I had another blog post ready for today about extended rear facing car seats but I think that post will wait a day or two. Instead I just want to share about what's been on my heart and what God has been doing in my life lately.
The best blog posts I read on other people's site are the ones where they open up and let themselves be vulnerable and I hope to always be real and vulnerable here. This will never be the funniest, wittiest, craftiest, cleverest, do-it-yourself-est blog out there. Not even close. It's just me with my heart on my sleeve.
Life isn't always rainbows and sunshine- although when it is it's great to soak in those moments but there are also moments of grief and heartache.
I am very grateful that I have not lost an extremely close relative. I have my husband, my children, my parents and brother and nephew, Marcus' family, my friends. There are all here with me on this side of heaven. I know I have yet to feel true heartache and grief but I also know that someday I will. My grandma, who I was pretty close to, passed a few years ago and I'd say that was the closest relative of mine that has gone on.
A part of me feels guilt that I haven't experienced that heartache. I don't <i>want</I> to know what it feels like. No one does. But in a world where almost everyone has lost someone close to them- and I haven't really- I feel like I have---somehow cheated? Does that make sense? My heart honestly can't understand what they are going through even though I sympathize and hurt along with them.
With that being said- when I hear about other people losing someone? Especially a child? I feel like I have been stabbed. I feel like an elephant is sitting on my heart. Even if I didn't know the family personally. I just can't imagine.
The phrase "life is precious" seems so inadequate to express what that truly means. But that's what God has been showing me over and over for the past week.
A local couple recently lost their newborn baby during birth. A healthy pregnancy, 9 months of preparation and he's gone. Although I'm not directly related to this family I am cousins to their relatives (if that makes sense) and was excited for them when they were getting close to having their son.
A family I have known for years recently had a healthy baby boy. Almost immediately after his birth their 3 year old daughter, Elise, was diagnosed with leukemia.
My dear cousin, Sara, has been fighting the most aggressive type of breast cancer for 4 years and the battle is getting harder. She was in the hospital this week from severe pain.
My dad's coworker died of a massive heart attack this morning at work. My dad just talked to him not long before it happened.
When my dad called to tell me I was struck with the "that could have been my dad" thought. And it could have. They are almost the same age. My dad's family has a history of heart disease and my dad's dad barely made it past 50 years old.
My heart is heavy for these families. Although I know God is good and he can turn ashes into beauty- the hard days for them will still be hard.
Death is unnatural. Everyone says it's a natural part of living. But it's not. Death entered the world as a result of sin. It's not the way it's supposed to be and someday death will be no more. That's one reason it hurts so bad- it's not normal. It will never get easy or less painful with someone dies, yet we have a God who is the great comforter. Who walks along side of those people hurting, carries them and wipes away their tears. Who gives rays of hope when they think they will never feel hope again.
As God has been showing me how precious and fragile life is- it's been helping me step back from the minor frustrations of my everyday life and see the big picture.
Suddenly my kid's messes aren't that messy.
My household chores aren't that overbearing.
The cluttered counter doesn't clutter up my brain as much.
The public displayed temper tantrum isn't as embarrassing.
My husband's crazy work schedule doesn't bother me so much.
Last night as I looked in their rooms and smiled at their sleeping forms- my heart lifted. I am blessed to be their momma. I am blessed to have my family and friends. I am grateful not to have felt the heartache of losing someone close.
Life is the most important.
I want to hang on to every little bit of it I can.
"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:55-57 NIV)
Showing posts with label Thoughtful. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughtful. Show all posts
Friday, October 26, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Unfinished
Shallow and Immature.
Not you.
Me.
Sometimes when I read something I wrote years ago, or even months ago, I am overcome with a feeling of "wow- that girl has a lot of growing up to do" and I'm tempted to start editing and deleting my own stuff.
I'm nearsighted. Literally and figuratively. It's hard to truly see outside of myself. Yes, there are moments when I do- but they are merely moments. Life quickly pulls me back to my wants, my "needs", my desires. Wanting to be funny, smart, pretty, liked, loved, admired, inspiring. When am I really going to live day to day knowing it's not about me? Is that possible? Being a human? A Sinner with a capital S?
I wonder sometimes about the things I write right now- this post for instance- and how shallow and immature it's going to seem to me if I read it in a few years. Maybe I'll sigh and think oh Amanda, you were so off, wake up girl.
But thinking like that can create fear and unhealthy self-consciousness. It can create a feeling of "why even try if all of this is worthless and meaningless, if I'm yet a babe unable to grasp true reality" but that in itself is still making it about "me".
Even low self-esteem is self-centeredness. Thinking badly about yourself is still thinking about yourself. So I hope to not let my semi-awareness of my own immaturity get me down. I hope to embrace each stumble along the way, each time I make a mistake or hurt someone, each time I'm made unavoidably aware of my sin.
I just keep reminding myself that I'm not completed yet. I'm a work in progress. An unfinished painting.
If you look at me you might not see the picture clearly because the Great Artist isn't done yet. Maybe He just has a few smudges of paint on my canvas so far. It doesn't mean you throw away the painting if it isn't done. It doesn't mean it's a bad painting. There's just not "more" yet. You just have to wait for it to be finished. Knowing that each step is necessary and has a purpose.
Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Phil 1:6
Not you.
Me.
Sometimes when I read something I wrote years ago, or even months ago, I am overcome with a feeling of "wow- that girl has a lot of growing up to do" and I'm tempted to start editing and deleting my own stuff.
I'm nearsighted. Literally and figuratively. It's hard to truly see outside of myself. Yes, there are moments when I do- but they are merely moments. Life quickly pulls me back to my wants, my "needs", my desires. Wanting to be funny, smart, pretty, liked, loved, admired, inspiring. When am I really going to live day to day knowing it's not about me? Is that possible? Being a human? A Sinner with a capital S?
I wonder sometimes about the things I write right now- this post for instance- and how shallow and immature it's going to seem to me if I read it in a few years. Maybe I'll sigh and think oh Amanda, you were so off, wake up girl.
But thinking like that can create fear and unhealthy self-consciousness. It can create a feeling of "why even try if all of this is worthless and meaningless, if I'm yet a babe unable to grasp true reality" but that in itself is still making it about "me".
Even low self-esteem is self-centeredness. Thinking badly about yourself is still thinking about yourself. So I hope to not let my semi-awareness of my own immaturity get me down. I hope to embrace each stumble along the way, each time I make a mistake or hurt someone, each time I'm made unavoidably aware of my sin.
I just keep reminding myself that I'm not completed yet. I'm a work in progress. An unfinished painting.
If you look at me you might not see the picture clearly because the Great Artist isn't done yet. Maybe He just has a few smudges of paint on my canvas so far. It doesn't mean you throw away the painting if it isn't done. It doesn't mean it's a bad painting. There's just not "more" yet. You just have to wait for it to be finished. Knowing that each step is necessary and has a purpose.
Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Phil 1:6
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Scraps
I try to keep my dog, Kiba, from eating people food but when he cleans up the mess around the highchair? I pretend not to notice and am secretly happy I don't have to clean it up.
And sometimes I will give him a little bit of something, usually before I'm about to throw some pieces of leftover food away.
Today I went to give him a piece of bread and called him over. I had a piece of bread in my hand hanging down for him but a few little pieces of it had fallen to the floor.
I stood there waiting while Kiba frantically searched for and ate the scraps of bread on the floor. He never looked up. The big piece of bread in my hand went unnoticed. I thought If he would only look up he would see what I was really trying to give him.
And it hit me.
Is this a small glimpse of how God feels?
Watching us scurry around trying to gobble up little things that we think are good and all the while He is holding something so much better for us? Dangling it right there hoping we would only look up and see.
How many times have we failed to look up and see the blessings He desperately wants to bestow on us?
I know I am guilty of this. Thinking that I know what's good and best for myself- when all the while His plan for me is so much more than I could ever imagine.
I need to get better at looking up.
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"
Jeremiah 29:11
And sometimes I will give him a little bit of something, usually before I'm about to throw some pieces of leftover food away.
Today I went to give him a piece of bread and called him over. I had a piece of bread in my hand hanging down for him but a few little pieces of it had fallen to the floor.
I stood there waiting while Kiba frantically searched for and ate the scraps of bread on the floor. He never looked up. The big piece of bread in my hand went unnoticed. I thought If he would only look up he would see what I was really trying to give him.
And it hit me.
Is this a small glimpse of how God feels?
Watching us scurry around trying to gobble up little things that we think are good and all the while He is holding something so much better for us? Dangling it right there hoping we would only look up and see.
How many times have we failed to look up and see the blessings He desperately wants to bestow on us?
I know I am guilty of this. Thinking that I know what's good and best for myself- when all the while His plan for me is so much more than I could ever imagine.
I need to get better at looking up.
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"
Jeremiah 29:11
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Discovering You
The other night I was about to give Luke a bath and at the last second decided to take a bath with him. I used to do that every once in a while when Nathan was younger and we always had so much fun.
Actually the first time I took a bath with Luke he was about 2 weeks old and it was such a sweet time. However, he got hungry during the bath and I thought "I'll just nurse you right here" and I did. Except everyone who has had a newborn knows about every time they eat: they poop. Yep. The kid pooped all over me. Marcus thought it was pretty hilarious when I screamed for him to help.
Now Luke is 13 months old and we sat there playing with plastic bath toys and the wash cloth. I quickly discovered that he thinks it's the funniest thing in the WHOLE world when I trap air with the wash cloth and put it under water letting him squeeze it out causing bubbles to go everywhere. It kind of makes a fart noise so that figures that he, being a boy, thinks it's hilarious.
I began to ponder about my relationship with him versus my relationship with Nathan. My relationship with them is so different from each other. And of course they are different. My boys are two different people therefore I cannot have the same relationship with each of them. Their personalities aren't the same. They'll each always need something slightly different from me.
With Nathan- I get him. I always have. It feels like we are on the same wavelength. I think that's why we can frustrated each other so easily- because we are so alike! His whole life- I can just look in his eyes and I know. I know what he is feeling. There hasn't been much guessing with him.
But with Luke it's a different story. Although we have bonded through breastfeeding, it sort of feels like it hasn't gone beyond that.
Sometimes when I act silly with him he gives me this look, this stare, and I'm not quite sure if I'm amusing him or if he wants to punch me in the face to get me to stop.
It could have to do somewhat with the fact that he's my second born and I'm more busy than I was when Nathan was this little. It could have to do with his personality being more like Marcus' while Nathan is like me. It could have to do with the fact that Luke is not a cuddlier- he wants to nurse and immediately be put down while Nathan was always content to just sit with me and "be." And also- I've had 4 1/2 years with Nathan and just a year with Luke- so of course I know Nathan better.
However, I'm realizing I'm going to have to discover Luke in a way that I never had to do with Nathan. I'm going to have to be intentional with spending time with him. Figure out what he likes and dislikes. And I might have to discover how to be okay with the thought that Luke might be more independent than Nathan when it comes to what he needs from me. And that's ok.
Because I'm looking forward to discovering him. This blessing from above. This red head spunky child of mine.
I'm looking forward to discovering who my children are. Who God made them to be. And in the end- I believe discovering them will also teach me so much more about myself too.
Actually the first time I took a bath with Luke he was about 2 weeks old and it was such a sweet time. However, he got hungry during the bath and I thought "I'll just nurse you right here" and I did. Except everyone who has had a newborn knows about every time they eat: they poop. Yep. The kid pooped all over me. Marcus thought it was pretty hilarious when I screamed for him to help.
Now Luke is 13 months old and we sat there playing with plastic bath toys and the wash cloth. I quickly discovered that he thinks it's the funniest thing in the WHOLE world when I trap air with the wash cloth and put it under water letting him squeeze it out causing bubbles to go everywhere. It kind of makes a fart noise so that figures that he, being a boy, thinks it's hilarious.
I began to ponder about my relationship with him versus my relationship with Nathan. My relationship with them is so different from each other. And of course they are different. My boys are two different people therefore I cannot have the same relationship with each of them. Their personalities aren't the same. They'll each always need something slightly different from me.
With Nathan- I get him. I always have. It feels like we are on the same wavelength. I think that's why we can frustrated each other so easily- because we are so alike! His whole life- I can just look in his eyes and I know. I know what he is feeling. There hasn't been much guessing with him.
But with Luke it's a different story. Although we have bonded through breastfeeding, it sort of feels like it hasn't gone beyond that.
Sometimes when I act silly with him he gives me this look, this stare, and I'm not quite sure if I'm amusing him or if he wants to punch me in the face to get me to stop.
It could have to do somewhat with the fact that he's my second born and I'm more busy than I was when Nathan was this little. It could have to do with his personality being more like Marcus' while Nathan is like me. It could have to do with the fact that Luke is not a cuddlier- he wants to nurse and immediately be put down while Nathan was always content to just sit with me and "be." And also- I've had 4 1/2 years with Nathan and just a year with Luke- so of course I know Nathan better.
However, I'm realizing I'm going to have to discover Luke in a way that I never had to do with Nathan. I'm going to have to be intentional with spending time with him. Figure out what he likes and dislikes. And I might have to discover how to be okay with the thought that Luke might be more independent than Nathan when it comes to what he needs from me. And that's ok.
Because I'm looking forward to discovering him. This blessing from above. This red head spunky child of mine.
I'm looking forward to discovering who my children are. Who God made them to be. And in the end- I believe discovering them will also teach me so much more about myself too.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
To Myself...
A Letter To My 50 Year Old Self,
Wow. 50? Does it seem like yesterday you were having babies and watching them grow? Life was so busy it flew by? Now you are probably watching your children's children grow.
You must know now what my mom meant everytime she said "It's different in your 50's" Does your energy fade quicker now? Are you not able to get by with 5 hours of sleep like you could when you were younger? Is your reflection different? "Who's face is that in the mirror?" you must wonder.
Do you see those wrinkles? Do you trace them with your finger and wonder how they snuck up so quickly? The ones that frame your mouth- remember that those are from laughing at Nathan's silliness. The ones around your eyes- they developed from smiling at your husband during those times that you realized you definitely don't deserve him but he loves you anyways. The forehead wrinkles are from raising those eyebrows in the "oh no you didn't" look you gave your children when they misbehaved.
Your body is different now. It's a little worn out. It's a little wrinkled and saggy. But please remember and take it to heart. The reason it's like that is because you grew your babies in that body. They stretched you as their little bodies grew. You pushed them out and nourished them with your own body. They scratched you, climbed on you, head banged you, blew their noses on you. They are the little ones who wore that body out and I'm sure you wouldn't have it any other way.
Can I ask you a question 50 year old me? Did it matter? All those times I stuck to my word even though it was hard? The times I probably should have but I didn't? The discipline? The love? The books I read to them? The booboos I kissed and hugs I gave? Did my children feel loved? Secure? Did they grow knowing I would do anything for them? Is it worth it? Did I train their hearts? Did the times I said "no" build their character? Did I prepare them for life in this world?
Did they forgive me when I slipped up and yelled when I shouldn't have? When I punished the wrong child? When I was late to a soccer game or couldn't make it on that field trip because I was working?
Did I really make a difference? Did they grow into wonderful adults who put God first and are filled with compassion for others? I desperately hope so. My soul prays for it.
I know what you are thinking. You probably wish you could go back in time and tell me to savor the moments. Less cleaning and more playing? I'm trying. I promise. It's hard. There are times I know I should just stop "doing" and just "be". But the laundry has to be done. Cooking has to be done. Cleaning has to be done. I can't completely throw it all out the window. So please please know that I tried. That between loads of laundry I grabbed a book to read to my kids. That even if it was only a few minutes I laid down on the floor and let them climb on me while giggling. I tried. It's so fleeting. I can feel it. Time slipping away through my fingers like sand. I want to grab it but I feel like the harder I hold on the faster it goes.
So please remember. You loved and cherished. Don't have regrets. You did your best. Yes you made mistakes. Some small. Some big. But they have made you into who you are today. Your mistakes taught your children that no one is perfect except God and if you lean on Him anything is possible. So own those wrinkles. Wear them proudly. Each one is a precious precious memory.
Love,
You at 29 years old
Wow. 50? Does it seem like yesterday you were having babies and watching them grow? Life was so busy it flew by? Now you are probably watching your children's children grow.
You must know now what my mom meant everytime she said "It's different in your 50's" Does your energy fade quicker now? Are you not able to get by with 5 hours of sleep like you could when you were younger? Is your reflection different? "Who's face is that in the mirror?" you must wonder.
Do you see those wrinkles? Do you trace them with your finger and wonder how they snuck up so quickly? The ones that frame your mouth- remember that those are from laughing at Nathan's silliness. The ones around your eyes- they developed from smiling at your husband during those times that you realized you definitely don't deserve him but he loves you anyways. The forehead wrinkles are from raising those eyebrows in the "oh no you didn't" look you gave your children when they misbehaved.
Your body is different now. It's a little worn out. It's a little wrinkled and saggy. But please remember and take it to heart. The reason it's like that is because you grew your babies in that body. They stretched you as their little bodies grew. You pushed them out and nourished them with your own body. They scratched you, climbed on you, head banged you, blew their noses on you. They are the little ones who wore that body out and I'm sure you wouldn't have it any other way.
Can I ask you a question 50 year old me? Did it matter? All those times I stuck to my word even though it was hard? The times I probably should have but I didn't? The discipline? The love? The books I read to them? The booboos I kissed and hugs I gave? Did my children feel loved? Secure? Did they grow knowing I would do anything for them? Is it worth it? Did I train their hearts? Did the times I said "no" build their character? Did I prepare them for life in this world?
Did they forgive me when I slipped up and yelled when I shouldn't have? When I punished the wrong child? When I was late to a soccer game or couldn't make it on that field trip because I was working?
Did I really make a difference? Did they grow into wonderful adults who put God first and are filled with compassion for others? I desperately hope so. My soul prays for it.
I know what you are thinking. You probably wish you could go back in time and tell me to savor the moments. Less cleaning and more playing? I'm trying. I promise. It's hard. There are times I know I should just stop "doing" and just "be". But the laundry has to be done. Cooking has to be done. Cleaning has to be done. I can't completely throw it all out the window. So please please know that I tried. That between loads of laundry I grabbed a book to read to my kids. That even if it was only a few minutes I laid down on the floor and let them climb on me while giggling. I tried. It's so fleeting. I can feel it. Time slipping away through my fingers like sand. I want to grab it but I feel like the harder I hold on the faster it goes.
So please remember. You loved and cherished. Don't have regrets. You did your best. Yes you made mistakes. Some small. Some big. But they have made you into who you are today. Your mistakes taught your children that no one is perfect except God and if you lean on Him anything is possible. So own those wrinkles. Wear them proudly. Each one is a precious precious memory.
Love,
You at 29 years old
Friday, September 14, 2012
Intentions and Actions
I feel like in a way I've always been an intentional person. I think of things people need or things I can do for others. I dream up how I would go about helping them. What I could buy them. What meal they might enjoy if I cooked for them.
But then I'm snapped out of my thoughts by my screaming toddler and my oldest son who despite the fact that he ate 3 minutes ago is on the verge of tears because he is SOOO hungry. The dog starts jumping on me because he has to go outside to do this business and then I remember that I have to wash cloth diapers and oh right it's bath night for the kids.
Sometimes in the chaos of life with young children there is a quiet whisper in my heart. It's God telling me that I should do ______ for so and so. Unfortunately it's often brushed away with the "I'm too busy. I have two kids and work." excuse.
But the older I get the more and more God keeps sending me the message..."It's not about you."
And it's not. I'm not that important. I'm nothing really. By myself, that is. My only value comes from Who created me and Who loves me and Who saved me. I think deep down we all know that but it's so hard to live that. We come from the womb so needy but somewhere along we way the world or our parents or other people teach us that we're not the center of the universe. It's really not about us.
A few weeks ago at church the pastor was discussing salvation and how to obtain it. That it's a gift. It's not earned by us. The earning was already done for us. We are not saved by good works but we are saved for good works. I felt the tug on my heart. God was saying "I know you are busy, I know you are tired, but every little bit counts."
You see- I tend to be a "go big or go home" type of person in some situations. I do that when it comes to helping others. I dream up this huge plan to help someone in some way or make a really nice meal for them with salad, bread, entree, dessert...and I set up this goal that quickly becomes intimidating and overwhelming.
Maybe I start to think about the times I tried to help someone and they took it as an insult. That by helping them they thought I was saying that they are incapable. Maybe they felt like I was "stepping on their toes."
Maybe incidences start to creep to the forefront of my mind from past experiences where my help went unnoticed (Which I know should never be my reason for helping in the first place- but in my sin it's easy to want that recognition and it's something God has had to work on with me as I grow older. Anonymously helping someone has really helped me grow in this area- it's so much more joyful!)
In the end I often just brush the whole idea to the side and put it in my mental "if I ever get time..." file.
I think what God has been telling me lately is that there are a million opportunities to glorify Him even in small ways. This is so important for me to take to heart in this season of my life when I'm busy whipping snotty noses and kissing boo-boos. Every little bit does count. How many times has someone helped me in a small way yet it felt gigantic to me? A lot.
My goal for myself is to try to turn more intentions into actions. Planning ahead. Don't just think it- do it. And not to get disappointed if I can't quite do it the way I wish I can.
One small thing I've started doing is keeping those disposible aluminum serving containers handy. Then if I think about someone I can make a meal for- I have everything I need. I'm trying to eliminate the easy excuses for things.
I have a long way to go when it comes to serving others. I'm such a selfish person and my own desires often get in the way of what I could be doing for someone else. But God has promised to continue His good work in me until the day of completion and He always fulfills his promises. He's not done with me yet. I just hope I learn to look up from my busy life more and see what can be done in His name.
My prayer is that helping others becomes a norm in our family. That it becomes a part of our day to day life. It may only start out as my children seeing me help or contributing in their small way but eventually I pray it becomes part of their character and defines them.
Learning how (and when and where) to serve others is something that I could never do alone but with God's help I can start taking baby steps in this area of my life and hopefully bring Him more glory by loving those around me. I just keep telling myself "Every little bit counts!"
"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10
But then I'm snapped out of my thoughts by my screaming toddler and my oldest son who despite the fact that he ate 3 minutes ago is on the verge of tears because he is SOOO hungry. The dog starts jumping on me because he has to go outside to do this business and then I remember that I have to wash cloth diapers and oh right it's bath night for the kids.
Sometimes in the chaos of life with young children there is a quiet whisper in my heart. It's God telling me that I should do ______ for so and so. Unfortunately it's often brushed away with the "I'm too busy. I have two kids and work." excuse.
But the older I get the more and more God keeps sending me the message..."It's not about you."
And it's not. I'm not that important. I'm nothing really. By myself, that is. My only value comes from Who created me and Who loves me and Who saved me. I think deep down we all know that but it's so hard to live that. We come from the womb so needy but somewhere along we way the world or our parents or other people teach us that we're not the center of the universe. It's really not about us.
A few weeks ago at church the pastor was discussing salvation and how to obtain it. That it's a gift. It's not earned by us. The earning was already done for us. We are not saved by good works but we are saved for good works. I felt the tug on my heart. God was saying "I know you are busy, I know you are tired, but every little bit counts."
You see- I tend to be a "go big or go home" type of person in some situations. I do that when it comes to helping others. I dream up this huge plan to help someone in some way or make a really nice meal for them with salad, bread, entree, dessert...and I set up this goal that quickly becomes intimidating and overwhelming.
Maybe I start to think about the times I tried to help someone and they took it as an insult. That by helping them they thought I was saying that they are incapable. Maybe they felt like I was "stepping on their toes."
Maybe incidences start to creep to the forefront of my mind from past experiences where my help went unnoticed (Which I know should never be my reason for helping in the first place- but in my sin it's easy to want that recognition and it's something God has had to work on with me as I grow older. Anonymously helping someone has really helped me grow in this area- it's so much more joyful!)
In the end I often just brush the whole idea to the side and put it in my mental "if I ever get time..." file.
I think what God has been telling me lately is that there are a million opportunities to glorify Him even in small ways. This is so important for me to take to heart in this season of my life when I'm busy whipping snotty noses and kissing boo-boos. Every little bit does count. How many times has someone helped me in a small way yet it felt gigantic to me? A lot.
My goal for myself is to try to turn more intentions into actions. Planning ahead. Don't just think it- do it. And not to get disappointed if I can't quite do it the way I wish I can.
One small thing I've started doing is keeping those disposible aluminum serving containers handy. Then if I think about someone I can make a meal for- I have everything I need. I'm trying to eliminate the easy excuses for things.
I have a long way to go when it comes to serving others. I'm such a selfish person and my own desires often get in the way of what I could be doing for someone else. But God has promised to continue His good work in me until the day of completion and He always fulfills his promises. He's not done with me yet. I just hope I learn to look up from my busy life more and see what can be done in His name.
My prayer is that helping others becomes a norm in our family. That it becomes a part of our day to day life. It may only start out as my children seeing me help or contributing in their small way but eventually I pray it becomes part of their character and defines them.
Learning how (and when and where) to serve others is something that I could never do alone but with God's help I can start taking baby steps in this area of my life and hopefully bring Him more glory by loving those around me. I just keep telling myself "Every little bit counts!"
"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10
Friday, August 17, 2012
Fragile
On Monday my glasses broke. My only pair and I don't have contacts. The thin metal piece just crumbled.
Thinking back I feel this foreshadowed that I would be reminded over and over again in the next few days just how fragile life can be.
Sometimes the most precious things are the most vulnerable- maybe that's what makes them precious in the first place.
My great aunt died this week. Pneumonia had attacked several times recently and this time her body was too weak to fight it. I didn't know her very well. She was my grandma's sister and I was very close to my grandma when she was alive.
A close family member was also diagnosed with breast cancer this week after surgery to remove a lump.
Another family member is about to begin another round of chemotherapy for her breast cancer.
In the midst of being reminded how fragile we are as humans God reminded me last night how powerful He is.
For the first time in probably 10 years I hung out with my brother, my only sibling, last night and had a real conversation with him.
I marveled at the changes in his life recently. That God has helped him to step back and really see his life and how the choices he makes affects himself and those around him.
During our entire conversation I was holding back tears as all of the memories of prayers on his behalf began flashing through my mind.
I felt God in my heart say "Do you see Amanda? All those prayers never went to waste. Even years later you see that I had been at work that whole time. Anything is possible through me. Do not doubt. I am always at work. I always have a good plan."
We sat there eating Burger King at 11:00pm in a little apartment while it stormed outside talking about little things and big things and the people we love. It was possibly one of the most precious conversations I have ever had. I left with my heart so happy and proud of the man he is becoming and I look forward to starting a new friendship with him.
Today we celebrate my mom's birthday. The sweetest, most caring and selfless person I know. It only seems fitting to be celebrating her at the end of a week where I was reminded how fleeting this all is.
I hope she has a Happy Birthday. And I hope she feels so loved. As she opens her present from me I pray she knows how much thought went into it and that it too is a reminder of the precious fragile things in life.
Happy Birthday Mom :)
Thinking back I feel this foreshadowed that I would be reminded over and over again in the next few days just how fragile life can be.
Sometimes the most precious things are the most vulnerable- maybe that's what makes them precious in the first place.
My great aunt died this week. Pneumonia had attacked several times recently and this time her body was too weak to fight it. I didn't know her very well. She was my grandma's sister and I was very close to my grandma when she was alive.
A close family member was also diagnosed with breast cancer this week after surgery to remove a lump.
Another family member is about to begin another round of chemotherapy for her breast cancer.
In the midst of being reminded how fragile we are as humans God reminded me last night how powerful He is.
For the first time in probably 10 years I hung out with my brother, my only sibling, last night and had a real conversation with him.
I marveled at the changes in his life recently. That God has helped him to step back and really see his life and how the choices he makes affects himself and those around him.
During our entire conversation I was holding back tears as all of the memories of prayers on his behalf began flashing through my mind.
I felt God in my heart say "Do you see Amanda? All those prayers never went to waste. Even years later you see that I had been at work that whole time. Anything is possible through me. Do not doubt. I am always at work. I always have a good plan."
We sat there eating Burger King at 11:00pm in a little apartment while it stormed outside talking about little things and big things and the people we love. It was possibly one of the most precious conversations I have ever had. I left with my heart so happy and proud of the man he is becoming and I look forward to starting a new friendship with him.
Today we celebrate my mom's birthday. The sweetest, most caring and selfless person I know. It only seems fitting to be celebrating her at the end of a week where I was reminded how fleeting this all is.
I hope she has a Happy Birthday. And I hope she feels so loved. As she opens her present from me I pray she knows how much thought went into it and that it too is a reminder of the precious fragile things in life.
Happy Birthday Mom :)
Friday, January 6, 2012
Lunch With Strangers
During the holidays there was a day where I got off work at noon. For half the day I was receiving holiday pay. Yippee!
My original plans were to go pick up the boys from my aunt's house and take them home early.
But the night before I realized how silly that was. Hello? I had a few hours to myself that I would be able to use as I please. As a working mom- or any mom for that matter- this opportunity doesn't present itself very often.
Plus- the boys' cousins were at my aunt's house as well and I knew if I tried to take Nathan home early it would result in a complete "how dare you take me away from this place where I'm having the most fun ever and make me go hooommmeeee???!!!" meltdown. Cuz yanno- home- isn't it the place where his family is and his toys and good food and love? Yeah- but that never seems appealing when you're having fun somewhere else.
So I let my aunt know I got off work at noon but wouldn't be there to get the boys for several hours afterwards.
Now- what was I to do? Lunch alone and a good book felt like it would be pure bliss.
So after work I went to the store and got the second book in the trilogy I was reading and decided on a yummy lunch at Panera bread- one of my favorite places to eat.
I walked into Panera and whooooa the place was packed!! It appeared every seat was taken. Every.last.one. It guess being close to the holidays many other people were enjoying time off from work.
I ordered my food anyways and began roaming for a table- eyeing people to see if they were done eating and might possibly be getting up soon.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
THERE!
A vacant table.
I ran and threw myself on top of the table attacking it like a lion to a zebra in Africa.
Ok not really but I did quickly make my way to it and gracefully sat down- feeling a little guilty that my measly little self was taking up a table for four- but there were no other options.
Right when I took a bite of my sandwich and picked up my delightful book anticipating to be mentally transported to Italy- a woman came up to me.
"Would you mind if my friend and I join you?" she asked.
She was an older woman with a very warm smile- and although a part of me was disappointed for a second that I wasn't going to get my lunch alone with book experience- I said "I don't mind" and they took their seats.
Nancy and Ruth.
The next 40 minutes we talked about nothing and everything. Nancy was in her 80's a Ruth was in her 50's.
We talked about family and jobs and inheritance (Nancy was buying her granddaughter a house for part of her inheritance- whhaaa?) and which bank has the best customer service (Nancy felt passionately about this). Books. Food. Christmas. Churches. Jewerly. Broadway. We talked a lot and by the end of lunch any passerby would have thought we were grandmother, daughter, and granddaugter.
Our conversation was sweet and easy. And it didn't take long for me to know that this was much more refreshing than lunch alone with a book.
I knew as soon as they sat down this happened for a reason. If the only reason was to lift eachother's moods- it was still a reason.
In fact shortly after they sat down a table nearby opened up. I saw them eye it and than Nancy said "let's stay here and leave that for someone else who needs it" and I was glad they stayed :)
It got me thinking though...this whole lunch with strangers...
Of how we react to those around us.
How little eye contact we share.
How many times someone opened the door for me and even though I murmured a "thank you" I didn't even look at their face as I said it.
An elevator ride alone with a stranger where both people stay quiet instead of sharing a short simple conversation.
When did we become a society that only invests in ongoing relationships?
When did any interaction with someone we don't know become not worth our time?
When did we assume we don't have anything to learn from eachother?
When did we become so alone in a world full of people?
What if we did make more of an effort to make eye contact, have short conversations with someone you don't know, or even take the risky move of having lunch with strangers?
We always focus on the negative encounters with strangers. That person who might give you a nasty look when your toddler is having a melt down for example.
But what if we all became better strangers? Helping strangers in little ways. Opening doors more. Telling people you hope they have a wonderful day and MEAN IT. Smiling more at people. Complimenting strangers.
Yes there are some wackos out there and definitely strangers we need to stay clear of.
But there is also a lot of good we can receive from strangers and simple things we can do and say to lift someone's mood.
I hope I never forget my lunch with Nancy and Ruth.
God knew I needed that more than being alone with my book.
And I hope I become a better stranger because of it.
Have a great Friday!
My original plans were to go pick up the boys from my aunt's house and take them home early.
But the night before I realized how silly that was. Hello? I had a few hours to myself that I would be able to use as I please. As a working mom- or any mom for that matter- this opportunity doesn't present itself very often.
Plus- the boys' cousins were at my aunt's house as well and I knew if I tried to take Nathan home early it would result in a complete "how dare you take me away from this place where I'm having the most fun ever and make me go hooommmeeee???!!!" meltdown. Cuz yanno- home- isn't it the place where his family is and his toys and good food and love? Yeah- but that never seems appealing when you're having fun somewhere else.
So I let my aunt know I got off work at noon but wouldn't be there to get the boys for several hours afterwards.
Now- what was I to do? Lunch alone and a good book felt like it would be pure bliss.
So after work I went to the store and got the second book in the trilogy I was reading and decided on a yummy lunch at Panera bread- one of my favorite places to eat.
I walked into Panera and whooooa the place was packed!! It appeared every seat was taken. Every.last.one. It guess being close to the holidays many other people were enjoying time off from work.
I ordered my food anyways and began roaming for a table- eyeing people to see if they were done eating and might possibly be getting up soon.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
THERE!
A vacant table.
I ran and threw myself on top of the table attacking it like a lion to a zebra in Africa.
Ok not really but I did quickly make my way to it and gracefully sat down- feeling a little guilty that my measly little self was taking up a table for four- but there were no other options.
Right when I took a bite of my sandwich and picked up my delightful book anticipating to be mentally transported to Italy- a woman came up to me.
"Would you mind if my friend and I join you?" she asked.
She was an older woman with a very warm smile- and although a part of me was disappointed for a second that I wasn't going to get my lunch alone with book experience- I said "I don't mind" and they took their seats.
Nancy and Ruth.
The next 40 minutes we talked about nothing and everything. Nancy was in her 80's a Ruth was in her 50's.
We talked about family and jobs and inheritance (Nancy was buying her granddaughter a house for part of her inheritance- whhaaa?) and which bank has the best customer service (Nancy felt passionately about this). Books. Food. Christmas. Churches. Jewerly. Broadway. We talked a lot and by the end of lunch any passerby would have thought we were grandmother, daughter, and granddaugter.
Our conversation was sweet and easy. And it didn't take long for me to know that this was much more refreshing than lunch alone with a book.
I knew as soon as they sat down this happened for a reason. If the only reason was to lift eachother's moods- it was still a reason.
In fact shortly after they sat down a table nearby opened up. I saw them eye it and than Nancy said "let's stay here and leave that for someone else who needs it" and I was glad they stayed :)
It got me thinking though...this whole lunch with strangers...
Of how we react to those around us.
How little eye contact we share.
How many times someone opened the door for me and even though I murmured a "thank you" I didn't even look at their face as I said it.
An elevator ride alone with a stranger where both people stay quiet instead of sharing a short simple conversation.
When did we become a society that only invests in ongoing relationships?
When did any interaction with someone we don't know become not worth our time?
When did we assume we don't have anything to learn from eachother?
When did we become so alone in a world full of people?
What if we did make more of an effort to make eye contact, have short conversations with someone you don't know, or even take the risky move of having lunch with strangers?
We always focus on the negative encounters with strangers. That person who might give you a nasty look when your toddler is having a melt down for example.
But what if we all became better strangers? Helping strangers in little ways. Opening doors more. Telling people you hope they have a wonderful day and MEAN IT. Smiling more at people. Complimenting strangers.
Yes there are some wackos out there and definitely strangers we need to stay clear of.
But there is also a lot of good we can receive from strangers and simple things we can do and say to lift someone's mood.
I hope I never forget my lunch with Nancy and Ruth.
God knew I needed that more than being alone with my book.
And I hope I become a better stranger because of it.
Have a great Friday!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
The Ornament on the Bottom of the Tree
Isn't it funny how the littlest things (and littlest people) can teach you big lessons?
On Monday we decorated our house for Christmas. I was going to do it this past weekend when Nathan was away at my MIL's but when I mentioned it he said "No! I wanna help" and I was so touched that he was interested in helping so we put it off til this week.
I decided to only put up the small tree this year and go with minimum decorations. Not sure why. (I plan on making my super cool 3D paper snowflakes soon and doing a DIY post! Yippee!)
We got the tree together and I started putting hooks on ornaments and handing them to Marcus and Nathan to place on the tree. After we were done I gave it a good look over and saw this ornament hanging on the very bottom of the tree. Kinda of lost in it's old world and sticking out like a sore thumb.
You see, I like things orderly. Not in an obsessive compulsive type of way- but in a "that picture is slightly crooked and will continue to bug me unless I fix it" sort of way.
My house is in no way "in order" but there are certain things I like a certain way. I think we all have our "thing" and an ornament hanging all by it lonesome on the bottom of the tree just irked me a little. It made the tree look uneven.
So I moved it and went about my evening.
30 minutes later I noticed that it was back.
I thought about moving it again and stopped myself. What was I doing? Why was it so important that the tree look uniform? So what if there was an ornament hanging off of the bottom? Apparently that's where Nathan thought it should go if he took the time to move it back there after I had placed it up higher on the tree.
So I left it for the time being, thinking that I would probably give in an move it again the next day.
I tell ya. It still kind of bugs me that it's still hanging there like that. But it's also a reminder of the sweet little hand that placed it there, which is connected to the sweet little boy who brings so much joy to my life.
Since Tuesday my eye has been drawn to that little ornament and now I don't dare think about moving it. My "itch" to be uniform and orderly must take a back seat to my son's desire to hang an ornament his way- even when it's not my way. We think parenting is about teaching them so much but I'm starting to learn my son will teach me 100x's more things during his life than I could ever teach him.
Happy Wednesday :o)
On Monday we decorated our house for Christmas. I was going to do it this past weekend when Nathan was away at my MIL's but when I mentioned it he said "No! I wanna help" and I was so touched that he was interested in helping so we put it off til this week.
I decided to only put up the small tree this year and go with minimum decorations. Not sure why. (I plan on making my super cool 3D paper snowflakes soon and doing a DIY post! Yippee!)
We got the tree together and I started putting hooks on ornaments and handing them to Marcus and Nathan to place on the tree. After we were done I gave it a good look over and saw this ornament hanging on the very bottom of the tree. Kinda of lost in it's old world and sticking out like a sore thumb.
You see, I like things orderly. Not in an obsessive compulsive type of way- but in a "that picture is slightly crooked and will continue to bug me unless I fix it" sort of way.
My house is in no way "in order" but there are certain things I like a certain way. I think we all have our "thing" and an ornament hanging all by it lonesome on the bottom of the tree just irked me a little. It made the tree look uneven.
So I moved it and went about my evening.
30 minutes later I noticed that it was back.
I thought about moving it again and stopped myself. What was I doing? Why was it so important that the tree look uniform? So what if there was an ornament hanging off of the bottom? Apparently that's where Nathan thought it should go if he took the time to move it back there after I had placed it up higher on the tree.
So I left it for the time being, thinking that I would probably give in an move it again the next day.
I tell ya. It still kind of bugs me that it's still hanging there like that. But it's also a reminder of the sweet little hand that placed it there, which is connected to the sweet little boy who brings so much joy to my life.
Since Tuesday my eye has been drawn to that little ornament and now I don't dare think about moving it. My "itch" to be uniform and orderly must take a back seat to my son's desire to hang an ornament his way- even when it's not my way. We think parenting is about teaching them so much but I'm starting to learn my son will teach me 100x's more things during his life than I could ever teach him.
Happy Wednesday :o)
Monday, November 21, 2011
The Bright Side (of a poopypeewater mess)
Today was one of those days where everything was going well.
It was a perfect day at work and although it took me twice as long to get home due to traffic I was in a pretty chipper mood.
When I got home I asked Marcus to give Nathan a bath so I could do some quick housework. Number one on the agenda was to wash the cloth diapers so I put them in the washer, hit the rinse cycle, and turned my attention to another chore.
My goal was to do housework for about 45 mins, warm up left over pot roast, eat dinner together, and sit on the couch to watch a movie.
It was turning out to be a good evening and I was hoping to be in bed by 11:00pm.
The washer? Had other plans.
A minute after I left the kitchen I hear Marcus yell for me. Ough oh. What? I walk into the kitchen and find water evvvvverywhere. I had just left that room a minute ago and everything was fine!
The drain from the washer decided to slip out- leaving an inch of water in the laundry room and kitchen.
But not just water. Poopy Pee Water! I was rinsing Luke's cloth diapers and THAT's what drained.
Immediately I felt all the energy drain from my body.
I would have to pull the washer and dryer out to clean underneath them. The towels that would soak up the water would need to be washed. And of course I would need to mop to disinfect the floor now (and my steam mop is clogged right now...) And this was right when I was on the brink of "me" time. You know what I mean? That little window of time at the end of the day to spend with your family? The time that I look forward to alllllll day. The time where I get to hold my new little baby who I haven't seen since 2am the night before.
:::sigh::: Well at least the bright side was....
wait....
where was the bright side?
I'm one of those annoying people that can always see the good in things. I think there is a purpose for everything and even when things go wrong I believe they happen for a reason.
So where was the bright side to this scenario and why couldn't I find it?
As I bent down behind the washer and cleaned the floor. As I got frustrated trying to reattach the aluminum dryer connector thingy. As I yelled (ok, told loudly?) to Nathan not to come into the kitchen since the floor was covering in poopypeewater. I kept searching for the glimmer of the bright side for all this while feeling my mood go from cheerful to sour.
What was wrong with me? Things like this usually don't ruin my day.
Was it due to the lack of sleep from the 2am feedings?
Maybe it was because last week Nathan scooped peewater out of the toilet and made puddles in his bedroom with it? (which led to me researching and buying a hoover steam vac in under 5 mins)
Or because the next day he decided to pee in the plastic drawer of his play kitchen?
Or because he CANNOT aim correctly so I'm left with a bathroom floor that needs cleaning attention daily? (what's with boys and pee? I'm so over cleaning up bodily fluids!)
I KNEW something like this shouldn't ruin my day but somehow I let it. I let it get me down. I KNEW it was no big deal. I KNEW there are a billion bigger issues in the galaxy besides my poopypeewater kitchen floor. Yet I still couldn't muster that "ok let's just clean it up and continue with our day" go-getter attitude. And I felt guilty about my bad mood. And suddenly very tired.
I eventually gave up trying to attach the annoying aluminum connector thingy to the dryer and decided to go ahead and sit down with Nathan and eat dinner.
When I sat down to eat with him, he gave me the sweetest smile and said the following without stopping for a breath... "Mommy, how was your day at work? I love you. When I get bigger I'm going to marry you. Look Mommy I can move my brownies (eyebrows) up and down now" and he continued showering me with the sweetest things a little 3 year old boy could say to his mommy.
Ahhhhhh. There is was. My bright side.
Ok maybe not a bright side to this situation but a reason to make me smile. My sweet son who I love.
And I thought to myself "Don't feel guilty, we're all allowed to let a trivial situation ruin our day sometimes" Aren't we? Aren't we allowed to let a little bump in the road feel bigger than it is at the moment? Deep down- we know we're blessed beyond anything we could ever imagine. Food. Shelter. Family. Children. Jobs. I'm beyond blessed. And I know that. And I KNEW that when I was in a bad mood.
But sometimes knowing it and feeling it are two different things.
I'm thankful for my oldest son who knows when I need a smile and tries to cheer me up. And I'm thankful for my youngest son who's cute little tushy is responsible for pooping and peeing in the cloth diapers that contaminated my floor.
They are my bright side.
Always.
It was a perfect day at work and although it took me twice as long to get home due to traffic I was in a pretty chipper mood.
When I got home I asked Marcus to give Nathan a bath so I could do some quick housework. Number one on the agenda was to wash the cloth diapers so I put them in the washer, hit the rinse cycle, and turned my attention to another chore.
My goal was to do housework for about 45 mins, warm up left over pot roast, eat dinner together, and sit on the couch to watch a movie.
It was turning out to be a good evening and I was hoping to be in bed by 11:00pm.
The washer? Had other plans.
A minute after I left the kitchen I hear Marcus yell for me. Ough oh. What? I walk into the kitchen and find water evvvvverywhere. I had just left that room a minute ago and everything was fine!
The drain from the washer decided to slip out- leaving an inch of water in the laundry room and kitchen.
But not just water. Poopy Pee Water! I was rinsing Luke's cloth diapers and THAT's what drained.
Immediately I felt all the energy drain from my body.
I would have to pull the washer and dryer out to clean underneath them. The towels that would soak up the water would need to be washed. And of course I would need to mop to disinfect the floor now (and my steam mop is clogged right now...) And this was right when I was on the brink of "me" time. You know what I mean? That little window of time at the end of the day to spend with your family? The time that I look forward to alllllll day. The time where I get to hold my new little baby who I haven't seen since 2am the night before.
:::sigh::: Well at least the bright side was....
wait....
where was the bright side?
I'm one of those annoying people that can always see the good in things. I think there is a purpose for everything and even when things go wrong I believe they happen for a reason.
So where was the bright side to this scenario and why couldn't I find it?
As I bent down behind the washer and cleaned the floor. As I got frustrated trying to reattach the aluminum dryer connector thingy. As I yelled (ok, told loudly?) to Nathan not to come into the kitchen since the floor was covering in poopypeewater. I kept searching for the glimmer of the bright side for all this while feeling my mood go from cheerful to sour.
What was wrong with me? Things like this usually don't ruin my day.
Was it due to the lack of sleep from the 2am feedings?
Maybe it was because last week Nathan scooped peewater out of the toilet and made puddles in his bedroom with it? (which led to me researching and buying a hoover steam vac in under 5 mins)
Or because the next day he decided to pee in the plastic drawer of his play kitchen?
Or because he CANNOT aim correctly so I'm left with a bathroom floor that needs cleaning attention daily? (what's with boys and pee? I'm so over cleaning up bodily fluids!)
I KNEW something like this shouldn't ruin my day but somehow I let it. I let it get me down. I KNEW it was no big deal. I KNEW there are a billion bigger issues in the galaxy besides my poopypeewater kitchen floor. Yet I still couldn't muster that "ok let's just clean it up and continue with our day" go-getter attitude. And I felt guilty about my bad mood. And suddenly very tired.
I eventually gave up trying to attach the annoying aluminum connector thingy to the dryer and decided to go ahead and sit down with Nathan and eat dinner.
When I sat down to eat with him, he gave me the sweetest smile and said the following without stopping for a breath... "Mommy, how was your day at work? I love you. When I get bigger I'm going to marry you. Look Mommy I can move my brownies (eyebrows) up and down now" and he continued showering me with the sweetest things a little 3 year old boy could say to his mommy.
Ahhhhhh. There is was. My bright side.
Ok maybe not a bright side to this situation but a reason to make me smile. My sweet son who I love.
And I thought to myself "Don't feel guilty, we're all allowed to let a trivial situation ruin our day sometimes" Aren't we? Aren't we allowed to let a little bump in the road feel bigger than it is at the moment? Deep down- we know we're blessed beyond anything we could ever imagine. Food. Shelter. Family. Children. Jobs. I'm beyond blessed. And I know that. And I KNEW that when I was in a bad mood.
But sometimes knowing it and feeling it are two different things.
I'm thankful for my oldest son who knows when I need a smile and tries to cheer me up. And I'm thankful for my youngest son who's cute little tushy is responsible for pooping and peeing in the cloth diapers that contaminated my floor.
They are my bright side.
Always.
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