when I land ... I can trust that even though the fall is a little scary, I've actually got nothing to fear.

Recently, I discovered I was going to have to move out of my house as it had been sold. I started immediately to look for a new home. Despite my best efforts, no house was available to me. I couldn't seem to find anything. Again and again and again my search came up empty. As I prayed, God began to make it clear that I needed to search in another town. And, He has confirmed that for me time and time and time again.

So, today I find myself purchasing a home (for the first time ever) in a new town ... free falling again, knowing that God is working out all the details. Free falling .. not knowing why God is moving me or how things are really going to work out. But I'm excited about the future and I'm feeling incredibly safe in this season of letting go and letting God. I can honestly say that moving is not my idea, but I trust that God is doing something really amazing in this situation.

I heard this song by Francesca Battistelli tonight and it just seemed to describe my place in life so perfectly. I found the You Tube video, but I can't seem to embed it here. Oh, well, here's the link to go to You Tube and view it for yourself ... or you can just read the lyrics below.

I'm Letting Go by Francesca Battistelli
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iNEhKLrsUfo

My heart beats, standing on the edge
But my feet have finally left the ledge

Like an acrobat
There’s no turning back

Chorus
I’m letting go
Of the life I planned for me
And my dreams
Losing control
Of my destiny
Feels like I’m falling and that’s what it’s like to believe
So I’m letting go

This is a giant leap of faith
Trusting and trying to embrace

The fear of the unknown
Beyond my comfort zone

Chorus
I’m letting go
Of the life I planned for me
And my dreams
Losing control
Of my destiny
Feels like I’m falling and that’s what it’s like to believe
So I’m letting go

Giving in to your gravity
Knowing You are holding me
I’m not afraid

Feels like I’m falling and that’s what it’s like to believe
Feels like I’m falling and this is the life for me

My Smart Boys

2009-04-27T14:15:00.001-05:00

Warning ... another bragging Momma post!

Both of my boys have been accepted in the academic gifted program. Yay! I'm so thrilled and excited! Apparently, both boys did very well on the gifted tests. I knew that they would, though. They are such smart guys.

Nathan also made the gifted art program. WOO-HOO! He's just an all-around talented kid.

Spring Cleaning in my Soul

2009-04-26T21:07:00.003-05:00

I've been busy doing a lot decluttering in my heart. This spring cleaning has been good for me, but definitely not fun. Every day I'm faced with some ugly truth about myself. The most recent thing I've come to the realize is that I'm 36 years old and to this day I worry more about what someone else *might* think about my life than I do about how Jesus and I feel about my life. :( This concern is cluttering up my mind and my heart. I often can't hear the Lord because of the loudness of this clutter that's clanging around. I long for peace when I make decisions, and I'm seeing that I'll never get that if I'm listening to all the well-meaning people in my life. Far too often, I'm guilty of being a people pleaser, when really all that matters is being a God-pleaser.

Like a Whisper in my Soul

2009-04-26T19:44:00.002-05:00

Last week I applied for a loan on the house ... and you know how it goes, when you start to wonder and worry over if you are doing the "right" thing. I would feel totally confident one minute, only to be plagued by doubts in the next. Waffling back and forth ... obsessing and praying and praying and obsessing. :perplex:

Today, a lady at church spoke with me about her daughter who is moving back to our tiny town due to a divorce situation. :( She was asking me some questions about my experience and as we stood there talking I asked her if C. had found a place to live. The mother nodded yes and then named the house. It was a house that I was trying to rent myself ... and the landlord originally told me yes and then backed out saying that she wasn't able to get things taken care of with the house in order for me to move in.

You know, immediately in my heart I heard a whisper ... it was nearly audible this loud whisper. No doubt it was God, who said to me, "This house was for C. and not for you. I am moving you on and you didn't need to be in that house." It was like a sweet confirmation that I've done the right thing.

Normally, I'd be confused and upset. But today I experience no trace of anger or confusion. I know that the house fell through for me because I'm no longer supposed to be here. Every single door I tried to open was locked tight. God wanted me to move. Besides, I'm thrilled for C. ... she is able to come home and be in this safe cocoon of a town, near her family for this season of healing. And I'm going to be able to leave with peace in my heart, knowing that my own healing season is over and I'm stepping out into the next season of my life which will be in a new town. There will be a new church for me to worship with and new friends for me to enjoy ... new school for the kids, new activities to fill our days and so much to anticipate!

God is incredibly gracious to me. He's been my Protector. He's been my Redeemer, even when I didn't feel like I was worth being redeemed. Now, he is my Encourager ... helping me to boldly step into the new. And with my eyes focused on Him, I'm wildly anticipating the new season that He is bringing into my life.

Math Bee Winner ... Again!

2009-04-25T22:43:00.004-05:00

Last year, Joel won the math bee. He was the school district's 1st grade math champion. (You can actually go back and see last year's post and pictures from the 1st grade math bee: http://goingoutandgoingforth.blogspot.com/2008/05/math-bee-winner.html)

This year, he has won again! Yesterday, Joel competed in the school district math bee and won the second grade trophy. Yay! He competed on stage in two rounds of straight math facts, followed by 2 rounds of word problems. There were six contestants left at the end of the 4 rounds. Those children then took a multiplication timed test to determine the winner. Joel worked the most problems in the 1 minute test, so he was declared the 2nd grade champion. Yay!

I'm so proud of my big boy! I'm always blessed to be his mom, and I'm proud of him every day. But this weekend we are definitely celebrating his math success! And just for clarification ... Joel does not get his math skills from his mother. I am not a math whiz by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I am so mathematically challenged, that in high school I had to take algebra 1 twice! So that makes me extra happy to see how wonderful my son is able to succeed in an area that I've always found terribly challenging.

Way to go, Joel!

(Pictures from the math bee coming soon!)

2009-04-13T22:18:00.002-05:00

I've been experiencing life from the safety of a cocoon.

Sometimes, we need seasons like that ... seasons when we are wrapped snug in a place of love where our hearts are healed and our souls are renewed after a long, hard battle. Without the cocoon, life would be overwhelming. So, we are thankful for the time we can spend in safe keeping out of danger's way.

But in that cocoon, there is also growth that takes place. As time passes on, what was once a place of security eventually becomes uncomfortable. We long to push out and stretch new wings to the sun and experience life from outside the cocoon again.

I'm not sure ... but I think I'm ready to emerge from my own little cocoon. It's been 2 years of living with life on hold. With every day that passes, I feel like I'm becoming more and more tightly wedged into this tiny place. I'm thinking it is time to try to fly again.

Extravagant Easter Blessings

2009-04-12T19:35:00.003-05:00

It's been such a wonderful Easter weekend ... full of wonderful blessings that have touched my heart.

The kids and I traveled with Brooke and my parents down to visit my brother's family near Baton Rouge. My niece Rachel was baptized today. My brother Reid (who is a youth pastor) was able to baptize his daughter, so it was very special to witness this precious moment. Baptism doesn't save a person's soul, but it is a beautiful picture of salvation. I'm so happy that my favorite niece (and I can say that because she's the only one) is also my sister in Christ.

While we were getting ready to watch the baptism service, Julia was full of questions. First of all, she wanted to know if Rachel got a new swimsuit to wear since she was going to have to go all the way under the water. When I said that she wouldn't be wearing a swimsuit, Julia gasped and said, "You mean she has to be naked?!" So funny! Julia also wanted to know when she could be baptized. I love being able to have gentle conversations with my children ... questions that I trust will someday culminate when they ask Jesus to be Lord of their lives.

Another blessing was that I bought a new computer! After a year of debating and praying and trying to decide what I wanted, I finally made a purchase of a Macbook. It's my first laptop ... wel, I do have a laptop that I use at work, but I've never owned a laptop before so it is a first in that respect. I hope I'm happy. Right now, I'm just eager to get everything set up and working. This old computer is really on its last leg ... I hope I'm computer saavy enough to get all of my files from it transferred to my new computer. It's definitely a matter of prayer!

This next little blessing is sort of interesting ... I've been doing the bible study Am I Beautiful? By Angela Thomas. (I love Angela, by the way. Her books are very insightful to my situation in life. Can you believe that I get to hear her speak this weekend?! I'm totally excited because I almost gave up taking this trip to the women's conference in Baton Rouge. Thankfully, I'm going and I'm anxious to see how God speaks to me there and what wonderful things will happen because I was able to attend.)

Back to the Bible study ... Angela begins by talking about how every woman desires to feel beautiful and loved, for some man to find her captivating. She goes on to talk about how it is more important for us to feel captivating and beautiful in the eyes of God than in the eyes of a man. She goes as far as to suggest that we ask God if He finds us beautiful. I didn't realize just how much I craved this feeling until recently. It had been a LONG time since I felt beautiful. I didn't even realize it was missing from my life until I started dating Keith. For those short few weeks, I felt downright gorgeous. When it ended so suddenly, I felt like that gift of being a beautiful woman was ripped from me. So, I started talking to God about it ... and I asked Him if He thought I was beautiful, too.

At the bookstore on Saturday, a lady was selling her book and some friends were drumming up business for her. The friends were walking around passing out daffodils. Daffodils are my all-time favorite flower ... I love them because they are such a happy, yellow color and they practically dance in the spring breezes. When one of those ladies walked up and handed me a daffodil, it was like this wonderful little gift from God. I know that every other lady in that bookstore was getting daffodils, too ... but to me, it was like a kiss from God. You see, daffodils aren't exactly the kind of flower you hand out to others. And the season for daffodils here in Louisiana is past. Those ladies could have been handing out any other kind of flower ... roses, carnations, daisies. But, they were handing out happy, yellow daffodils ... a gift for me from God.

One more thing on a totally different topic... something the boys said to me that made me smile. Julia was being mean to Joel. I guess she hurt him or something. Anyway, Nathan took Joel by the hand and brought him to me. There they stood ... Joel looking all pathetic and hurt while Nathan said this, "Momma ... Julia was being mean to Joel. But Joel was a wise boy because he remembered to overcome evil with good. Only Julia got really mean and hurt him and now he is crying." The whole "overcome evil with good" came from a cd we listen to in the car that teaches bible verses through songs. I love to know that at least some of what I'm trying to teach them is sinking into their brains ... I hope it is going into their hearts, too!

Easter weekend and my heart is full. It's not full of chocolate or little bunnies or spring time flowers. No, my heart is full because my Saviour is blessing me in amazing ways. And He can bless me because He is living ... He is risen! Praise God that the tomb is empty! What a glorious Easter!

I Will Not Be Moved

2009-04-10T20:55:00.004-05:00

I just bought a new Natalie Grant cd ... Relentless. The first song is "I Will Not Be Moved." From the start, it has touched my heart. But it seems that this past week, I've been especially drawn to the chorus. (Actually, the entire cd has been pretty amazing. I'm enjoying it a lot ... and Julia is too. In fact, most nights we dance in the kitchen to Make It Matter. Yeah, I know. Go ahead and laugh, Reid. I'm quite sure that seeing me with my two left feet and total lack of coordination dancing in the kitchen is an incredibly silly sight, but I don't really care because I'm making great memories with my daughter.)

Anyway, I am facing a lot of soul-searching facts from the past 10 days. What I'm seeing about myself isn't all that pretty, but I'm learning that repentance is an amazing thing and the forgiveness that comes afterwards is freeing. This Easter weekend, I'm remembering that I'm just human and that means I will make mistakes. Every single day ... no, every single hour. Not only am I going to make mistakes, but I'm going to have heartaches in this life. Life isn't easy or perfect or all smooth sailing. Life is full of yucky moments ... some of which are a direct result of the mistakes I've made. It's easy to feel bitter or to begin to develop an attitude with God. I'm seeing how much growing in faith that I've got to do.

But it's such a blessing to know that despite all of my mistakes and each of those heartaches or even when I have a stinky attitude, I can rest assured of God's amazing grace. In fact, the mistakes and the heartaches are what makes me so intensely aware of the grace that's continually extended to me. Praise God for that!

So tonight, I'm remember that nothing ... not mistakes or hard times or ugly attitudes ... can move me from what I have been given in Christ. Here's a music video of Natalie's song. (Mom ... you'll probably just want to read the lyrics that I've written out below, and skip the video.)

I Will Not Be Moved (Natalie Grant)

I have been a wayward child
I have acted out
I have questioned Sovereignty
And had my share of doubt
And though sometimes my prayers feel like
They're bouncing off the sky
The hand I hold won't let me go
And is the reason why

I will stumble
I will fall down
But I will not be moved
I will face heartache
I will make mistakes
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

Bitterness has plagued my heart
Many times before
My life has been like broken glass
And I have kept the score
Of all my shattered dreams
And though it seemed
That I was far too gone
My brokeness helped me to see
It's grace I'm standing on

I will stumble
I will fall down
But I will not be moved
I will face heartache
I will make mistakes
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stan
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

And the chaos in my life
Has been a badge I've worn
Though I have been torn
I will not be moved
I will not be moved
I will not be moved
No
I will make mistakes
I will face heartache
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking snad
I will not be moved

A Dancing Man

2009-04-09T19:15:00.003-05:00

As part of the end of testing week at school, HES held a "dance off." Joel tied for 1st place in a 3-way tie, with 1st grader Abbey H. and kindergartener Alston T. (Joel insists that I include the other winners in this post. He's so polite about sharing his dance-off winner title.)

Anyway, according to those adults in the audience, Joel played the air guitar and gyrated like nobody's business. From what I can gather, it was a very interesting performance given by my oldest child, who danced without any inhibitions. Let's just say that Joel doesn't know the meaning of stage fright.

Some days I'm rather amazed by who my kids are growing up to be. And who would have ever guessed that this shy wallflower with two left feet was raising such an amazingly talented dancer?! Tonight I'm feeling challenged by my oldest child to live my life without being so concerned about what onlookers might be thinking ... to live with a wild heart that seeks nothing more than to follow God recklessly despite what the rest of the world thinks about me.

There is a Difference

2009-04-09T08:01:00.002-05:00

This past week has taught me something ... that there is a difference in the brokeness one feels over a life circumstance and the brokeness that one feels over an unclean heart.

I've experienced both to varying degrees this past week. And all I have to say is that I'm thankful for the healing God gives for the one and the forgiveness He extends for the other. Because of mercy, my heart doesn't have to stay broken.

Consistently Inconsistent

2009-04-08T19:41:00.004-05:00

Now that's a strange twist of words, isn't it. Sadly, it is my truth. It is the truth about many areas of my life, but the one that bothers me most right now is my walk with God.

Oh, in the bad times, I know right where to turn. I'm on my knees, weeping and praying. I'm reading my Bible and searching for the truth. I know exactly who to seek when the going is rough. And praise the Lord, He's always come through for me, even though I don't deserve it.

But when the days are good and I'm feeling fine ... well, then I just offer up some half-hearted, rushed prayers and go about my business like I've got no other concerns. I don't seek God's desires for me when the good times are rolling.

God's been pointing that out to me over the past few days. My heart is breaking because of my consistent inconsistency. I'm praying that the Lord will change this life pattern in me for I do want to be a more consistent follower of Christ ... a consistently consistent follower who sticks close to God on the good days as well as the bad days.

I Feel Like I Should Say ...

2009-04-08T06:24:00.002-05:00

I'm okay.

The previous post is almost gut-wrenching for me to re-read this morning, even though I just wrote it last night. Writing is very healing for me, and what I wrote expressed exactly what was on my mind and heart last night. After I wrote it down, I was able to go spend some time praying and reading the Bible. I'm much, much better this morning. Things don't seem nearly as dark or stormy.

No, the trial hasn't passed. But I am seeking the face of God and I know that His hand is holding me. I'm not going to fall off the edge of the earth or be swept away in this little storm.

I wanted anyone who might read my blog and become concerned over my words to know that there isn't any reason to worry over me. I'm fine. I've just had a very hard week and apparently I'd been stuffing back a lot of worries and feelings that suddenly erupted to the surface at the same time causing a mini-breakdown. Thankfully, I'm grounded enough to know exactly where to run when the bad times come and I have all confidence that the Lord will use this thing to create me into the person He has designed me to be.

When God Dreamed of Me ...

2009-04-07T20:48:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I wonder why God created me. This amazing Creator who made a universe full of wonder ... the One who invented the sun, came up with the idea of planets that revolve around the sun and an earth that rotates to have seasons, planned for all the intricate details of our world ... is the same one who invented me. He designed me with all of my personality quirks. If I believe His word to be true, then I have to accept that I am created by Him and in His image. And sometimes my heart wonders why ... why me, like I am?

Why am I here? What is my purpose on this earth? At times, I've felt like I've known the answer to that question. For a long season, I felt like I was useful in loving children who needed love. As a school teacher, it was easy to say that this was my purpose in life. As a wife, I was needed to be a helper for my husband and to bring him joy. For a period of time, I thought my reason for being here was to homeschool my children and to minister to hurting military moms through the chapels on post. I'm honest enough to admit that those were the days when I felt most useful.

But all of those things were stripped away. For two years, I've wondered why. Why? Why was my purpose taken away? Why was I sent here ... to this desert of a place? Why do I feel so utterly useless most of the time? It feels like I'm searching without ever finding ... and so much of the time, I'm not even sure what I'm searching for. Just when I think I've rounded a corner to a place of healing, something happens and I discover that perhaps the journey has just begun. I'm weary of it. I want to feel like I'm needed for something other than preparing meals or finding lost shoes. I just want to be wanted simply because someone really likes me and finds me fascinating ... well, okay, maybe not fascinating but at least likeable enough that I'm cherished for who I am. I want to be able to wake up every morning with a purpose ... a reason for existing. I want to feel like I shine again ... rather than feel that I'm dull at best or invisible at worst.

Today I've been asking God why He made me. I'm not sure anymore ... why me, why here, why this place of all places. Why this church? Why this town? Why this job? Why not what I want anymore? Why were my dreams lost? What dreams do I even have for my future anymore? Who am I? And do I like my cheesecake with strawberry, blueberry or cherry topping? Some days I think I've forgotten even that! Just who is Angela Paige Terry Thompson? What does she like? What are her gifts and talents? Why am I special, and am I called to be more than who I am today? And if I am called, then what am I called for?

And, perhaps this is the very crux of my recent breakdown, I just don't feel loved. Oh, sure ... my parents love me, but they pretty much have to simply because they brought me into this world. My kids love me, but that may only be because I make them fish sticks for dinner and allow them the occasional SpongeBob episode and can nearly always find their missing shoes and they can pretty much bet that I will be a sucker for letting them crawl into bed with me at 2 am. Yes, I feel like I'm just waiting for someone, anyone, to discover me ... to realize that I'm here and that perhaps I'm worth knowing and worth loving for forever.

Which brings me to another thing ... did you notice what a selfish desire that really is? I have to admit that tonight I'm much more interested in who or what can increase my own happiness in my circumstances, instead of what I an do for the Kingdom of God or how my soul can worship that One who loves me more than any other. And that, my friends, is a sad and sobering thought to consider.

Yes, tonight I feel very lost and all alone. Like I'm wandering in a desert just like the Israelites ... and I'm wondering if it will it take me 40 years to find my way out? Oh, Lord, I hope not! I'll be 76 if it does! Exactly how long will this healing take? Personally, I'd like to be totally healed ASAP ... but maybe if I just had a date circled on the calendar it would help me gather my strength and push on through this rough patch! Sadly, I don't think God works quite that way.

A time of healing and mending ... it's been a journey that's lasted two years already. Some days I look and I can see that I've come so far. The footprints in the sands of my life show my progress. I'll look back amazed at all that has transpired and what I've learned in the process. But then there are times, like this past week, when the waves of life seem to overtake me. The storms threaten to take me away completely. My life feels out of control. I can't see where I am at for the pelting rain, the dense fog and the wild wind that howls all around me. If I don't know where I am at, how can I possibly know where I am going? I'm hoping that when it all settles down, I'll discover that this storm has propelled me even further down the road to healing ... but for now, I'm just hanging on by a thread.

All of these questions from this current storm leaves me to ask yet one more thing ... what exactly did God see when He dreamed of me? When He planned for my life, and as He worked out all the details, what did He want for me and my life? I want so badly to be that woman ... the woman He created me to be. All I know to do is to ask and seek and keep pushing ahead ... even as the tears stream down my face, I'm chosing to seek God. For right now about the only thing I am certain of is that I can trust that the very One who dreamed me up, created me and wrote my life's story, will be able to help me become everything that He envisioned I could be.

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost. Luke 19:10 Praise God for that! When my searching seems in vain, I can trust that Providence is seeking me, to save me when I feel so lost. And that, is a wonderful thing to remember on nights like tonight.

For the last nine years ...

2009-04-05T21:19:00.006-05:00

For the last nine years, I've been blessed to be a momma. My first child, Joel Morgan Thompson, entered this world at 5:32 pm on April 4, 2000 in Alexandria, Louisiana ... and with that precise moment my life changed forever. My heart has never ever been the same since I first saw his precious little face, and counted his ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

Joel has always been an exceptionally amazing child. He has the sweetest demeanor and the most loving little ways. Over the years, he has grown and matured in ways that I never dreamed he would. From being fascinated with wheels at 9 months to trains at 2 years to presidents at age 4 to hurricanes and weather at age 8 ... his love for learning and admiration for order have fascinated me.

Joel is growing up and it is a bittersweet thing for me. He's no longer a little boy ... in fact, technically he is halfway grown up. In another short 9 years, he'll be voting age and heading to college and leaving the nest. It often takes me by surprise to realize just how quickly he is changing from a young boy to a big kid. For example, just tonight he was telling me about some female character on a TV show that he thought was "hot" and just a couple of weeks ago Joel gave me "dating" advice. He wanted to make sure that I knew the rules regarding what was a man's responsibility and what was the woman's responsibility. It's funny to think that he now sometimes feels protective of me, when all of these years I've been so protective of him. Watching him grow up makes me feel so proud because I love who he is becoming. I just wish I could hold that sweet little bundle of joy tightly in my arms once again.

Here are some pictures of my sweet baby Joel ...

Joel's first Sunday at church. He was 3 weeks old and if I'm not mistaken it was Easter Sunday.

Joel and I enjoy a spring day when he was 11 1/2 months old.

Joel makes a birthday wish on his second birthday. My wish for him on the weekend of his 9th birthday is the same thing I've prayed ever since the day he was born ... may the Lord richly bless him with a long life full of joy, love and peace.

Joy and Sadness Intertwined

2009-04-05T15:15:00.004-05:00

The past 6 or 8 weeks have been rather interesting for me.

I began dating a man named Keith. I met him online and despite all of my initials worries and fears I found myself enjoying being in a relationship again. The weeks I shared wtih Keith were so positive for me in many ways. I once again felt beautiful and lovable. I felt that, despite being an overweight and frumpy momma to three children, I was once again attractive to someone ... that I was a worth the effort and desirable enough to be sought after. I began to see myself in a different light.

Additionally, time spent talking to Keith and being with him in person taught me a lot about honesty in relationships. While I never lied to Matt about my feelings, but I left a whole lot out. I never ever told him much of how I felt or what my desires were for my life or our marriage. We didn't dream together. I never spoke up and voiced my concerns or my opinions or my thoughts. While our marriage wasn't all bad, the last 7 years of it were really rough. I lived life with a constant knot in my stomach. For so long, I felt unlovable and unforgivable ... and, the worst of it is that I felt unworthy of either of those things.

But with Keith, I always felt like I was a likable and lovable and wonderful person. His fun wild-at-heart kind of spirit made me appreciate all those masculine qualities that have been absent from my life. I'd forgotten what it is like to be protected and cherished. I felt heard and not just listened to ... like what I was saying was important, if for no other reason than it was on my mind. This precious time has given me a tiny glimpse into how sweet that kind of relationship can be for a couple who puts God at the center of a relationship.

Sadly, Keith began to feel like he needed to let go of our relationship. He felt like he needed to focus on other things that God had laid on his heart, and to allow me to focus on things here that perhaps I should spend more time focusing on. Even though it makes me sad that he felt like he needed to end things between us, even the break up has taught me so much. Keith handled it poorly in the beginning. His round about, vague actions hurt me and caused me a lot of pain, even though that wasn't what he intended to do at all. He was just trying to save me hurt. Normally, in my life, I tend to let things like that go ... harbor my thoughts and feelings, nursing my wounds alone. I never have felt like anyone cared enough to hear about my hurts. But, thanks to a year's worth of marriage counseling and to a lot of lessons the Lord has taught me in the past two years, I knew I couldn't let things end like this.

So last night, I was able to share those things all of those things with Keith ... to express my hurt to him about how this played out, and how I felt and what was going on in my head and my heart. It was another wonderful gift to spend that time talking to Keith ... knowing he was hearing me. It helped me to begin healing when he asked for my forgiveness, and for me to be able to extend that forgiveness to him did me a world of good as well. In the end, I think that we are both grieving the loss of what we had, but we are in a place of peace about what has happened. I know that we will be able to proceed as friends without holding onto bitterness and or hard feelings over what happened ... and that he will always hold a special place in my heart.

Thanks to Keith, I now have a precious view of what a future relationship might look like for me. I saw how wonderful it is to be able to love someone in a pure and honest way, to work through conflict and the harder issues in a manner of love and forgivenes. I now can see what I'm looking for in a husband someday ... those wonderful qualities that Keith showed me over the past several weeks are etched into my mind. It is wonderful to know that I am capable of loving someone again, but more importantly that I am worthy of being loved by someone, too. I have felt more beautiful than ever, and I know that someday that right man will come along. It will just be in God's time. As hard as it is today and even thought the tears are still falling so often, I can let go of this and wait for what is to come someday.

The time I spent getting to know Keith is a time I will always cherish. It was a beautiful thing for me to experience and has no doubt changed me in many ways. I got nothing but joy from those days ... even though it was very short. I wish it didn't have to end. I am extremely saddened over the loss of our relationship. I was not really ready to let it go, though God is giving me a peace about what has happened.

Joy and sadness ... how strange to feel both over the same experience.

Caution .... Bragging Momma Alert!

2009-03-18T15:55:00.002-05:00

Here's a picture of the latest painting Nate did in his art class. This one is definitely getting framed and hung on the wall. :)

If I Could, I'd Kiss Him!

2009-03-03T14:58:00.002-06:00

Julia is in love ... Yes, she is in love with Little Joe (Michael Landon) from the old TV western Bonanza.

We don't watch much TV and certainly very little of what is current except for PBS Kids shows and the occasional SpongeBob. However, about 2 nights a week, the kids and I will watch older TV shows that I have DVD. Lately, the boys have been requesting Bonanza.

Julia doesn't like much about Bonanza except for Little Joe. She keeps her eyes peeled for him . She watches intently whenever he is in a scene, and if he isn't in a scene she wants to know "when are they gonna show that handsome guy again?" The last time we watched Bonanza, Julia sighed when it was over and said, "Oh, Mama! You know I'd kiss him if I could!"

Thankfully, kissing Michael Landon will not be a real issue ... but I have to agree that my daughter has good tastes in men.

The Door on the Tree

2009-02-28T13:12:00.002-06:00

Julia was able to spend about an hour playing with the some little friends yesterday afternoon. While they were playing, the 3 girls found a tiny "door" on a tree yesterday. (It was really just a place where the pine bark had fallen away.) But the girls decided amongst themselves that a fairy must live behind the door. Yet no amount of knocking, pleading and leaving of tiny gifts would convince the fairy to come out. The girls decided that the fairy must be sleeping because everyone knows that fairies only come out at night. After all, when does the tooth fairy visit ...

A little more examination around the fairy tree proved that there was a small hole on the opposite side of the tree. Again there was a flurry of excitement as the girls decided this was the back door tunnel to the fairy's home. They used little sticks to dig and pry, and finally one of them ran to get a flashlight to use to see if they could catch a glimpse of the fairy. No such luck ...

Then as suddenly as it started, the magical time was over and the girls left the tree alone. And I was left wondering at the great and imaginative play session I just witnessed. I think that being 5 must mean you live in an age of wonder ... when even the simplest thing can become something mysterious and magical.

Giving Up the Spirit

2009-02-26T06:10:00.003-06:00

Lately, I've been dissatisfied ... in nearly every area of my life. I don't like the house I live in, or the town and parish either for that matter. I'm dissatisfied with many parts of my job. I am extremely dissatisfied with the church I attend. The list goes on and on and on, as I sit and wish for something better ... for example a better library system, or a better grocery store with more options, or a community of people with a broader mindset, or a chance to use my passport and go on an overseas adventure, etc.

This week has been especially hard, and the feeling of dissatisfaction has been nearly unbearable. I think it all started wehn the old jealousy bug up and bit me first thing on Monday morning. I'm not sure if there can be a worse feeling than jealousy! It's just yucky right to the core and it does nothing but breed dissatisfication. Well, I was already plenty dissatisfied, and so after feeling jealous all week ... anyway, I'm sure you can imagine.

Yesterday, I stopped to wonder when I decided to allow myself to become so consumed with what *I* want and dissatisfied with the way things were measuring up to *MY* standards. I'm not called to live life according to my own ideas. Nor am I to measure this world using my own standards and ideals for the measuring stick. The Bible plainly states that God's ways are not man's ways and that as humans we can't fully understand the heart of God.

Wow. Basically, it all boils down to this ... I'm not God. I'm just Paige, a woman who is blessed enough to be living out life in a very cushy situation when compared with the majority of the rest of the world. And because of that, I now have two choices. I can continue to walk down this path of dissatisfaction and grow more and more miserable with every step I take. After all, dissatisfaction only breeds more dissatisfaction. The other choice I can make is to look for the blessings that area all around me, focus on them and actively develop a grateful heart. Gratefulness grows gratefulness, as well as joy and peace and many other good attitudes. Once again the choice is mine to make, despite whatever feelings I may have.

I'm going to purposefully choose the latter, for the thought occurred to me last night that it really isn't my morning computer time that the Lord wants me to give up for Lent. He would much rather me to give up my spirit of dissatisfaction.

Considering Lent

2009-02-21T22:43:00.003-06:00

Normally Baptists don't "do" lent. It's not something we discuss or talk about. And though I've heard the reasons why and totally get the typical Baptist perspective on the why we choose not to participate, I also wonder if perhaps we aren't missing something out on something very special

Please allow me a moment or two to think and ponder as I write ...

Nearly every Southern Baptist church that I've been a member of, and that's been quite a few from coast to coast, only take the Lord's Supper every 2-3 months. I never knew exactly why, but that was just the way it was. In VA, I had the privilege of worshipping at a Christian church for several months. There isn't a huge difference between a Christian church and a Baptist church, but one of the big ones is that in the Christian church they worship through communion at every single worship service. At first, I was hesitant. I was afraid that this special ordinance would become common place if I partook on such a regular basis. But it was quite the opposite ... instead I found that I was growing closer to my Lord and Savior. I was thinking each week about preparing my heart to take communion and my thoughts were more focused on God's ways. Even now, almost 4 years later, I miss those weekly times of communion.

So ... I wonder if pausing to reflect during the Lenten season might have the same affect in my relationship with Christ. I think I will give up my morning computer time, as well as any computer time until the kids are in bed. In its place, I will have prayer/bible study time in the morning, and focus totally on caring for my family and home in the evenings.

I've never once given up a thing for Christ ... well, maybe not going to a college party because I knew there would be drinking or something like that. And yet, He gave so much for me to live with joy and peace and assurance of salvation. By giving up something for 40 days, I can't repay him. But I can hopefully grow closer to my heavenly Father, as I give up an earthly pleasure in pursuit of something more lasting and eternal.

Stuck Somewhere In-Between

2009-02-18T05:47:00.002-06:00

There's a country song by Phil Vassar and the chorus goes like this:

Somewhere in between in the middle
Of the darkness and the light
All I can see is the hazy gray
Between the black and white
I'm not laughin' - I'm not cryin'
I'm not livin' - I'm not dyin' - I'm not flyin'
And I'm not down on my knees
Until I'm over you I'm gonna be stuck
Somewhere in between

Well, I think I'm pretty much "over" Matt in the sense of wanting him to come back. I don't want that at all. I've learned to much about myself and about him to desire to go back into that kind of relationship. He chose not to grow and change with me, and while I wish he had made different choices from the start, I don't want to go back for the world.

However, I'm still stuck, living in the land of "in-between." You see, our divorce is at a stand still, and all because Matt volunteered to go back to Iraq. We are nearly at the point of being able to go back to court to have things finalized. Instead, things are on hold until Matt returns sometime in early 2010, which feels like it is forever and a day away.

Everyone tells me, "Oh, that's great! You get another year of alimony. I wouldn't be in any rush. Just keep taking that money and let him pay you. Milk him for everything you can get!" It all sounds so easy and uncomplicated, doesn't it. Go ahead and admit it ... that' s probably what your advice to me would be as well.

But it isn't easy. I'm stuck. I'm not free of him. I'm still legally his wife. And because of that, I'm unable to fully move on. It's like having unwanted gum stuck to the bottom of my shoes. Every step I take reminds me that it is there. I can sometimes sit still and forget ... but if I get up to go, I am immediately reminded of its presence.

And the truth of the matter is ... I'm tired of being stuck in-between.