Pages

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

If you give a girl 20 minutes....

It started with a bath. It began with an idea to just take care of my hygiene and exhaustion. A bath. Two birds. One stone.

Then the stress began to surface. The anxiety of what to do in the bath. Oh my gosh, ya'll. I had 20 entirely uninterrupted minutes in a woman's sanctuary -closely rivaling a Target trip with a starbucks in hand-and I was experiencing some sort of STRESS.  Women don't stress in the tub-this is where we go to de-stress-so what in everything that's holy was going through my mind? 

Do I spend the first 7 minutes shaving every region of my body because I recently read on pinterest that shaving is technically exfoliating so exfoliate your arms, your backside, your belly and your chin honey-and if anyone asks if you really have a shaved chin and belly-tell them it's technically exfoliated.   Then maybe I'll sip on a glass of wine for approximately 5 minutes while meditating on the Lord's word which will realistically be about 17 strong seconds before my brain becomes side tracked and fixated on that white towel I just bought at TJ Maxx and considered a  'splurge'  with a price of $25 for a pack of 4. But that's a steal at TJMaxx because it said 'Hilfiger' ya'll. I mean...they are going for $60 at Dillards. I'm sure of it. Then I'll decide against monogramming it like I saw at my friends house (just kidding-it was pinterest) because it's currently on the floor hiding a puddle of red crystal light that I unashamedly stepped over to get in this bathtub. And there's the middle child's toothbrush poking it's tail from behind the toilet. Behind the toilet that has a ring of....no, stop, look away now. Focus on the bath and your duty to yourself not the dooty that is touching your son's toothbrush.
 That's already 12 minutes of my solace taken away, which leaves me 8 minutes. I think? But am not really sure because I'm onto my second glass of wine and there's the math and all.

I really want to bring that ipad in here and finish that Netflix show that I've been meaning to 'binge' on like I hear everyone is doing these days but for some reason I can't even find the time to start a new bad habit. This morning I heard the radio DJ talking about how his wife and he have been 'binge watching' House of Cards. I thought to myself-I'd like to try this. But I can't. Of course the ipad is dead and the outlets in my bathroom are so loose that a plug in won't even stay in. There are so many jokes I could make here that it's ridiculously too easy (no pun intended).

So then there's the option of washing the hair.  The nest. The over-looked fourth child.
I could drain the tub now, shave at least one leg, maybe a second half if I move quickly, while the bath drains. The risk of cutting my legs while moving at stealth speed is high so I forgetaboutit. I could begin to get my hair wet but need to calculate the 4 days of dry shampoo I have in it and can easily add 3 minutes to just that. The shampoo and rinse will take 6 minutes. I can wash my face and exfoliate it while the conditioner sits. The full rinse and second 'security' rinse will take 6, too.  I can turn on Pandora to make the whole experience a little less chore like and more party up in here but there's the whole plug in problem and changing the station with wet fingers never has made me more frustrated in my life.

Ok, so with all my calculations I'm up to fourty thousand minutes of things I need to accomplish in the bathtub and am still just sitting here with wine in hand and bathtub ambitions.  Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.



Tuesday, August 26, 2014

8 things I wish I knew when I was 16

To Beth when she was 16, living life large and in charge:


1. Be Grateful
Gratitude isn't a phrase.  A 'thank you' makes not a gracious heart. Gratitude isn't even a thank you card, a hug or a 'return the favor' gesture.  Gratitude comes from within your heart. It is a powerful characteristic trait to have so if you don't have it, get you some. You unfortunately won't be going to the Congo, Haiti or Malawi anytime soon, so you'll never be nose to nose with real life poverty. I want you to get involved with, at the very least, one organization that gives back to the community, fights poverty, gives the homeless a place of rest, eliminates illiteracy, or works with young women who are scared, abused or scared and pregnant. Sadly but truthfully, the most powerful and effective resource for teens to feel the weight of what grief and poverty look like is to put them in the middle of it. A heart of gratitude will be birthed out of the guilty conscience IF you foster it appropriately.  A guilty conscience can be remedied quickly with a turn of the cheek. Gratitude is fostered from the moments when we decide that gratitude isn't a gesture but rather an exasperated decision to live life with a selfless approach to EVERYTHING. Everything. Take heart, dear Beth, because you will be challenged with 1000's of more opportunities to show your heart of gratitude over the next 15 years.



2. Home is where you should be
Go home and just be with your family. You're not going to miss anything driving around in your little jeep except for the opportunity to get to know the few people who will walk through the rest of your life with you. Invest in the peeps who are investing in you. They are the ones who will not just give you your next stepping stone in life....they are the ones who will help you build it. Your family will guide you with unspoken wisdom, provide you with life principles, rejoice in your joy, teach you an underestimated trait of humor and love you through your most unworthy lovable days. And there will be an overflow of unworthy loving days in your near future. And then there is your brother.  He is a foreshadowing of the patience virtue you have yet to even tap into when you have 3 little boys. Yup, that's right...you will have 3 little boys who talk and act just like that smelly brother in the bedroom next to you. They will arm fart, leg fart and real fart at you till you think you've been cursed. The relationship you cultivate with him over the next couple years will be a transition into your relationship with your boys. He will not only turn out to be a phenomenal brother but all 3 of your sons turn out to see him as the coolest human being in their world. Their hero....their farting hero.
Hug your mom and dad. Talk to them like they are people who have stories, scars and victories.  You will turn out to be 59% your mother and 41% your father so take the time now to develop a love and respect for them regardless of how much they make you cringe.  In 20 years, it'll be easier to love and respect yourself because of this. It'll not only be easier, it'll all make sense. Your character when you're 30 isn't developed through only YOU experiences, it's watching your mom and dad and taking their mistakes and triumphs and applying them to your life, too. They will teach you so much about who you want to be and who you don't.


4. Quit sucking at math
 Go to school. Go to school. Go to school.  GO. TO. SCHOOL.  Geez, girl. Quit skipping school and get your butt in that car and GO.  This is one topic that you and I just don't see eye to eye.  Go to class and brush up on your arithmetic. All those clubs offered at school?  Join them!  Join ALL of them. But if you can't do that, be awesome in at least one of them.  Because of you, we squirm in all kinds of awkwardness when our 8 year old son asks for help on a 2nd grade math problem.  Because of you, we created bad school habits early and still haven't received that college degree I've been missing so much. Because of you and your bad decisions, we struggle with confidence and identity issues.
Respect yourself so much now that it reflects your investment in your future self. 
 You will thank yourself in 14 years. I promise.

5. You can't change him
 At least not yet. Not when your still only 16.  You are still so impressionable yourself and not grounded in your convictions enough to change a person of moral destitute or poor choices.  The chances are high that you will be the one who will be changed, persuaded, convinced and shown the path of destruction.
Don't date or develop friendships that have to be justified. (at least not yet...) 
"PROJECT: Change a Person" isn't a job you need to accept.
You have the rest of your life to do that once you've developed life experiences, integrity and a faithful foundation to use as your compass. I don't want to paint a picture that your friendship and boyfriend choices at 16 are still negatively impacting you by the time you are 30, however, I must point out that for the next 12 years you work very hard to overcome, overcompensate and simply come to a place of self forgiveness for some extremely shaming and at times, fateful decisions.  repeat step 2. Invest in those who are investing in you.  Completing this challenge will eliminate 95% of your so called 'friends'.

6.  Be good at something to be proud of
       Have a goal, a hobby or a job.  Do something where you can see a productive return in it.  A goal that you get closer to every day, week and year. The goal will change. Often. That's ok.  A hobby that you get better at.  Or a job where you're learning what society expects from you, the rules of employment and what a paycheck is. Work TOWARD something. Not AT something.  Keep your hands, your brain and your energy engaged in something that is worthy of you.  You have something to offer to the world and to specific people.  God is allowing tragedies and victories to unfold in your life because he says that we can turn any testimony into a story of his redeeming love and use it to give him glory.  I am a walking testimony of this at 30. But it's something I continue to work at.
     
   
7. Shenanigans & all that bad stuff
    Well, if I can take any positive away from your shenanigans between 15 and 18, it's that you created an extremely aware & joyful woman. Two adjectives that are probably rarely piggybacked off each other to describe a mother to three sons in the 21st century, but here we are, continuing to defy great obstacles and odds.  Whether my testimony turns one lost soul to follow Christ or not,  I could never humbly say that my journey was worth the end result.  I wouldn't wish for any young teenage girl to go through the journey that I did.  I wouldn't wish it on anyone.  My 30 year old heart breaks for the 16 year old girl that lost so much innocence at such a young age. I can't seem to ever fully recover from that season of my life.   As many look back on their high school years as momentous, learning curves, random party ventures and forever friendships, I however look back at mine with a heavy heart of regret, shame, heartbreak, addictions and a lose of innocence. I gained more enemies that friends, lied more than I was honest, frowned more than I smiled and lived my way rather than HIS way. Joy. Somewhere along the way, you create a joyful heart and I'm grateful to you for that.


8. ....and give me Jesus
    The only confident promise I can make you in everything else is that the one person who won't ever let you down is Jesus. When 1 -7 fail you or you fall short, which you will, you can trust that Jesus won't. Put your faith in him now and in between all the failed relationships, strained relationships and misguided navigation's in your teens you'll discover unspeakable peace about the direction your going in even when it makes no sense to you in the moment.  God's plan for your life may not look fun or even manageable at times but know that he'll provide you with everything you need to 'not make sense of it' along the way. He is sovereign over your life which means he is with you today at the same time he is with me right now. Jesus is just as present in your life today as he was yesterday and as he will be tomorrow. The question is, how much will you allow Satan to seep into your days?  Allow God to be so big in your life that there isn't any room for anything else to fit in.  God IS that big.


And always, always remember....

       Be yourself, everyone else is already taken
~Oscar Wilde




Thursday, May 22, 2014

We Aren't a Hiccup


Yesterday,

For the first time

(In My LIFE)

I weed-eatted.

I weeded?

I used a weed-eater.


 Using  the word, 'weed-eating' in past tense is so unnatural and bizarre. I went over to my neighbors house tonight and was so excited to talk about my weed-eating story but then when it finally came out of my mouth, it sounded so wrong and discombobulated like this....

"Oh my gosh, girl. I weed-ered for the first time yesterday and it......."

She looked at me strangely and then did the head cock. The head cock.
The nice, non-verbal way of saying.... "WHAT did you just say?"

I back tracked and very slowly enunciated, "wee - de - tid"

Not sure she was understanding what I was saying so I did what I do best...

I re-enacted the scene like it was my turn on pictionary.

With hands clasped together, I moved my arms back and forth while making the sound, "vummmmm..vummmm...vummmm..."

Weeds.           I killed weeds today.      Chopped 'em up and watched them fly in tiny, mangled pieces all over the yard covering my shoes, the bushes, EVERYTHING.  Something about the destroying, the control and the immediate results I saw got my heart racing and my legs excited.  I began a fast-paced walk (so, the neighbors may argue that it was a jog, but whatever) around the house chopping and grinding anything green that looked like it didn't belong.

And when my boys came out on the front porch, cupped their hands over their mouths to yell something at me, (maybe something like, can we eat already?...when will you be done?....Cody has just eaten poison and is convulsing on the floor...I just vroomed up the motor a little louder and acted like I couldn't hear.  Threw my hand up to my ear, burrowed my brows like I was equally frustrated...the proverbial answer that I just couldn't hear you and I was sorry.)
Unfortunately for me but  fortunately for my neighbors and kids, the darned thing wussed out on me and the string went flying in the same direction as a weed did.

My fun ended and I sadly had to put away the weed-eating thing-a-ma-jig. I hung it back up in the garage right next to my adrenaline rush.

With a note that said.

" Babe...I know you told me not to get this out and bother, but....

WHY WOULD YOU KEEP THIS AMAZING THING  FROM ME FOR SO LONG?"

                        -your truly,
                          the wife that broke your weed eater.





My husband, aka J, is a man on the road. A business owner. Gone more than he's home. A popular icon on my phone and a voice that calls to say, "hello" "goodnight" and "I miss you guys so much, now be good for mommy and go to bed already"   His time at home lately is about equivalent to what my razor sees my legs. And by that, I mean, I don't shave anymore. Like hardly ever. Maybe I don't shave my legs anymore but according to my boys, I've learned some pretty awesome things.

I've learned how to do the yard work, how to throw a baseball, what channel ESPN is on, how to arm fart, how to leg fart, how to tackle, how to play sock baseball in the house, what a 'dutch-oven' really means and how to play legitimate hide and go seek in the pitch black.


 And by God's blessings in my feeble and imperfect heart, he has truly and intentionally made a place for me to not only feel comfortable but proud of the simple, testosterone-filled and 'fly by the seat of our pants' lifestyle we've created.


I now understand:

what sacrifice means.
what little significance objects mean.
that love happens in a messy home. 
a smile can do so much. 
a kiss on a boo-boo is better than a band-aid, even on the bum bum
a pb&j can remedy any dinner disaster
backyards shouldn't be underestimated
neither should sunny days
that parks are meant to be visited 
and creeks are meant to be explored
that baths can be a sibling event 
that clothes don't have to have labels
or even be on the body
that friends are made on the basis of their hearts
and not the house
 or car they have
that a picture doesn't always have to be shared on facebook or Instagram
and happiness is fleeting 
but joy is an identity
and a bad day with these 3 boys is still better than a good day without them





I have quit thinking about what it would have looked like to have graduated college. Went on to have an admiral career in the field of journalism. Waited till I was married to get pregnant, waited till I was 30 to have a baby (instead of 21) and had checked off society's checklist of the numerical order of, The Right Way To Grow Up.

Finally.
At 30 and with three kids, I get it. That God makes beautiful out of the dark. He'll shape your unfortunate hiccups into something more glorious and beautiful than what you could have ever dreamt up. He did with me. Despite the detours I took in life, for over 10 years, he still paved a new path for me that always. Always. Lead back to him.

Tomorrow I'll wash two loads of laundry, clean the kitchen two..maybe three times. Take the kids to school and pick them up. Go to the baseball fields and probably endure another loss by Brady's unfortunate baseball team. Grab a sno-cone on the way home as a distraction from the loss.
Then we'll snuggle in my bed. Make raunchy knock knock jokes and someone will end up getting hurt. or naked. But probably both b/c that's what they do. I'll put them in bed. Kiss their faces. Say our prayers and ask God for another day and chance to do it all over again.


And through the ten years of a semi-identity crisis, wondering what I could have been had I not done this and that. Looking for happiness in small careers and day cares.

I  know I have become exactly who God created me to be. A mom.

That stays home. And mows and weed-eats. That plays wiffle ball at sunset.That plays before she cleans. That loves big and forgives quickly. That lets her boys walk barefooted down the street. Allows peeing in the front yard. Has dance parties on Fridays. Allows slumber parties in her bed some every night dad is away. Gets angry on the way to church on Sundays. Scares them at night even though she knows they will sneak in bed with her and daddy on the weekends. And lets them watch Goonies even though they say 3 bad words but doesn't care bc deep down she wants them to refer to us all as The Goonies one day. Wouldn't that be kind of neat?  (i'm picturing wedding invites going out and it says something like, THE GOONIES cordially invite you to...blah, blah, blah...)

And that's me. No P.H.D. behind my name. Don't even own a degree but ironically still have a heaping student loan to pay on every month. I don't have a business card to give you and if you leave a voice mail you can hear my kids fighting in the background.

We should all be so proud of how magnificent God made us in the midst of the circumstances that we sometimes say,

 were "hiccups".

I'm so glad.
Thankful.
In awe, that God made me Brady.        Cody.            Beckham's mommy.
I'm exactly where I should be. At exactly the right time. With the most significant little human beings. A mommy.

The Goonies


























Sunday, May 11, 2014

Living Soul Pretty



  You may be asking, why the change?  Will there be a content shift? What's Soul Pretty? So here it is.  An interview by... YOURS TRULY and answered by...YOURS TRULY.  I would have the boys interview me but they suddenly seem very uninterested to talk to me, about me. humph.


Why did you change your blog name from "Something to tell about" to "Soul Pretty"?
 
First, my original blog title, "Something to tell about" had zero significance.  like, zero.  I was suddenly inspired one day to blog, googled the steps to make it happen and when the step to: find a domain name came, i drew a blank. And as original and stale as this is about to sound, it's the truth.  Bonnie Rait's song, "Lets give them something to talk about"  was playing on the radio. Enough said, right? (Defensive Beth wants you to know that she was 8 months pregnant the day that this happened and any creative juice that she naturally had and would pull out from thin air at this point was now stuck in her diaphragm behind Baby #3's big head or in the toilet where she visited Eight to Ten thousand times a day now because her bladder liked to cry wolf on her and then laugh and say something like, "GOTCHA" when she finally set down to go. So yes, call me ordinary but that's probably where I left my creative juices that particular day.)

However, and how typical in the blogger world, "something to talk about.com" was currently taken. A handful of suggestions popped up and there it was, the second to the best, "Something to tell about".
Voila. click, check, paid, done.  somethingtotellabout.com or as I like to call it... The second to the best choice that google ultimately influenced me to pick on a day where I'd probably had even chosen: shesdrawingablank.com, had it been a suggestion for me.

Aaannnnddd, we're moving on....

Soul Pretty.

Doesn't that bring a glow to your face? Then moves to back of your throat, tingles your fingers and settles in right behind your heart?  When you say it out loud, do the corners of your mouth turn up just a little bit like it does mine?  Does your voice change the way it does when you say precious, similar words like; swaddle. butterfly. peek-a-boo. 

Soul Pretty.

When I first had the 'epiphany' to write Soul Pretty, I had been daydreaming about what a culture shift in women/young girls would look like in America and especially Northwest Arkansas. I am currently reading and re-reading and reading again and again a book called Unfinished by Richard Stearns.  This man understands
A. his calling in life
 B. who Christ is, was and will forever be
C. that the most abundantly joyful people that he's ever met in his life had nothing. NOTHING. Nothing as in, material items, modern conveniences, instant 'get me this now', 'get me here now' technology.
He goes on to tell about this woman in Haiti that survived the 2010 earthquake. Everything she ever had was destroyed , including an arm and a leg.  She now lives in a tiny 8x6ft. tent with her 2 kids. But everyday, she worshiped our great Lord,  and rejoiced in his favor and all his glories. Richard Stearns said that she was the living breathing example of what JOY looks like.  If I had one super human power what would it be?  Not to fly, or be invisible, to be strong or to breathe under water. No. My super human power would be to shift our culture's insanely obsessive desire to be SO PRETTY, to finding our joy in living SOUL PRETTY.  And I kept thinking more and more about this idea.  Such a small idea that's already been handed down generation to generation from grandmothers to mothers to daughters. "beauty is what's on the inside." You see, it is the small ideas that grow legs, get in your head and take residency in your heart, that keep you up at night tossing around that possibility of "what if". It's the small idea that you begin to realize is God's big idea for you. I prayed for two things over the past four weeks.

1. God, please make this idea that I, you or we have and manifest it into something.  Lord, I don't know what that something looks like but I give it to you and I trust that you have my answer.

or

2. God, please make this 'epiphany' disappear. It's annoying, I can't shake it and it's beginning to affect all I do because I am obsessing over this small idea.

 I see it on facebook, everyone is snapping selfies. I see it on t.v., hear it on the radio and am catching glimpses at my children's elementary school.  I see it on Instagram as I scroll past two friends.
 Friend 1 is a fashion blogger. Has a HUGE following and posts daily...2 to 3 to 4 times a day with pics of...get this...herself. In her latest Michael Kohrs, designer bag, necklace, shoes, you name it. Nearly 20 likes in 1 min. 200 likes in 3 minutes and over 1500 by the end of the day.
Friend 2 is a personal friend from church. Lovely, lovely woman with a heart for Christ.  Two biological kids and currently fostering two kids. Posts a pic of a craft that she made with her little ones of a prayer pot and is teaching them the importance of prayers. Diligent. Consistent. Living out what the body of Christ is called to do. She gets 4 likes. 4.

I don't judge friend one. I promise, I don't. Because her walk is not mine and like pinterest  says...
"not everyone will understand your journey.... that's ok because it's not their journey to understand."
 I also believe in promoting what you love instead of bashing what you hate.
I've witnessed too many Christ followers who make it loud and clear what they stand against and you never get a feeling about what they are for. I am promoting the desire I have for a beautiful soul, let me make that clear. I'm not bashing women who like fashion, makeup, wear fashion, follow fashion bloggers, buy nice shoes, shop at the mall and on and on. That's not what I'm about. I myself have been known to wear a pretty trendy outfit now and then. As a matter of fact, I have a girlfriend who owns a boutique with a knack for fashion and business and she is sharing her love for Christ everyday and proving that the two can live in harmony. She's a light in an industry where we may not see Christ's image that often.  There's no question in my mind she is exactly where God's lead her to be so that she can further the kingdom while utilizing her talents.
 I'm only following what God's put on my heart and that's to promote the beauty that all of our souls are capable of. To stand up for what I believe we should be headed for instead of getting caught up in culture's idea that being pretty is the way to go.
  And I'm not giving friend 2 a martyr status either. Only God knows their hearts. It's a dangerous thing to judge someone's heart and I've learned a lesson that's a no no.
 But this is just a glimpse of what society is feeding their souls. It's just an example of what we already knew...that we crave to be SO PRETTY every single day, a non-stop search to the answer that has no conclusion, it's a craving we can't, we won't ever satisfy because we always are reminded that we need more in our life.


At small group the other night we were talking about Hope and the power it brings us if we can learn to believe it. Like, really BELIEVE in hope and not just think about it, toss it around in our heads from time to time then discard it until the next time we study the topic. No. We are getting it deep into our bones, praying for it to become part of our DNA,a part of us like our blood type. So deep that the next time my nurse asks what's my blood type, I will answer "B positive with some hope thrown in there...."
Anyways, the conversation evolved and took a sharp right turn to how "blessed" Americans are and yet we still have a side of 'spoiled' with a large portion of 'ungrateful' for dessert.  Whhhaaaat????

It sounds like the stupidest most ignorant thing in the world to me.

First, we are "blessed" for all the things we have but our conclusion is that we are still arrogant, ungrateful and glutinous jerks?

Excuse me while I check the bible but I've yet to read about the verse that said how God will bless us with things of this world.  Philippians 4:19 says quite the opposite, "And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus."  

The word 'supply' meaning 'blessed' and the word 'need' meaning 'not what you think you need but what he KNOWS you need.' 

And because the bible is no contradiction, EVER. Christ is saying that he blesses us only with what he knows we need.

So, really....is the joke on us? The nation with an overabundance of 'things' feeling sorry for the poverty stricken, third world country because they have LESS than us?  Have these people found the recipe for JOY in the midst of (what AMERICANS call, NOTHING) but they so triumphantly say is EVERYTHING?   If we stepped inside their world would it be easier, more accessible to find Christ because of the fewer distractions they have?  You see my point is exactly and so simply this...our great nation has found too many distractions with worldly things that our focus on Christ is diluted and yet we call ourselves 'blessed'. 


Did I answer the question of what this blog is going to be about?  Naahhhh....probably not. This blog will evolve so many times between my love for Christ to just being a suburban mommy to three mischevious and lovable little boys and never getting either right.  But I love being both. And they all love me despite my shortcomings. Make tomorrow count. Before you go to bed at night, ask yourself how you fared in making yourself soul pretty. A kind gesture?  Did you pay it forward?  Did you have a servants heart toward someone who may have not deserved it? Did you spend time with God just praising him for having protection over your life? What are some ways you could become soul pretty?  Share with me, maybe we could change the face of our nation...who knows...it starts with a small idea and grows legs...










Friday, December 13, 2013

My Dirty Thirty and other Suprises

Last week I turned 30. My 'surprise' birthday party that my husband had planned had to be canceled because of the unusual snow storm that Arkansas never sees. But of course.
 The one year my husband planned something other than a run to the general store to get me bubble bath and a bottle of wine was the year Northwest Arkansas weather dumped 10 inches of snow and sheets of ice on us. Lucky me, my mom surprised me and the boys by showing up before this storm hit. Lucky her, she was snowed in with her favorite people for 5 loooong days.  She got to see first hand how out of control my house can get in 6 minutes of the very first morning of her very first day here. Here's a quick synopsis of what I like to call,
 "The Brooks Homey Home Shenanigans during the Snowpocalypse of 2013 that ruined my 30th birthday"  (long title, eh?)


Morning #1 before 9 a.m. :  Cody was dared to stick his tongue to the light pole by the street and just like the movie, it was officially stuck. Stuck. STUCK. I yelled at Jay to do something, Jay yelled at me to quit yelling so he could think, my mom (the nurse. so anything out of her mouth is legitimate in my eyes) was yelling that she's seen cases like this and the top layer of his tongue will come right off if he yanks it, my brothers girlfriend is waking from her slumber on the mattress in the living room floor and my brother knows better than to give his two cents but comforts his girl friend assuring her that 'their kids will not be this wild'.  While all this chaos is happening inside the house, guess who's outside with Boy and tongue stuck to the light pole?????  
NO ONE!  
By the time we get a bowl of hot water and quit yelling at each other, there is a car that has stopped and a panic stricken woman is trying to comfort Cody. My mom waves at her from the house and tells her, "he's with us!  help is on the way!"  
Not convinced, the worried lady gets back into the car, (probably snapping a photo of this pathetic but laughable scene and it's floating around on facebook, I'm sure)  
My mom then yells at Cody that his daddy is on his way to help him and he darts his eyes at her and muttered something to the effect of OK.
 (just hold your tongue while saying ok and that's what he said)

Day #1 around 6 p.m. :    We have lit the fireplace and closed the glass door that traps in all the heat so the temperature will get high enough for the fans to kick on, thus blowing out heat from the vents.  This has been on all day long and the glass is piping hot I'm sure. Beckham has been running around all day without a diaper on bc when is a better time to potty train than on a snow day? And like I mentioned in my earlier post, there is a fluffly mattress pushed right up to the edge of the step up to the fireplace. Becks thought it'd be fun to jump off the step-up onto the mattress which was obvious to him that we put it there just for him to jump on!  Imagine what happens when a little boy, bare bottomed, bends down right in front of the (piping hot) glass to leap off?  You guessed it. Skin was immediately burned off and stuck to the glass. We are still dealing with at least 2nd degree burns on his bum bum. 

Day #2 aka MY 30th Birthday :  I thought I'd wake up and feel 'dirty' because this is afterall, the legendary DIRTY THIRTY that everyone refers to.  It wasn't me who was left feeling dirty that day, it was my mom and Beckham.  The same {dang} mattress that I keep referring to is STILL on the living room floor but moved to the middle of the floor instead of up against the fireplace. I was outside, Jay was outside, the older two boys were off somewhere and I hear my mom screech and yelling, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!  STOP!!!!!!!!!!!  YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beck-still potty training- had pooped (as in mounds and mounds) on the mattress then gotten his tractor and was  making 'mud trails' through it. All. Over. It. Back and Forth. Forth and Back. 

Jay walked in and without hesitating grabbed that 'muddy' tractor and flung it out the front door and who knows where it landed. I assume we will find it in the spring and we will see Beck playing with it on the dinner table before it occurs to us what happened to it that Dirty Day in December. 

*If your a family friend of ours and we invite you over for dinner, keep an eye out for this little yellow tractor with 'muddy' tires. Just politely excuse yourself from the dinner table and {our lives} and we'll most likely understand. 

Same day, just a few hours later: Mom and I had to get the heck out of dodge and risk our lives to go to the gym. So we did and we still live to tell the stories...
After we got home, we came in, mom going straight up to the shower and I fiddled in the kitchen. 20 minutes later, I went into the office where Jay was working and struck up a nice little convo with him. While talking to him (at always the most inconvenient times, jay likes to say..) I like to stare out our big window over the desk that looks into our front yard and exciting road.  My one way conversation was interrupted by the sight of my car. In the MIDDLE of the ROAD!  
My car had rolled down our slippery and icy driveway right into the middle of the road and luckily stopped. Jay told me I should have put on the emergency brake to prevent this from happening. Because brakes work on the ice?  

That evening, my sweet mother in law risked her life and came over to watch the kids while my mom, Jay and I went to the movies. After the movies, Jay dropped my mom and I off at the front door of Wal-Mart and told me to go pick myself out a nice birthday cake. How lovely. I picked out a brown Reeces peanut butter pie cake thingy because it seemed appropriate for the day.  

Day #3:  I can't remember too much from the third day. I think we all avoided each other in hopes that any drama was diverted.  My brother and his girlfriend came back over later that evening for dinner.  Dinner was going off without any hitches at the dinner table and the kids were behaving like well-behaved children.  My brother's g/f was talking about her brother being stationed in Boston.  Brady found that relevant to his life as an 8 year old and struck up a very mature and confident conversation with her. 

Brady: Have you ever been there?
G/F:  No, no I haven't.
Brady:  Well, have you ever heard of the...um...the Astrofuckinadors? They always talk about them being in Boston, and when I play my game, ACE COMBAT.... ....   what?  {Brady looks up from his food and finally sees that the rest of the table has their mouths dropped into their plates.}
And because we can't stand it a second longer, we all start hysterically laughing. I mean, wouldn't you?  

We never got to the bottom of this and the verdict is still out on who these "Astro-people" are. But if we are ever in Boston, we will be sure to research and locate this group and thank them for allowing our funny bones to be tickled on that Sunday night during the Snowpocalypse of 2013. 

And somewhere in the middle of these blurred days, these few happenings happened.....

  • we went sledding and Jay and I rode on a sled together. we hit a ramp and flew up   
 ^    this high in the air!  ...but after interviewing the bystanders, we apparently only went about    
 ^                                                                                                                                        ^   
 ^                                                                                                                                        ^   this high...
 ^
 ^ 
 ^  
 ^


  • I told Brady to shower one night and after still not hearing running water for 20 minutes I opened the door to find him on the floor and scrambling to cover up himself with towels and other clothes Never being embarrassed of his naked little self, I was shocked to see him cover himself so quickly. "GET OUT MOM!!! You can't be in here!"  
           "Why?" i asked?

           "Because I 'm going through PUBERTY!"  

            As if puberty was happening right before his eyes and the timer would 'ding' and he'd be all done!              
Oh, how i wish puberty were like a hair coloring process. Apply, wait 20 minutes, rinse and              done!  you are now a man. ta-da. 

             

My 30th birthday wasn't how I'd imagined it.  I imagined a pretty red dress, shaved legs, washed hair and friends throwing confetti at me while serenading me to Happy Birthday. Very Nicholas Sparks-esque is how I imagined it in my {sometimes} vain head of mine.  The element of 'surprise' has reinvented itself over and over again in my life. These little 'surprises' in my life have evolved into little blessings and fun little stories that if I can find the time and make myself, I get to share with you guys. And only a few things can be better than pretty dresses, confetti and curled hair and I happened to find it during the Snowpocalypse of 2013.


          








Tuesday, October 15, 2013

I've earned a BM this weekend


If you seriously thought I meant Bowel Movement, well you are just gross!  I'm very regular thank you very much...
BM stands for Bloody Mary!  Keep reading to understand why I deserve one....


We are currently navigating through some unchartered waters in our home. We are new business owners, first time business owners, to be exact and everything was new and exciting when the idea was only an idea but now it's reality and admittingly a little scary.  And we have no one in HR to call for advice or guidance. I'd give up two peaceful nights of sleep for even 20 minutes of holding time if someone would just explain to us what the heck to do next about our insurance fiasco/options. I'd give up wine for a week to even play language Ping-Pong of "what" and "say that again" with an outsourced rep from across the world.

ehhhh....change of heart....maybe not.
 I'd make JAY give up a weeks worth of wine so I could drink mine only to tolerate the rep I couldn't understand.

We'll be fine though.  After these couple of years, I'll be writing articles on E-HOW of

"Insurance 101 for Dummies and/or SAHM's of a business owner"

or

"Teaching your hubby how to use basic programs like Excel and Word and how to type with all TEN fingers and not just two b/c he grew up in a generation before there were computers; therefore, classes that taught him stuff like that"  (that one may be a little long and possible revising)

or

"Replacing ink cartridges in the printer without cursing your spouse"

or

"The Significance of Flex Foam and how it incredibly does fix everything per the infomercials promise"


that last one is a very, very personal one. The foam alone has saved our marriage.



Last night, we went to the night service at our church, then out to eat,  then to drop a present off at a friend's house.

That's out of the house at 5. Eating at 7. Friends at 8:15, home at 9.
That is 4 total hours of unregulated space not our own.
 15 furrowed brows.
 8 pinches under the clothes.
12 eye rolls.
 3 missed smacks that only caught air.
 2 promises to never go on a road trip anytime soon. (I know, right?  this is just a trip to church, much less an official ROAD TRIP)
 87 prayers to maintain our patience. and
 2 big sighs of relief (from Jay and I pulling into the driveway).

Speaking of.....when we did pull into the driveway last night, our headights caught our little ADT sign that is staked in our flower bed.  Because our boys are destructive animals, the sign now just has the letters 'AD' on it and the 'T' has been ripped off. Brady, our child who never quits talking from the time his eyes open to sometime after his eyes shut, said, "look! Our ADD sign is broke!"

Could be that we were delirious with stress, happy to be on our turf, or a combination of both but Jay and I began laughing hysterically seeing that destructed sign and imagining the possibility of an ADD sign.

Jay said, "Wouldn't it be funny if there were signs actually warning intruders that there was an ADD child inside this home and risk before entering?"

{have I mentioned Brady, our oldest son has been diagnosed with ADD + ADHD? I had no idea a child could have BOTH but here we are...living proof that it happens.}


"That would be more effective than the ADT sign!" I said.

Brady, probably not understanding that the joke was on him, belly roll laughed with us. Cody picked his nose and contemplated eating the booger. And Beckham picked out an old cheerio from his car seat and ate it.



As I had mentioned earlier, we went to the evening service b/c that's what people with kids like ours do. We procrastinate to the very last opportunity. If we were catholic, we'd be all over the midnight mass.


Our pastor was out and replacing him was the college pastor, who is new.
The service was one of spiritual awakening and reviving our hearts for Christ. It was unique in that we spent the majority of the service on our knees praying, which was refreshing and wonderful.

Anyhow...after the service and wrangling all three boys up, we were on the sidewalk in front of the church when the college pastor came walking by with his wife and two kids. We introduced ourselves, chit chatted about how much we enjoyed the service, where they relocated from, and how we need to do dinner sometime. All the while, Brady and Cody are standing behind our backs. We agree to do dinner, wave goodnight, hug, yada yada...turn around and the boys are covering their mouths snickering.
 I mean, the very definition of what a snicker is. 

to snicker: to give a smothered or half-suppressed laugh

"What?" I asked.

Brady pointed to the church window behind him, which is the vertical length of the building. Floor to ceiling, right there on the sidewalk.

They had written on the dirty dusty windows in big letters;

 
BUTTHOLE
 
 
As a parent, what's the first thing you do when your kids do something so visible like that?  You look around to see who saw! 
 
I looked behind me where the pastor and his wife were buckling their (quiet, well-mannered) kiddos in the car and saw that he had seen but then quickly looked down, acting like he didn't just see what I know he saw. Then he looks up, sees me still staring at him and I quickly look down like I didn't just catch him catching my kids writing on the church windows.
 
Overall. It made for a very awkward situation that gives me a gut feeling that we may never have that dinner after all.
 
 
 
Walking away from the 'situation' and to our car is where all the pinching under the clothes, swatting and eye rolls came in.
 
And THIS is why I'd like a bloody mary this weekend.
 
 
Lord help me.






Wednesday, October 2, 2013

This is SERIOUS!

Well. I'm exhausted.

I should be washing my hair. After all...it has been 5 days since I've washed it. FIVE. gross.

I can think of something even grosser though.  Here it is:

A two year old little boy strapped in the car seat vomiting in his lap.

Want to hear something sad?

While little boy is vomiting,  his mom only turns around from the driver seat to say things to him
like,

Awww...
It's okay honey....
there you go....
almost done....

What else can she do while in the turning lane in morning school traffic?  Get out of my line to zip over to the church parking lot? Nope.

A few encouraging words will work. Momma's not losing her spot in line!

Want to hear something frustrating?

Mom had just cleaned her car two days earlier, as in vacuumed and shampooed seats, for the first time in a year. And momma's cringing every time the little boy convulses to spew again and watch it fall down between the cracks of his {also newly cleaned out} car seat.

It's bad enough to watch your clean car become tainted but even worse is watching your little boy imprisoned in his seat with about a tenth of an inch as it is between the carseat straps and his chest to really even get out a big heave.

Five days ago I had this same virus and my range of heaving was about 2 feet. Swaying left and right all over the bathroom like I was dodging in a boxing ring.

Poor guy had about [thismuchroom] to heave. 

Ah. My clean seats.
Oh. That smell.
Eh. Dang it.
Why. Me?


And it's only 8:07.

Fantastic.



Jay started a medical scope business about 4 weeks ago and has been MIA since then. Almost literally. About 20 hours short of being literal. The boys and I have adopted "Mission: Serious" since then.

"Boys, I'M SERIOUS!"

"Hey...you think mom is serious?"

"Quit messing with Beckham, I'm so SERIOUS this time!" 

"Mom said she was Serious again. Don't throw her shoes on the roof."

"Mom, we are SERIOUSLY hungry."

"Ugh...do I SERIOUSLY have to buy more groceries?"

"Seriously, why are there 8 pair of underwear under your bed?"

"Ok, seriously....what in the world is that? And where is your brother?"


The last one is my all time most used sentence (or two). I'd bet I say this three times a day and that's taken into consideration that the boys aren't even home till 3:30.


I love my boys though. Love each of them with every fiber of my body. Love them so much that I'd be delighted to have another God-given opportunity to wake up and do it again. What a blessing these days are and I'm living in the moment, never wishing for anything to pass too quickly.

Galatians 6:9 tells us to not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Such a promising exclamation that God gives us!  I may physically wear out at the end of every day but as God is my witness, my persevering soul will never grow weary of the purpose I've been given to raise these 3 sweet and exciting boys...seriously!
















 
 















Sunday, August 18, 2013

Twas the night before school.....




T'was the night before school
and all through the house
not a boy was sleeping
i blame it on my spouse
the chicken was still cooking
"the grill took a while"
the clock read 8:08
the rules were clear
bedtime couldn't wait
momma packed their lunches
in their new fancy lunchboxes
trying to remember what pinterest told her
organic this, no preservative that, gluten free something
sugar free, no sugar, low sugar
whole wheat, no wheat, do they need wheat?
crap
what did pinterest say?
ehhhh...
PB & J will suffice
make up my lack of lunch building skills with an
AWESOME
"love napkin"
bedtime came a little too late
showering will just have to wait
prayers
kisses
talk of tomorrow
nervous chatter of new teachers
new friends
I get lost in the future
10 years from now
what if they don't want me
like they need me now?
must focus on the present
their just little boys
we are doing a good job
they are fed, loved and warm
prayers and hugs
hugs and kisses
these two sweet boys
drove me crazy on our summer break
but
now i'm wishing
i could just press pause
while their wish is to press forward
to just move on
i pray their equipped
with faith in the Lord
they use good judgment
and obey all the rules
iron clothes
backpacks ready
alarm set
summer is over
school has begun
second and first grade
they are still so young
tomorrow will be busy
for them and I both
they will be learning
i'll be napping i hope!
your summer is over
but
my vacation has just begun!
 
love,
your very proud and exhausted momma
 
 
I love you, Brady and Cody
Best of luck tomorrow! 
 
 
your 'love napkins'

i figure you'll still be teenagers sleeping together.
but shhhhh....i won't tell!

chores. helping. serving. i love that you guys work.

our last hurrah with some friends!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Monday, July 1, 2013

pics and captions...

 
 
This is after you both received awards for AWANAS. 
Cody, you would have thought you were booed off the stage with that face.
You could have at least struggled with a half-smile like Brady did....sheesh.
 






 
I would be safe to say that NO ONE in this picture is really sure about anything.
 

 
Finally....a genuine smile.

Superhero neighbors are few and far between. My wish is that these two friends will always rescue each other from the villains in life.

 
This is true superhero adoration at its finest.
 well...wouldn't you have reacted this way after seeing that framed on the wall of an Ivy League College bar? But really, it was such a cool bar with history written all over it. Literally.
 
 


My friends!  Old and new. 
 

 
And the food. the food was so GOOD!
 
 
 
Ithaca, NY was more than what I'd anticipated. Beautiful rolling hills. Beautiful gorges. Beautiful people. Made for a beautiful bride.
 
 
 
My good friend, Jessie and I after Charlene's wedding. She did it...she got MARRIED!
 
 
I love my sweet {raw and honest} friend, Charlene. You are beautiful!
 

I was slightly happy, {over-joyed} to be alone, on a trip without my kids for the first time in 8 years.

 
Great group of peeps.
 
 
 My mom's cousin (a true NYC resident) in front of that lil restaurant where Tom Hanks first saw Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail.  Best dessert.
 
 
 
 
 
 
My first night in NYC, overlooking Times Square. I stayed choked up for the majority of the day. Feel blessed to experience NYC, a remarkable city, with my mom.
 
 
Jimmy Fallon!
 
 
The Voice chair. (well, duh, your thinking.)  Sorry, I have not a good caption here)


 
My momma and I!  I got off the train and met her at 46th and we were both wearing black and white striped dresses. Made me cry even more....
 

The 9/11 memorial is such an honest, emotional experience.
 


 
The Zoltar. I wish to be BIG.

 
Couldn't thank my mom enough for the NYC experience!

 
That's fried NYC food in my belly, although it looks like baby #4.

 
Oh, yes we did!
 Last night in NYC. stayed out late. A whopping 12 a.m.
 
 
 
Goodnight, NYC...until next time!
 
 
 


Monday, May 20, 2013

Unfamiliar




I resisted the urge to sit down and blog. I really did resist until I couldn't help but follow my heart, my feet and my heart-break. And here I am writing what I feel completely unqualified to write about.

Loss.

Devestation.

Death.

Destruction.

And I feel so inadequate and small to be able to type these words but not feel the words.
To have the pain-less experience to be able to sit here and type out the letters,
D. Then E. A. Then T and H.
There is no feeling greater than to love. And I've felt that.  I can type the word LOVE.  and that feeling?   I've felt.
I know that feeling.
 I feel qualified to write about LOVE.

But not death.

Not devestation, nor loss, nor destruction.

All surface words, really, from someone so un-qualified to be writing on a subject they've never experienced.

Moore, Oklahoma residents.  You have become instantly qualified to write on such words. This very second that I'm typing these simple, meek, letters you are wading through a dark place that is beyond what you recognize. You don't have to pinch yourself to tell yourself to wake up because these feelings never were so painful in your dreams. You can feel the mud through your shoes, the blood under your fingernails, the voices. The voices you can't drown out like in your dreams. Those shrieking in the background make you aware of your pulse, your heart still beats. And you know you don't have to pinch yourself because you can't dream this.

The roads you walk down are not familiar. The road you walk down is your road to home from work  but you don't recognize it. You don't recognize the street sign in your neighbors living room, nor the stroller that dangles from the power lines. You don't recognize the feeling in your heart when you see tiny bodies taken off in stretchers. Nothing has paralayzed your heart in the way it does now.  The lump in your throat is unidentifiable when you see a mother fall over her child's body and resist reality but just wants to lie with her still child instead. And although reality is all around you, you can't help but live above the circumstance, like your floating, watching from somewhere else, all the unfamiliar sights and sounds.

And you do this for hours and hours without any improvement in the breaking of your heart. As a matter of fact, it breaks more as the day goes because you begin to see that it reaches beyond your street. People are experiencing the same heart-break one street over. Two streets over. All across town, your people are hurting in the most unfamiliar way. No single person is experiencing the exact same pain that you are at this very moment. Moore, Oklahoma is the single most sad city on planet Earth right now. And the rest of the world would absolutely agree 100%.

The world sits in front of our televisions, paralyzed by the coverage of your devestated city. And all we can do is pray that God has his healing hand over each and every one of you. And he comforts each of you in the way he knows best.
 And then a Lowes commercial comes on and breaks up the coverage, snapping us back to some kind of reality. Like feeding our kids dinner, checking facebook for news, ironing our clothes for work tomorrow. All it takes is a commercial break to disturb our 'relate-ability'. We are there in spirit but we cannot relate. Our familiar place is behind the t.v.
Your unfamiliar place is tonight.  Walking through ground zero.
 And we are on our knees praying for you. We have our babies on their knees praying for you.
For they do not know what they pray for, really. But they know there is pain.
They see it in their mama and daddy's eyes.

 But we try so hard to go there. Just like we went there on Dec. 15th to Newtown, Connecticut.

And as unqualified as the nation may be to mourn properly with you. Please allow us to pray for you.
Your city, your people, your babies and your heartbeat are in our everlasting thoughts tonight and everyday forward.


Dear Lord,

Wrap your arms around Moore, Oklahoma tonight, especially.
And although we know you won't forget about the world as a whole,
we pray that your ultimate healing will be focused entirely on this sad city,
welcome the little children into your kingdom with the sounds of harps
and angels rejoicing of their arrival.
Turn the cries of sadness for their departure from Earth and let the trumpets
be magnified upon their arrival. And let them sit by your right hand.
Begin healing the hurt. Begin answering the confused. Begin re-building
this city. In all you have done, in all you do, in all you will do, allow our nation to
draw closer to you for comfort. While we may cry out in anger and
grief, may your glory shine through this storm. And let us be there. Let us
go to unfamiliar territory with this hurting city. May the world find something
familiar in the dark. That would be you, Lord.

Amen.






Saturday, May 11, 2013

My walk of faith.

 

There is always an opportunity to learn in front of us. I don't really speak of the, "pick up a book and read" learning, rather the..."put on your student glasses and take a lesson from the book of life". I made that point in case a few months back when I posted about Tootsie, our dog and how giving her away gave Brady the opportunity to learn what "love and let go" means. If you failed to catch it, you can here....
In past cases, I wouldn't have seen anything remarkable about our goodbyes to Tootsie except a good photo op that I managed to capture of Brady and Tootsies last moment that will make for a good black and white framed photo one day. Story would have ended there and if anyone would have asked, "What lesson have you learned from having a dog and not being prepared to care for it?"
Truth be told, it probably would have been "the next time my husband brings home a 'surprise' and we,being of husband and wife, haven't discussed the 'surprise'. I just may come home one day with two 'surprises', a new bra and a few new shirts to fit over my two new 'surprises'.
Truth.
Be.
Told.
That would probably be my answer.
HOWEVERRRR......and lucky enough, I blog. And this gives me time to reflect on many a things in my life. Blogging gives me time to reflect on my responses to challenges in life, my decisions I make, the welfare of my children, my role as a woman in Christ, my role as a wife, and on and on and on...
Blogging allows me to slow down, forcing me to re-live what I'm blogging about. This in return, gives me hindsight about the event I'm blogging about which yields, lessons to be learned! I'm also able to live vicariously through my myself, through my blog. Make sense?
Well, like my answer about my "surprise"...you can say silly stuff like that on a blog.
In real life, it just doesn't go over as funny.
{An exception may be the female who, like me, still wears something that resembles a training bra. THEN we break out in hysterical laughs together.}
I can be silly in one line of my blog.
And dead serious in the next.
In real life, I'd be diagnosed with bi-polar.
In a blog...totally cool.
But seriously.....A week ago, I asked God to speak to me while I was strolling through my neighborhood with my youngest son, Beckham. I asked him to open my eyes to what he desired me to see, block out distractions, and to be in communion with him as I took this very short, half a mile stroll.
I left my driveway, and turned left. I turn left almost every time I go for a walk. Nothing new.
I've got my phone on spotify and set on the Christy Knockles radio. <----- This and the birds chirping and the sun shining and a perfect temp of 72
"Greater things are yet to come, Greater things are still to be done in this City!" -Chris Tomlin is killing it on this song...
... I'm bee-bopping down the sidewalk and look to my right and see this....
 
 
 
Look closely and you can see the house numbers.
 
2020
 
Don't think along the lines of Diane Sawyer, the tv show. Think along the lines of 20/20 Vision!
 
Before you laugh, and turn off the computer and possibly delete me as your facebook friend, just bare with me.
 
I am the FIRST person to admit that a lot of people have a knack for 'over-spiritualizing' things.
I am not dubious to the fact that this house has been here since 1982 and most likely always had the house number of 2020. I. KNOW. THIS.
 
What I do think is spiritual is the fact that I had just prayed for 'him to open my eyes to see what he desired'. So the irony is NOT that the house has the numbers 2020 on them, but that God knew my prayer before I did. God knew I'd be taking a left out of the driveway and walking past this house. God knew I'd look up and see these numbers. Therefore, because God knew all this. He put it in my heart to pray for clarity. There is no 'over-spiritualizing' the word when your intentional about seeking it out. .
 
And had I prayed for something yellow, I would have seen something yellow?  
 
I know, I get it.
 You see what you want to see. 
 But when you deliver your spirit, heart and mind to the Lord and ask him to speak to you,
 when do you truly feel safe to turn off your "earthly" switch and turn on your 'spiritual" switch?
Our 'earthly' switch makes us doubt everything and have faith in nothing. Our 'earthly' switch tells us to use more common sense and to believe in a new term we've created called, KARMA. Pshhh. There is no such thing as Karma.
 But our 'spiritual' switch allows us to live in faith. Living blindly but so boldy that we know that no matter the outcome, God will use this to his benefit. Living with our spiritual switch on as opposed to our earthly switch allows us to take our short, {at times}mundane walks but allowing God to speak to us through anything. It's not being silly or ridiculous, it's being faithful to what God can do for us.
  I am oftenly, (as in... almost constantly),  trying to figure out what is a message from him or something I've created in my head. When I want something so bad, I can see how easy it is to get lost in the code and confused on what is the message from God. Then I remember,
 
Prov 14:15 (NIV) A simple man believes anything, but a prudent man gives thought to his steps.
 
 Also, one of my most favorite verses is:
 
Proverbs 16:9  The heart of a man plans his way but the Lord establishes his steps.
 
 
.  
But being a pretty reasonable person of sound body and mind, I determined I would turn off the 'earthly' switch and tune into God's deliberate messages the remainder of my walk.
 
I turned left again making my way up to the road that ran parallel behind my house. The house on the corner of those two roads had a huge wood sign hanging over the garage....
 
 
 
 
 
  I have instagram and sometimes I like to use hashtags. Kidding. I always use hashtags...
 
Sometimes...I can't think of the right words to use under my precious kids picture so I put
 #nowords
because I honestly have NO WORDS for how cute, precious or silly they are.
 
I like to think that if God had an Instagram it would constantly be #nowords.
I mean, can you imagine being God and posting a picture of the Sun { something you created } !!!
Wouldn't you just be like, #nowords? 
 
 
 
And this ^ is one of those times.
 
Simplify your life, Beth. That's all I heard after seeing this.
Walk, walk, walk..... Thinking of ways to simplify my life already.  
 
two houses down, I see this on the front porch.
 
 
        
    
 
 
Hashtag. No words.
 
 
 
Now, at this point I stand there for what may have been 10 minutes looking around to see if anyone else was seeing what I was seeing.
You know when something incredibly cool happens and you want someone (anyone!) to be with you just so you could punch them in the arm (like Elaine on Seinfeld) and say, "Are you seeing this?!" 
I did that. Except I had no one to punch in the arm. :(
 
As a matter of fact, the boy who lives here eventually got off the bus and strolled up, waved to me and stopped.
 
"Are you here to see my mom?"  he asked.
 
I felt awful for gawking at his little sign and because he caught me so off-guard, I said, "No, I was waiting for the Schwans truck."
 
What? 
 
I know.
 Lied.
 Right in the middle of being filled with the holy spirit.
That was the ONLY thing that came to my head. Because it was the day for the Schwans man to come.
 
 
As you can tell, I was completely overwhelmed with the message to SIMPLIFY my life.  There was no detemining where or who this message came from. This was a perfect message for an imperfect me and we all know that "all good and perfect gifts are from above...." james 1:17
 
And this walk was good.
The messages were perfect.
The birds singing were enough to symbolize God's perfect creation.
But then he did something really, really fantastic and delivered his word to me in my quarter mile walk.
 
 And although God doesn't owe it to any of us to 'prove' his existence, and although it wasn't a burning bush I saw, my simple prayer I prayed before stepping out to walk allowed me to walk in faith. 
 
We are human beings whom posseses earthly, narcassistic doubts about the wonderous things God is able to do. I believe that the most important thing we, as believers, can do is not to SIMPLIFY our lives (although I know that is a necessity and I'm working on it) but it's to walk in FAITH. Always.
I can only imagine the clarity I'd have if I lived with the 'earthly' switch off and the 'spritual' switch on.
 
 
May you all take a 'walk of faith' tomorrow around your neighborhood and see what is revealed to you.
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 

About

Testing custom font