Human Nature

It seems that over the past couple of weeks or so some one in our house has been sick.  I have visited more doctors offices over the past couple of weeks than I would have ever wanted to.  Throughout the craziness I remain thankful for medicine, for caring physicians, and for our good health. We live in a society that, for the most part, tends to be nurturing.  We see some one we love in need and we want nothing more than to help them.  Humans have a need to take care of each other.  Maybe you read that last sentence and are asking why I used the term "humans" instead of "people."  Well, fellow human, I'm glad you asked.

We have been watching a show called The Neighbors.  When we started the first episode I wasn't really sure what to expect or if I would even enjoy it.  We laughed throughout the entire episode and watched a couple more after that one; enjoying each one. The story is an interesting and fun one--a group of aliens who wish to learn more about earth purchase all the homes in a small housing addition and move in.  Eventually one of the houses becomes vacant and humans move in. So, you have this entire housing addition of aliens with one human family.  The humans try to teach the aliens how to be more human-like.  There was one episode entitled, "Cold War," in which the youngest human (a 6-year-old girl) gets a cold.  The leader of the aliens wants to quarantine the child to prevent others from becoming ill, but the humans explain that this isn't how things are done on earth and that we take care of each other.  The alien leader's wife watches the human mom take care of her child and longs to take care of others.  The human child eventually sneezes on her mother which leads to the entire family becoming ill.  The alien wife sneaks in to help the humans and eventually falls ill herself.  The other aliens come to care for those who have fallen ill. This prompts the alien leader to also join in and care for those who are ill.  The show is funny but it does a great job of illustrating human behavior.

I could easily relate to this episode.  As a mother you care for your sick children.  There was one day that Kaitlyn sneezed right in my face.  Living with children is like a germ war zone.  They are little germ factories and you spend your time desperately encouraging hand washing, covering coughs and sneezes, and trying to keep them from getting sick or spreading their germs to others in the household. Sometimes we are successful; other times we fail and the virus spreads like wildfire through the house.  Humans care about each other and we most definitely care about our children.  As a mother I do not take care of my child from a distance wearing gloves and a mask, fearing that I will get sick.  That never crosses my mind.  I simply want my child to feel better.  I will use germ-x like no one's business, spray the house down with Lysol, and up my Vitamin C intake, but my goal is to make sure my child is comfortable and feels better.  Should their illness spread to me, well, then I'll deal with that if and when it happens.  That is when Jacob steps in and helps with the kids and helps take care of me, and I him. We make a great team, my family and me.  And, although we could probably learn a lot from these TV aliens and prevent sickness by quarantining those who are ill, humans just aren't created that way. We want to help.  We want to love.  We want to nurture.  While no one wishes to be ill, I believe that caring for each other is what we are meant to do.

"I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit." -- Matthew 25:36

The Story Continues (Part 2)

For 15 years I have gone to a church service here, gone to a church service there.  We'd go a few Sundays and then stop.  The people didn't talk to us or we felt uncomfortable.  We always found something to complain about, some reason NOT to go back.  I am always telling my children that your attitude is a big factor in how your day will go.  Well, when you go to church with a negative attitude, odds are you're not going to get anything out of it. We went just looking for a reason not to go back.  And, we got nothing out of it.  Every. Single. Time.

I have several friends who do not go to church.  Friends who don't even believe in God.  Or friends who do but just feel like church is filled with people who are judging them, criticizing them, people who are sticking their noses in the air because church is their social hour and you are not part of their "clique."  Having stood where they stand, I can understand that.  I have seen people who have gone out of their way to not speak to  us.  People who sat in the church pews in front of us and gossiped about people in the church.  But, over the past week, a thought came to me--church isn't about the people, church is about God.  Sure, you have people who go to church to see their friends and socialize, and that is great.  It's good to have Christian friends to encourage you, but at the end of the day, the true reason for going to church is to seek God. To praise Him and thank him for all that you have--to learn more about Him and allow your relationship with Him to grow.  I realized that instead of paying so much attention to the people in the church, I should have been paying attention to God.

God was really nowhere in my life.  I had negative thoughts about church, even about Christians.  Then, things started happening.  My best friend started attending a bible study and I noticed some changes in her.  She seemed more positive about life.  I noticed that some of her choice words were no longer in her vocabulary. I noticed that her tough edge seemed to be a little softer and she just seemed different--happier.  Then, the father of one of my closest friends passed away suddenly.  When I learned of this news, my heart sank.  I remember feeling sick.  I rescheduled Alex's therapies and planned everything out and headed to Duncan the day before the funeral so I could not only attend the funeral but the visitation with the family as well. I grew up with this man.  He would ask me, "You going to church?"  If I said, "No,"  He would say, "No? How come?"  I, like so many others, would give him excuses and with each excuse he'd say, "Aww . . ." in an annoyed tone and say, "You need to be in church."  He never made me feel like he was judging me, but he cared and he wanted me to be where I needed to be.  "How you gonna grow closer to God if you're not going to His house?"  Honestly, at the time, I didn't care.  I went to this man's funeral.  You hear people give their testimonies and say, "And then I felt God touch me."  Nope.  My testimony is, " . . . and then I felt God smack me on the back of the head."  It has been long enough.  Get it together and start paying attention!  And I did.  People got up and talked about the awesome ways this man had served God during his life. He was a man after God's own heart and he served happily and would help anyone who needed help.  He was what every Christian should strive to be.  God used him in life--and he was able to use him in death, as well.

I realized that I was going about things all wrong.  People are funny.  We don't seek God.  We don't turn to God.  We take all that we have for granted.  When things go well we don't thank God for his blessings, no, we did it all on our own.  But, when things go bad we get angry with God and blame God.  "Why did God let this happen?"  I am starting to realized the utter insanity of humanity--God gets credit for nothing, except when things go wrong.  It makes no sense and I'm just as guilty as the next person.

While sitting in that pew during this man's funeral I felt God grabbing my attention.  Something happened inside me and I felt the need to get back in church, the desire to seek God in his Word and in prayer, and the urge to serve.  I know He is doing big things in my family, in my friend's lives, in my own life and I look forward to seeing how this is all going to play out.

And our story goes on . . .

My Journey Thus Far (Spoiler Alert: There's a lot of GOD in this entry!)

I can still hear my Grandpa Jack's voice saying, "Raise him up in the way of the Lord and he will not soon depart."  He'd say it with that little smirk he had and his eyes would sparkle just a little.

It might take him (or her) more than a decade to stop and pay attention, but, I am learning that my Grandpa Jack knew what he was saying--he wasn't just spouting off crazy things.  He knew.

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When I was little we attended church every Sunday morning. After church we would have lunch with my grandparents--every Sunday.  We would then attend the Sunday evening service.  On Wednesday evenings we were in church as well.  My grandfather and my father were deacons in the church. My mom sang in the church, my father drove the church bus, my grandparents worked with the youth for a while and then, once they were older, cleaned the church.  I grew up with people who served God.  Growing up, I struggled with this.  I felt the urge, that hunger to dig into God's word and grow closer to Him. I felt a need to serve.  And serve is what I did . . . at least for a little while.  I went on mission trips and taught Sunday school.  Between the spaces in this timeline of my youth there were moments or rebellion. I reached an age where my father, who got up at an insane hour to get to work every morning, stopped attending church on Sunday and Wednesday.  If he wasn't going, then why did I have to go?  I remember my mom trying to encourage me to go, of course I felt she was judging and criticizing me.  I told her that if it wasn't important enough for dad to go, then why should I go?  So, I stopped going.  High school graduation came and went and college started. Without going into the details of this time in my life, let me just say this--I sought out the wrong people.  I clung to those who tore me down and made me feel alone--and I turned my back on God.  I had to hit rock bottom to realize that it was up to me to pick myself up, dust myself off, and make the changes needed to get my life back--otherwise, the outcome might not be a good one.  I did this.  It wasn't easy but I did it, but I still struggled--a lot.  For some reason I refused to turn to God.  I was angry.  If you mentioned church, God, or prayer it made me uncomfortable and I would try to change the subject.  I was angry at "So-called" born again Christians for saying one thing but not showing it in their daily lives.  I found fault with everything associated with church. I felt that if God could love and forgive sinners why weren't Christians more loving? Why were they not more caring?

Fast-forward to a few years ago.  Once you stop going to church the habit forms and it is very hard to get back into the habit.  We'd visit a few churches and then find a reason to stop going.  In 2004 we had Alex.  He had problems from the moment he was born and has struggled the entire 8 years of his life. I remember having moments where I was angry with God.  As Alex got older and we tried to attend church we were faced with a new problem--church kids being mean to our Alex. Why does God allow things like this to happen?  Why do these children who are supposedly being raised by Christian parents acting so un-Christlike? In 2006 we had Logan. He was a happy-go-lucky little guy and as he grew we noticed he was curious about everything. He thought about everything and wanted to know how things worked and why things were the way they were.  As he grew we began to notice that he was also very sensitive and had a big heart.  He cares about everyone and when he sees some one hurting, he hurts too.  He is my child that I can already see God working in and preparing him to do great things. About a year ago he started asking questions about church, God, and Jesus.  He has asked about baptism and the holy spirit--things that we haven't talked about.  I truly believe that Logan is seeking God and has a hunger to learn more.

This is the beginning of a new journey for us.
Part 2 to come. ;)

A Part Of You

He has this old, ratty pair of Puma sneakers that he loves.  I'm not quite sure why he loves them so much, but the boy loves them.  He asks to wear them every day.  Strings are starting to hang off, they are dingy, and worn.  Most importantly, they are loved. Loved by a 6-year-old boy who, for whatever reason, believes they are the "best shoes ever."  He wears these little red glasses that have been bent, sat on, stepped on, lost, and neglected.  The red on them is coming off and revealing a silvery metal hidden beneath the color.  The lenses are always filled with smears and some sticky substance. He has a true heart of gold--a heart that is bigger than what you or I could ever begin to imagine.  He wants everyone to be happy and he wants to help anyone he can.  Does he know he makes  his mother's heart swell with love and pride?  Does he know that I see him with a suit of armor walking around ready to help anyone who crosses his path?
A hero.

Down the hall is his brother. He is quiet.  Always quiet.  He questions everything and even when given the answer he responds with, "How do you know?"  He is curious and smart and sneaky.  Some days he seems like an 8-year-old boy; other days he seems a lot older--the product of a life filled with challenges and struggles.  He always holds his head up high, eyes narrowing in a serious glare as if to say, "Bring it on."  Life is not easy.  Childhood is not what it should be, but it's all he knows--his version of normal.  He takes it as it comes. He accepts it. Does he know his parents burst with pride and can't talk about him and all his accomplishments without smiling?
Does he know that when we see him we see him with a cape?
A hero.

A little girl sleeps soundly in her crib.  Her little curls cover her precious head like a helmet.  She is daring and bursting at the seams with happiness and emotion.  She embraces life with all her little being and appreciates the small things around her--a rainbow on the wall formed from a prism, lights above us in the ceiling, a character or design on her shirt.  "Look, Daddy," she seems to say as she points to her shirt and looks up at him with a huge smile spread across her chubby, angelic, little face.  She runs at you, giggling the entire way, and then embraces you in a rough hug, wrapping her little arms tightly around your neck.  "I love you," She seems to say.  "I love you, too, sweet baby," I whisper back to her.  She spends her time exploring, noticing everything around her, and playing peek-a-boo.  Peek-A-Boo.  So simple, yet, such an amazing game when played with a 14-month-old girl.  Does she know that she brings laughter to our house on a daily basis?  Does she know that when I look at her I see a brave girl facing everything in her path and not backing down for anything?
A hero.

Children are truly a part of you.  A physical, living, breathing part of you. I look at Alex, Logan, and Kaitlyn and I think, "They are a part of me."  Every day they make me smile.  Every day they make me laugh.  Every day that passes I am more proud of them for their accomplishments and for the amazing little people they are becoming. I look at them.  I watch them on their own. I watch them with each other.  I watch them with others.  A smile spreads across my face and I can't help but think, "My three little heroes."

Chaos: The Cookies of Life

Author Amelia Atwater-Rhodes wrote, "Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting."  

My question is who says life has to be interesting? Today has not been lacking in chaos.  So, according to the above statement, I think it's safe to say that I have had an interesting day.  Interesting isn't all it's cracked up to be.  I look out my window and I see a beautiful day--some might even venture so far as to call it a perfect day.  The sun is shining, it's not windy, it's not too hot and it's not cold. I love days like this--they make me long for Spring! There is NOTHING chaotic about today--so, what's so great about chaos, then, if boring can equal a perfect day!  Kaitlyn hasn't been napping well the past few days, I haven't felt 100%, and a few other things that have caught me off guard have happened this week.  Nothing major, just little bits of chaos. (Smile and wink!) Maybe Amelia Atwater-Rhodes is right.  I am sitting here while my 6-year-old is eating an Oreo yogurt.  He carefully dumps the cookie pieces into his yogurt and quickly stirs it up--obviously excited about taking that first bite.  I mean, come on--it's yogurt with COOKIES in it!  What's not to like?  So, I said, "Logan, do you think that yogurt is better with the cookies or without?"  He looks up at me and says, "With cookies.  Without the cookies it's just plain, old, boring yogurt." I love the way my kids see the world.  It was funny because it struck me that Logan's cookie yogurt is like life.  Without the cookies (ie. chaos) it's just "plain old, boring" life. Chaos keeps us on our toes.  It makes us examine things about ourselves that maybe we haven't thought about or noticed.  Chaos adds spice to our life and, the truth is, chaos isn't always a bad thing.  

So, embrace the chaos in your life.  It is, after all, keeping it interesting. ;)  (I know it's easier said than done, but I'm trying REALLY hard! LOL.) 

Making Peace With The Mirror!

Today, while walking to my car in a parking lot, a young man whistled at me and then yelled something at me stating that he liked a certain part of my body.  Completely inappropriate but, as a soon-to-be 35-year-old woman with three kids, a little part of me liked that a stranger didn't find me completely repulsive!  I shared this incident with my best friend and made a joke about how the young man must need glasses.  She didn't find my joke funny.  I also shared it with another bestie of mine who responded by rolling her eyes. This friend is constantly calling me "hot mama" and is a great self esteem booster.  She always tells me she loves my hair or that I'm pretty--well, just being called "hot mama" on a regular basis by your friend will make one smile.  LOL  My best friend is constantly telling me that she thinks I'm gorgeous and wishes I could see myself the way others see me.  I have thought about their reactions some today and came to this conclusion:  It's time to make peace with the mirror.  By doing that I would, in turn, have to make peace with myself, right?

In an earlier post I stated that I was going to accept myself.  My best friend has already taken the liberty of reminding me of that post.  I have read about women going on a mirror fast.  That is all well and good but what happens when, one day, your fast is over and you find yourself, once again, looking at your reflection.  The mirror isn't the problem--it's merely a piece of glass.  The way we see ourselves is the problem.  And for me, it IS a problem.  I never leave the house thinking, "I look so good!"  I leave the house thinking, "I guess I look okay."  And, honestly, I'm more than happy to go through the day without one person noticing me.

So, I have decided to make peace with my mirror. I know these two amazing friends aren't going to leave me alone until I do. My husband agrees with them and is constantly telling me that I'm "mean" to myself because I don't look in the mirror and see a pretty woman staring back at me.  I just see . . . me.   I may not be on the cover of magazines but lets be honest, how many women really are?  It's time to look in the mirror and see myself the way those closest to me see me.
It's time to make peace with the mirror . . .

. . . and with myself.  

Happy New Year!

Kaitlyn and me on New Year's Eve--just me, no make up or anything.  I wasn't intending to have my picture taken, but she and I were having a lot of fun and Alex thought we needed a picture! And you know what?  I'm okay with that. ;)

I have been reading people's new year's resolutions.  I don't really do the whole resolutions thing because most of the time life gets busy and they get pushed aside, if not forgotten completely. At least in my world. The new year does make me think about my life, though.  And I have been doing a lot of thinking.  So instead of making resolutions for a new year I want to just share some of things I want.  

First, I want to look in the mirror and be happy with what I see.  So many times the mirror and I just do not get along.  It seems cruel and hateful--truth is, it is MY reflection and it is MY mind that is cruel and hateful, not the poor mirror's. I am my own worst critic and so often I look in the mirror and hate what I see.  I want to start looking in the mirror and being happy with the image staring back at me. I told my best friend, Denisa, one day that I am ugly and needed to lose weight and let my hair grow out--more hair, less weight.  The truth is.  I like my hair short.  Some days I don't like how I look with short hair but it's so easy to fix. And one of my best friends, Brittani, tells me EVERY SINGLE TIME she sees me that she LOVES my hair. So, I think I've decided to keep it short. To embrace it for the cool haircut it is and stop feeling like such an ugly person all the time! I'm no Anne Hathaway but as far as I can tell, people aren't screaming and running from me as I walk towards them. ;) 

Secondly, I want to accept myself for who I am.  The world bombards us with images and ideas of who we should be, what we should wear, what we should like/enjoy.  In 2013 I will be 35 years old. Wow.  It's time to embrace who I am and enjoy what I enjoy. I'm a book nerd who enjoys writing.  I love coffee and all things vintage.  I enjoy old movies, art, literature, and cooking.  I am not a super model.  I am not a famous person.  I am a not a brilliant writer.  Jacob and I always say, "It is what it is."  Well, in this respect, I am who I am. Take me or leave me, but don't try to change me. ;) 

Thirdly, I do want to get back into the habit of kickboxing. Jacob got me the cool pink gloves for the punching bag and it is one of the things I enjoy doing. Since I had Kaitlyn finding the time to actually go out to the garage and do kick boxing seems harder, but I want to try and MAKE time for that. It is one thing I miss.  I love having the music blasting and punching and kicking the punching bag.  It's great for stress and everything else life throws at you. It's also great exercise and, let's face it, I'm not getting any younger. 

Finally, I want to be the best mom to my three gremlins that I could possibly be.  I love spending time with them and just being near their energetic, imaginative, big heart-ed world.  They make me smile each and every day and I want them to know that their mother loves them more than life itself.  Each year as I get older, they get older too.  I want to cherish every moment I can with them and be sure they know they are loved far more than they could ever imagine.  

2013 is here.  What kind of year will YOU make it?  I wish all of my wonderful friends and family a fabulous year filled with love, laughter, and happiness!