It all started with our fridge smelling like poo or a dead rodent or broccoli... starting on Friday night - right after I went to the store. Every time we opened the fridge a new, horribly overpowering wave of stink filled the kitchen. Greg was practically gagging by Sunday while I assured him it was the super fresh, bright green broccoli I had just purchased because sometimes it's just like that, and it is fine.
So I roasted it for dinner.
And it did not help.
We threw away a few things, but nothing was terribly very old or rotten.
"I think it might be this really fresh chicken I just bought."
Greg (gagging) "If that's our chicken, I don't think we should eat it."
Whatever. I got that chicken for $2.71 on clearance on the "sell by" date, and I had a plan for that chicken. So I told Greg how sometimes fresh chicken with skin on is just like that, and it's just fine.
Tonight I drowned the chicken in teriyaki sauce to alleviate the offensiveness and prepare for tomorrow night's dinner. The kitchen aroma was almost making our eyes water. "See, it IS the chicken, but now it's in teriyaki sauce and it'll be better."
Then my hubby had the nerve to look up what rotten egg raw chicken stink might mean on the internet. While I am getting Grace to bed, he calls up "I'm reading some about what chicken that smells like that means, and I don't think we should eat it."
"Honey, I bought it on the sell-by date and that was just a couple of days ago - it's fine. Sometimes chicken is just like that (I kept saying this but I had no actual research to back it up other than how the raw chicken package makes the trash smell the day after we throw it away)."
"OK, well you can see what you think - but I think you should read a little about it."
Pretty much all the research agrees with Greg.
It's in the driveway trash can marinating in teriyaki now.
In other news, I am reading my first Jen Hatmaker book, and I don't know where she has been my whole life. I love her gritty, put it all out there writing style. I am devouring her book Interrupted-When Jesus Wrecks your Comfortable Christianity and just met her blog tonight. I appreciate her authenticity as a woman who has been in some difficult places and also her gift of sarcasm (maybe especially this...)
And in other other news - we are in the middle of a very DIY kitchen redo, and my husband is awesome at that stuff so it'll be amazing but also a process. We finished our island this weekend, and I LOVE it so much I had to make scones on it.
And the letters on the chalkboard in the background are supposed to say "create" at the top and "learn" at the bottom, but Grace feels like this is entirely too boring and constantly changes them to different words that are usually not words.
I miss Abby and Emma, but they are thriving where they are. Grace was at 5th grade camp for 3 days last week which made me miss her too and feel weird and like I must be at least 57 with all of my children in different places... until date night with Greg which made it all better and will definitely be a perk of empty nesting.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
I suppose it's time for a true confession
By Friday evening, I'm usually having troubles and sometimes I don't realize it. Like too many early mornings in a row causing absent-minded fuzzy brain and an urge to cry at around 5:09 for no reason at all. I am more tired than I feel, so I try to do things and sometimes, it's a bad idea.
Such as trying to buy something at Target. Grace needed a birthday present for a party tomorrow, so we ran to Target after work and school. We found a gift fairly easily and proceeded to check out. Everything was fine and smooth until my debit card asked if I wanted cash back.
I puzzled over it for a moment and pressed YES because the girls need allowance - easy-peasey. My $13.71 bill now became $23.71. No problem.
"Do I want my entire amount on my debit card?" the machine asked. "Nope," I said. "I only want $13.71 on my card, and I want the rest in cash." I panicked a little because when I pressed "no" on the machine, everything kind of fell apart.
So I explained my predicament again to the checker. "Do you understand what I'm saying? I only want to pay the amount for my bill, $13.71, with my card, and then I need the other $10 in cash." I think I repeated a different version of this about 3 times with people waiting in line pretty close behind me.
She had NO response to that, She was NOT helping me at all. This was kind of hard, and I felt confused and a little angry.
And then it hit me.
And it was one of those moments you absolutely can't fix. Inside, I was screaming, "I am a smart person. I just got a 97.3 in a college statistics class. I have daughters who scored REALLY high on their SATs..."
But I just quietly said, "I'm really sorry." And I kind of whispered, "yes, I want all $23.71 on the card and then you'll give me $10 back." Like I just had to play along with my Friday alter ego and talk this through to let this poor girl see that indeed, I had connected my own dots. Everything was ok, because now I understood this difficult thing.
She smiled one of the most relieved smiles I've seen in a long time and sweetly said, "I really like to help people when they have questions, because I want to do everything I can to help people, but I just didn't know how to help you."
There was nothing I could do. I grabbed my bag, forcing a genuine-looking appreciative grin...
"Thank you," I mumbled on my race out of there, "it's just that it's Friday."
Such as trying to buy something at Target. Grace needed a birthday present for a party tomorrow, so we ran to Target after work and school. We found a gift fairly easily and proceeded to check out. Everything was fine and smooth until my debit card asked if I wanted cash back.
I puzzled over it for a moment and pressed YES because the girls need allowance - easy-peasey. My $13.71 bill now became $23.71. No problem.
"Do I want my entire amount on my debit card?" the machine asked. "Nope," I said. "I only want $13.71 on my card, and I want the rest in cash." I panicked a little because when I pressed "no" on the machine, everything kind of fell apart.
So I explained my predicament again to the checker. "Do you understand what I'm saying? I only want to pay the amount for my bill, $13.71, with my card, and then I need the other $10 in cash." I think I repeated a different version of this about 3 times with people waiting in line pretty close behind me.
She had NO response to that, She was NOT helping me at all. This was kind of hard, and I felt confused and a little angry.
And then it hit me.
And it was one of those moments you absolutely can't fix. Inside, I was screaming, "I am a smart person. I just got a 97.3 in a college statistics class. I have daughters who scored REALLY high on their SATs..."
But I just quietly said, "I'm really sorry." And I kind of whispered, "yes, I want all $23.71 on the card and then you'll give me $10 back." Like I just had to play along with my Friday alter ego and talk this through to let this poor girl see that indeed, I had connected my own dots. Everything was ok, because now I understood this difficult thing.
She smiled one of the most relieved smiles I've seen in a long time and sweetly said, "I really like to help people when they have questions, because I want to do everything I can to help people, but I just didn't know how to help you."
There was nothing I could do. I grabbed my bag, forcing a genuine-looking appreciative grin...
"Thank you," I mumbled on my race out of there, "it's just that it's Friday."
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Growing Grit and My First Rodeo
We are on the home stretch of the school year and in the throes of planning and attending graduation events and taking major (as in 4 intense hours per test) AP exams. OK, that's just Abby with 3 last week and 4 coming up this week and Emma with one this week. I just completed a Statistics course through a community college, because I am hoping to apply for a graduate program in Speech Pathology that would start next May. The American Speech and Hearing Association recently listed some extra pre-requisites necessary before starting graduate work in the field. I awesomely timed my statistics course to happen while Abby has been taking AP Stat, and she was perfectly trained to come running to my side at the computer whenever she heard a grown-up, stressed-out and slightly whiney voice calling her name.
Emma has finished all of her One Act Play competitions for the year and has two more Speech tournaments to go. Grace finished her "state testing" and has thrived in fourth grade this year. Three official weeks of school left...
And then glorious summer and everything gets weird. I can't figure out if we're all ready for what is to come. I just know that's where we're headed - toward what is to come. My prayer is that we will jump into the unknown with hope in the One who brought us there and grit to stay the course He directs us toward.
That probably should be on a motivational poster.
And while I hate sounding trite or cheesy, this really is my prayer, and I am so grateful I am dependent on Another who can handle what is ahead.
Which brings me to running... Stay with me - it makes sense in my head. There was a time I believed deep down in an unspoken place that the Lord would not lead me into a place that really felt too hard for me; that if I was supposed to be there it would feel like it, even if it was too hard for other people.
I lacked grit. I maybe had a little, but not very much. If something felt genuinely too hard for me, my default was (and still is) to look for an escape or at least a way to make it easier, because something must be wrong. I must be in the wrong place.
Then I started running. And running was hard; it did NOT feel good. As I continued to run and moved a little past the "O my gosh, how do people do this? I CANNOT breathe!" phase, I realized how great it felt to finish something that felt hard the whole way. I was growing grit.
This is partly why I keep running. I love it for many reasons, and I am not fast or great at it, but I am keenly aware that I am doing this hard thing and that I keep doing it.
We have been through some difficult things and in some difficult places that I know the Lord led us into and through knowing we would struggle and fail. I have told people that He hurt my feelings by doing that, and He did, but He has also grown me. He is growing me in a willingness to try hard things without a promise of them being anything other than hard. While this is not my default and probably never will be, I keep running and hope my aging joints will allow me to continue to grow grit.
Not much to report about the rodeo really, except that it really was my first one. Since I'm needing to keep my Texas card I won't say much about not really being a rodeo gal, but it was great fun to be there with Grace for her 4th grade field trip. And I only grabbed the shoulder of the woman sitting next to me (who I just met) one time when a crazy man fell off and underneath an angry bull and was temporarily smushed against the arena wall.
Mostly I thought it went well with "growing grit," so I threw it in the title.
By the end of this summer, Greg says I will run 9.3 miles around White Rock Lake (because he knows it's a dream of mine). Last weekend, I got up to 6.2 miles for a training run. Next Saturday I'm running in a 5K that my mom is also running in - her first official 5k, because she has only taken up running in the last couple of months after recovering from surgery, chemo, and radiation for breast cancer. That's what I'm working on... hope and grit.
Emma has finished all of her One Act Play competitions for the year and has two more Speech tournaments to go. Grace finished her "state testing" and has thrived in fourth grade this year. Three official weeks of school left...
And then glorious summer and everything gets weird. I can't figure out if we're all ready for what is to come. I just know that's where we're headed - toward what is to come. My prayer is that we will jump into the unknown with hope in the One who brought us there and grit to stay the course He directs us toward.
That probably should be on a motivational poster.
And while I hate sounding trite or cheesy, this really is my prayer, and I am so grateful I am dependent on Another who can handle what is ahead.
Which brings me to running... Stay with me - it makes sense in my head. There was a time I believed deep down in an unspoken place that the Lord would not lead me into a place that really felt too hard for me; that if I was supposed to be there it would feel like it, even if it was too hard for other people.
I lacked grit. I maybe had a little, but not very much. If something felt genuinely too hard for me, my default was (and still is) to look for an escape or at least a way to make it easier, because something must be wrong. I must be in the wrong place.
Then I started running. And running was hard; it did NOT feel good. As I continued to run and moved a little past the "O my gosh, how do people do this? I CANNOT breathe!" phase, I realized how great it felt to finish something that felt hard the whole way. I was growing grit.
This is partly why I keep running. I love it for many reasons, and I am not fast or great at it, but I am keenly aware that I am doing this hard thing and that I keep doing it.
We have been through some difficult things and in some difficult places that I know the Lord led us into and through knowing we would struggle and fail. I have told people that He hurt my feelings by doing that, and He did, but He has also grown me. He is growing me in a willingness to try hard things without a promise of them being anything other than hard. While this is not my default and probably never will be, I keep running and hope my aging joints will allow me to continue to grow grit.
Not much to report about the rodeo really, except that it really was my first one. Since I'm needing to keep my Texas card I won't say much about not really being a rodeo gal, but it was great fun to be there with Grace for her 4th grade field trip. And I only grabbed the shoulder of the woman sitting next to me (who I just met) one time when a crazy man fell off and underneath an angry bull and was temporarily smushed against the arena wall.
Mostly I thought it went well with "growing grit," so I threw it in the title.
By the end of this summer, Greg says I will run 9.3 miles around White Rock Lake (because he knows it's a dream of mine). Last weekend, I got up to 6.2 miles for a training run. Next Saturday I'm running in a 5K that my mom is also running in - her first official 5k, because she has only taken up running in the last couple of months after recovering from surgery, chemo, and radiation for breast cancer. That's what I'm working on... hope and grit.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Wait, What?
Why am I bothering, you ask (or not)?
Not sure... but so much is going on, and I have been recently challenged toward greater authenticity and vulnerability, and my subtitle about the whole working mom thing shows that I'm obviously not keeping up with that plus this blog - although that was the idea behind starting this - to chronicle what it's really like, at least for me. Which actually speaks volumes, I guess.
About the tyranny of the urgent
And good ideas falling short of their potential
And dull thoughts leading to having little to say
And lack of inspiration
And maybe lack of vulnerability (but probably not)
And a little bit of fear
And stage of life - which is the best excuse ever for anyone, because we're all in one ALL THE TIME.
Quick update, so I can hopefully jump into the craziness of all that's coming up with a little more frequency and vulnerability and less necessary background information, because what is coming is something vastly different for us.
College.
Two children (not twins, so a bit unexpected) going off to college in the fall. Abby is heading to Texas Tech as a scholarship recipient and Mechanical Engineering major and National Merit Scholar. Emma is heading to the University of North Texas as a Texas Academy of Math and Science (early college entrance) scholarship recipient... which all makes us ridiculously proud, especially because people automatically assume Greg and I passed on the smart genes and are also "that way". We actually scored the same terribly unimpressive middle of the road score on our SAT, but keep that to yourself, and I think we're getting smarter anyway.
Grace will be going to "The Intermediate School" next year as a 5th grader and definitely staying home.
And well, I'm ordering raincoats in the middle of the night on Amazon so Abby and Emma will be able to walk to class in the rain because I'm having little panic attacks like that. And Greg couldn't sleep one night, because all he could think about was how we needed an external hard drive to back up all of our pictures of the girls in case the computer crashed that night, and was there any kind of emergency 24 hour Best Buy for such things?
And as we head into prom and graduation and all of the unknown beyond, I hope to be a little more present and real here... maybe.
Not sure... but so much is going on, and I have been recently challenged toward greater authenticity and vulnerability, and my subtitle about the whole working mom thing shows that I'm obviously not keeping up with that plus this blog - although that was the idea behind starting this - to chronicle what it's really like, at least for me. Which actually speaks volumes, I guess.
About the tyranny of the urgent
And good ideas falling short of their potential
And dull thoughts leading to having little to say
And lack of inspiration
And maybe lack of vulnerability (but probably not)
And a little bit of fear
And stage of life - which is the best excuse ever for anyone, because we're all in one ALL THE TIME.
Quick update, so I can hopefully jump into the craziness of all that's coming up with a little more frequency and vulnerability and less necessary background information, because what is coming is something vastly different for us.
College.
Two children (not twins, so a bit unexpected) going off to college in the fall. Abby is heading to Texas Tech as a scholarship recipient and Mechanical Engineering major and National Merit Scholar. Emma is heading to the University of North Texas as a Texas Academy of Math and Science (early college entrance) scholarship recipient... which all makes us ridiculously proud, especially because people automatically assume Greg and I passed on the smart genes and are also "that way". We actually scored the same terribly unimpressive middle of the road score on our SAT, but keep that to yourself, and I think we're getting smarter anyway.
Grace will be going to "The Intermediate School" next year as a 5th grader and definitely staying home.
And well, I'm ordering raincoats in the middle of the night on Amazon so Abby and Emma will be able to walk to class in the rain because I'm having little panic attacks like that. And Greg couldn't sleep one night, because all he could think about was how we needed an external hard drive to back up all of our pictures of the girls in case the computer crashed that night, and was there any kind of emergency 24 hour Best Buy for such things?
And as we head into prom and graduation and all of the unknown beyond, I hope to be a little more present and real here... maybe.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Beautiful Friday
Good Friday. Every year I'm caught off-guard again by this title - no surprise there, I know. But it's true.
I had today off, which was definitely good. I went for an invigorating run this morning, also good. Woke up with a headache - not so good, but coffee and ibuprofen worked - good. Apple muffins were already made - good. Just realized I left wet clothes in the washer almost all day, not good. Ate Pei Wei for dinner - good.
"Good" according to a few definitions from good ol' Webster: "of a favorable character or tendency, profitable, fit, advantageous, suitable, agreeable..."
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = suitable and fit substitute payment for what I owe, thus "good" in my Heavenly Father's eyes.
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = advantageous, profitable, and life-giving for me based on nothing I've done or deserve, thus very "good" for me.
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = horrible agony and pain willingly and unfairly suffered by perfect Jesus, thus what for Him?
I don't know.
I ran this morning through the most beautiful version creation gives me of Good Friday. It was my favorite kind of outside moment - the gorgeous deep, billowy dark blue-gray, stormy sky with golden-bright sun shimmering through like spotlights on trees, houses, landscape. That fleeting, wonderfulness where the illuminated spring green of the trees against the deep purple backdrop is fiction-esquely beautiful but very real... because I'm running smack into it, weaving in and out and through it, breathing it in...
Breathing in the oppressively gray sky, heavy with grief and pain and death. Breathing in the glorious golden beams of hope and life shimmering in brilliantly stark contrast. Each opposing and complementing the other in a beautiful tension.
And I know that knowing how the story ends makes all the difference, and I know that this day is beautiful.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I had today off, which was definitely good. I went for an invigorating run this morning, also good. Woke up with a headache - not so good, but coffee and ibuprofen worked - good. Apple muffins were already made - good. Just realized I left wet clothes in the washer almost all day, not good. Ate Pei Wei for dinner - good.
"Good" according to a few definitions from good ol' Webster: "of a favorable character or tendency, profitable, fit, advantageous, suitable, agreeable..."
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = suitable and fit substitute payment for what I owe, thus "good" in my Heavenly Father's eyes.
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = advantageous, profitable, and life-giving for me based on nothing I've done or deserve, thus very "good" for me.
Good Friday: Christ's sacrifice = horrible agony and pain willingly and unfairly suffered by perfect Jesus, thus what for Him?
I don't know.
I ran this morning through the most beautiful version creation gives me of Good Friday. It was my favorite kind of outside moment - the gorgeous deep, billowy dark blue-gray, stormy sky with golden-bright sun shimmering through like spotlights on trees, houses, landscape. That fleeting, wonderfulness where the illuminated spring green of the trees against the deep purple backdrop is fiction-esquely beautiful but very real... because I'm running smack into it, weaving in and out and through it, breathing it in...
Breathing in the oppressively gray sky, heavy with grief and pain and death. Breathing in the glorious golden beams of hope and life shimmering in brilliantly stark contrast. Each opposing and complementing the other in a beautiful tension.
And I know that knowing how the story ends makes all the difference, and I know that this day is beautiful.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
One cool thing.
The holidays have been a whirlwind, of course, just like for you...
BUT - in the midst of the whirlwind as I, in a dazed and confused holiday whirlwind-induced stupor, stood at the front of the checkout line at Target, a moment happened.
It was the day after Christmas, I think. I navigated the familiar and wonderful Super Target like a pro, albeit a dazed one, zombie-like, making no eye contact with a single human being. I almost forgot there were others of those in the store.
Grabbing my bags of purchased goods, there was a lone box of Uncle Ben's Original Long Grain and Wild Rice Fast Cook version that I realized never made it onto the belt. It was not bagged, and it was what would turn leftover smoked turkey into Chicken and Wild Rice Soup for dinner (except with smoked turkey).
The next guest was now being served, so I finally made eye contact with the cashier and asked if I might be allowed to quickly purchase my main ingredient after the current guest was through. Yes, I could.
Waiting in my continued dazed state, I began to surmise my surroundings. A family of four with two small boys was behind me - all with such a joyful countenance. I wondered at their joy, being at Target on the day after Christmas with the rest of the city and two small boys. Then I was alerted to the fact that the cashier was trying to get my attention.
She smiled and said I could go. I looked up and noticed the couple was looking at me and smiling. They bought my rice.
I was abruptly shaken out of my dazed state and realized that this couple saw me. They didn't just accidentally notice me or vaguely take a glance about - they SAW me.
And I knew the source of their joy, and I felt ashamed that I had forgotten. I walked to my car with a goofy, unstoppable grin on my face.
May I have eyes that see in 2013.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
BUT - in the midst of the whirlwind as I, in a dazed and confused holiday whirlwind-induced stupor, stood at the front of the checkout line at Target, a moment happened.
It was the day after Christmas, I think. I navigated the familiar and wonderful Super Target like a pro, albeit a dazed one, zombie-like, making no eye contact with a single human being. I almost forgot there were others of those in the store.
Grabbing my bags of purchased goods, there was a lone box of Uncle Ben's Original Long Grain and Wild Rice Fast Cook version that I realized never made it onto the belt. It was not bagged, and it was what would turn leftover smoked turkey into Chicken and Wild Rice Soup for dinner (except with smoked turkey).
The next guest was now being served, so I finally made eye contact with the cashier and asked if I might be allowed to quickly purchase my main ingredient after the current guest was through. Yes, I could.
Waiting in my continued dazed state, I began to surmise my surroundings. A family of four with two small boys was behind me - all with such a joyful countenance. I wondered at their joy, being at Target on the day after Christmas with the rest of the city and two small boys. Then I was alerted to the fact that the cashier was trying to get my attention.
She smiled and said I could go. I looked up and noticed the couple was looking at me and smiling. They bought my rice.
I was abruptly shaken out of my dazed state and realized that this couple saw me. They didn't just accidentally notice me or vaguely take a glance about - they SAW me.
And I knew the source of their joy, and I felt ashamed that I had forgotten. I walked to my car with a goofy, unstoppable grin on my face.
May I have eyes that see in 2013.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I Believe in Looking at the Sky Everyday
In trying to develop any semblance of thought resembling a "This I Believe Essay," I just decided to start somewhere. My previous try took me toward describing my tea bag instead, so here is actually why I think the sky is so important...
I believe in looking at the sky everyday. By "day" I mean a 24 hour period. There are places I have lived, like rural Kansas, where this statement as a concept is absurd. How can you help it when "the sky" makes up 90% of the landscape directly in front of you at any given time? The only way to miss the sky is to make a conscious decision not to look anywhere. I believe, however, that most of us who lived there missed it - yep, missed the sky - as a direct consequences of not looking at it on purpose.
Now I live in Dallas as one tiny piece of a progressive and bustling sky-obstructing landscape. The sky is not in front of you, it is actually above you in bits like an elusive, rare bird occasionally singing, daring you to spot it. If you don't even try, you won't.
I believe in stratus, cirrus, and cumulus, in stars and galaxies, in the moon and setting and rising sun - and that every moment of every day is a brilliant new work of art (albeit sometimes various shades of gray) on a huge canvas completely accessible to every living being on this planet. It is abstract Impressionism, minimalism, realism - powerful beauty and mystery available to the wealthy and those in poverty, to every age, gender, village and neighborhood.
I believe the simple act of purposefully looking up lifts me out of my myopic, self-absorbed, familiar universe and transports me to mystery and beauty and a vastness that grounds me... One that reminds me of who else is in this gallery with me while simultaneously filling me with a throat-clenching gratitude that this is all here for me -
because I'm looking.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I believe in looking at the sky everyday. By "day" I mean a 24 hour period. There are places I have lived, like rural Kansas, where this statement as a concept is absurd. How can you help it when "the sky" makes up 90% of the landscape directly in front of you at any given time? The only way to miss the sky is to make a conscious decision not to look anywhere. I believe, however, that most of us who lived there missed it - yep, missed the sky - as a direct consequences of not looking at it on purpose.
Now I live in Dallas as one tiny piece of a progressive and bustling sky-obstructing landscape. The sky is not in front of you, it is actually above you in bits like an elusive, rare bird occasionally singing, daring you to spot it. If you don't even try, you won't.
I believe in stratus, cirrus, and cumulus, in stars and galaxies, in the moon and setting and rising sun - and that every moment of every day is a brilliant new work of art (albeit sometimes various shades of gray) on a huge canvas completely accessible to every living being on this planet. It is abstract Impressionism, minimalism, realism - powerful beauty and mystery available to the wealthy and those in poverty, to every age, gender, village and neighborhood.
I believe the simple act of purposefully looking up lifts me out of my myopic, self-absorbed, familiar universe and transports me to mystery and beauty and a vastness that grounds me... One that reminds me of who else is in this gallery with me while simultaneously filling me with a throat-clenching gratitude that this is all here for me -
because I'm looking.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Journal Entry 2-21-12, 9:00pm
Why is the sky so important?
I wish I could write about that,
But I feel so sleepy
And my nose is stuffy
And runny and raw
And I keep getting distracted
By the tea bag label hanging over
the side of my mug.
It is wildly flapping and twisting
under the ceiling fan,
Changing from green to white
and white to green,
From Peppermint Herbal Tea
To Stash Premium Tea,
And I've decided that brushing my teeth
again after I drink it is unnecessary
Because my mouth feels minty
(and I didn't add sugar).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I wish I could write about that,
But I feel so sleepy
And my nose is stuffy
And runny and raw
And I keep getting distracted
By the tea bag label hanging over
the side of my mug.
It is wildly flapping and twisting
under the ceiling fan,
Changing from green to white
and white to green,
From Peppermint Herbal Tea
To Stash Premium Tea,
And I've decided that brushing my teeth
again after I drink it is unnecessary
Because my mouth feels minty
(and I didn't add sugar).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, February 19, 2012
This I Believe
I have just become acquainted with the concept of the "This I Believe" essay, because my oldest daughter Abby had to write one for her GT sophomore English class. It is essentially a brief (under 500 words) essay declaring why you believe in something that you submit to the This I Believe website and the best are chosen for publication.
Great concept. There are some fabulous titles like "I Believe in Coolness to the Pizza Delivery Dude" written by a community college English professor and "I Believe in Lunch Breaks" both of which take you on surprising journeys far beyond their humble titles.
Of course I now can't stop thinking about all of the things I believe in...
But I can't get beyond the fact that I believe in them. I can't seem to fully develop an idea even to only 500ish words.
So what follows is a brief list of beginnings, because that's as far as I've gotten:
I believe in blogging, although you wouldn't know it.
I believe in looking at the sky everyday.
I believe in date night with my husband.
I believe in running outside.
I believe in sleeping in on Saturdays.
I believe in 100% whole wheat bread.
I believe in quiet.
I believe in think time.
I believe in taking my make-up off everyday.
I believe in grief and joy.
I believe in knowing my daughters (at least trying).
I believe in poetry.
I believe in Good Friday.
Maybe I'll develop one of these into an actual essay, maybe not. It's a start. If only I believed in finishing...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Great concept. There are some fabulous titles like "I Believe in Coolness to the Pizza Delivery Dude" written by a community college English professor and "I Believe in Lunch Breaks" both of which take you on surprising journeys far beyond their humble titles.
Of course I now can't stop thinking about all of the things I believe in...
But I can't get beyond the fact that I believe in them. I can't seem to fully develop an idea even to only 500ish words.
So what follows is a brief list of beginnings, because that's as far as I've gotten:
I believe in blogging, although you wouldn't know it.
I believe in looking at the sky everyday.
I believe in date night with my husband.
I believe in running outside.
I believe in sleeping in on Saturdays.
I believe in 100% whole wheat bread.
I believe in quiet.
I believe in think time.
I believe in taking my make-up off everyday.
I believe in grief and joy.
I believe in knowing my daughters (at least trying).
I believe in poetry.
I believe in Good Friday.
Maybe I'll develop one of these into an actual essay, maybe not. It's a start. If only I believed in finishing...
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Friday, January 27, 2012
A Necessary Friday
Sometimes you just find yourself happy it's Friday and perhaps a little more energized than usual in light of it... Or you've had a horrible week or a crazy busy week and you are ready to celebrate Friday like it's a national holiday that demands observance...
Or you feel a little foggy most of the day, happily stumble into the house with your children after work, try to make sense of the new, albeit super easy recipe you hope to have the mental capacity to complete, and 45 minutes later your husband brings you the keys that were in the minivan you left parked and running in front of the house - for 45 minutes...
That is a Friday you need.
Our church, Chase Oaks Church has a Friday night service that I love to attend as a family. It is such a great way to kick off the weekend and it's honestly a fun Friday night gig. I grabbed coffee as soon as I got there tonight, but I think I'm deluding myself. I am just too far gone.
Due to this, I will be brief with any thoughts in my own head.
I leave you with my new currentlies and a prayer...
CURRENT CURRENTLIES:
Exercising - on the "Something's Better Than Nothing" Plan (designed it myself). Working out twice a week at a gym for some strength building with Greg and running twice a week... When able, because on the SBTNP, pressure and guilt are nonexistent, and I can't be derailed if I miss a week.
Watching - the BBC show Sherlock with Greg and the older girls. Good stuff. Tried the premier of Touch from the kitchen while making lunches, not so impressed.
Listening to - the new David Crowder Band album entitled Give Us Rest. Haven't heard everything yet, but that's on my weekend to do list. Love what I've heard so far.
Reading - Southern Living and Country Living every month (like a party in my mailbox when I find one) and trying new fast recipes.
The Hunger Games - still too early to tell, engaging.
Outliers as an IBook - have a hard time putting that one down, fascinating! What is my 10,000 hours thing? I need to know!
Reflections for Ragamuffins Daily Devotions by Brennan Manning - I love this. Each day holds a poignantly refreshing and accessible focus on truth I can digest over cold cereal at 6:00 am before the madness takes over.
I leave you with a beautiful, now dog-eared prayer by Brennan on January 22nd:
Jesus, my Brother and Lord,
I pray as I write these words for the grace to be truly poor before you, to recognize and accept my weakness and humanness, to forgo the indecent luxury of self-hatred, to celebrate your mercy and trust in your power when I'm at my weakest, to rely on your love no matter what I may do, to seek no escapes from my innate poverty, to accept loneliness when it comes instead of seeking substitutes, to live peacefully without clarity or assurance, to stop grandstanding and trying to get attention, to do the truth quietly without display, to let the dishonesties in my life fade away, to belong no more to myself, not to desert my post when I give the appearance of staying at it, to cling to my humanity, to accept the limitations and full responsibility of being a human being - really human and really poor in Christ our Lord.
Amen.
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Or you feel a little foggy most of the day, happily stumble into the house with your children after work, try to make sense of the new, albeit super easy recipe you hope to have the mental capacity to complete, and 45 minutes later your husband brings you the keys that were in the minivan you left parked and running in front of the house - for 45 minutes...
That is a Friday you need.
Our church, Chase Oaks Church has a Friday night service that I love to attend as a family. It is such a great way to kick off the weekend and it's honestly a fun Friday night gig. I grabbed coffee as soon as I got there tonight, but I think I'm deluding myself. I am just too far gone.
Due to this, I will be brief with any thoughts in my own head.
I leave you with my new currentlies and a prayer...
CURRENT CURRENTLIES:
Exercising - on the "Something's Better Than Nothing" Plan (designed it myself). Working out twice a week at a gym for some strength building with Greg and running twice a week... When able, because on the SBTNP, pressure and guilt are nonexistent, and I can't be derailed if I miss a week.
Watching - the BBC show Sherlock with Greg and the older girls. Good stuff. Tried the premier of Touch from the kitchen while making lunches, not so impressed.
Listening to - the new David Crowder Band album entitled Give Us Rest. Haven't heard everything yet, but that's on my weekend to do list. Love what I've heard so far.
Reading - Southern Living and Country Living every month (like a party in my mailbox when I find one) and trying new fast recipes.
The Hunger Games - still too early to tell, engaging.
Outliers as an IBook - have a hard time putting that one down, fascinating! What is my 10,000 hours thing? I need to know!
Reflections for Ragamuffins Daily Devotions by Brennan Manning - I love this. Each day holds a poignantly refreshing and accessible focus on truth I can digest over cold cereal at 6:00 am before the madness takes over.
I leave you with a beautiful, now dog-eared prayer by Brennan on January 22nd:
Jesus, my Brother and Lord,
I pray as I write these words for the grace to be truly poor before you, to recognize and accept my weakness and humanness, to forgo the indecent luxury of self-hatred, to celebrate your mercy and trust in your power when I'm at my weakest, to rely on your love no matter what I may do, to seek no escapes from my innate poverty, to accept loneliness when it comes instead of seeking substitutes, to live peacefully without clarity or assurance, to stop grandstanding and trying to get attention, to do the truth quietly without display, to let the dishonesties in my life fade away, to belong no more to myself, not to desert my post when I give the appearance of staying at it, to cling to my humanity, to accept the limitations and full responsibility of being a human being - really human and really poor in Christ our Lord.
Amen.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, January 5, 2012
One stinky little thing
Sometimes you have a great day and a great outlook and a decent energy level. Sometimes your mental and creative energy is flowing pretty well and then one stinky little thing throws you off... One stinky little thing, just one - but there goes your "great" and there goes your energy. Yeah, well, I hate when that happens.
And even though that might have happened at work today and I'm tired now (and my family got the leftovers of me after the stinky little thing), I still need to tell you about a simple story I heard.
A guy who spoke at our church last Sunday closed his message with a story about his 4 year old son who wanted him to come into his room and say "goodnight" after he got home from a late meeting. Turned out the meeting went much later than planned, so by the time he came home, his son had been in bed for several hours. Jason (our friend who was speaking) dutifully went in to his son's room anyway and was amazed to see that he was still awake.
"Why are you still awake?" he asked his bleary, squinty-eyed 4 year old.
Barely able to hold his eyes open, he said "Daddy, I kept my eyes open so I could see you."
O my goodness, he went a different direction with the poignancy of that comment, but I suddenly had my desperate prayer penned and my daily goal illuminated.
I wish I had the grit of that sweet 4 year old, but my prayer would be,
Father, please help me keep my eyes open so I can see You.
...even after one stinky little thing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
And even though that might have happened at work today and I'm tired now (and my family got the leftovers of me after the stinky little thing), I still need to tell you about a simple story I heard.
A guy who spoke at our church last Sunday closed his message with a story about his 4 year old son who wanted him to come into his room and say "goodnight" after he got home from a late meeting. Turned out the meeting went much later than planned, so by the time he came home, his son had been in bed for several hours. Jason (our friend who was speaking) dutifully went in to his son's room anyway and was amazed to see that he was still awake.
"Why are you still awake?" he asked his bleary, squinty-eyed 4 year old.
Barely able to hold his eyes open, he said "Daddy, I kept my eyes open so I could see you."
O my goodness, he went a different direction with the poignancy of that comment, but I suddenly had my desperate prayer penned and my daily goal illuminated.
I wish I had the grit of that sweet 4 year old, but my prayer would be,
Father, please help me keep my eyes open so I can see You.
...even after one stinky little thing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Back to the Beginning... Again
I should be de-Christmassing, but I generally hate that part of the holiday season.
In truth, I like the fresh start it represents and the opportunity to maybe have things organized once I'm done, but it's the process of getting there that troubles me.
Soooo, instead of getting started right away, I'm pondering the new year, Greg turning 40 and starting a new decade (one he's really looking forward to, I might add), and the unique wonderfulness of beginnings.



And seeing as how Grace got wind of my plans to de-Christmas soon and is consequently frantically reading all of the Christmas books one last time before they are locked away for a year, it seems only fair that I give her a moment.

I guess I love that as lost in a moment as I can be, a new year is still a new calendar that no one has written on - and it remains so until I take a pen in hand and start writing.
And regardless of cynical thoughts about my bajillion past ideas or dreams that have never come to fruition, that calendar stays clean with no plans or failures documented - until I try again, with my pen to own my new calendar.
And at the end of every year when I agonize over which new calendar to purchase (must have an emotional attachment), I am overwhelmed with it's newness.
I am overwhelmed with grace - the opportunity to begin again, again.
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In truth, I like the fresh start it represents and the opportunity to maybe have things organized once I'm done, but it's the process of getting there that troubles me.
Soooo, instead of getting started right away, I'm pondering the new year, Greg turning 40 and starting a new decade (one he's really looking forward to, I might add), and the unique wonderfulness of beginnings.



And seeing as how Grace got wind of my plans to de-Christmas soon and is consequently frantically reading all of the Christmas books one last time before they are locked away for a year, it seems only fair that I give her a moment.

I guess I love that as lost in a moment as I can be, a new year is still a new calendar that no one has written on - and it remains so until I take a pen in hand and start writing.
And regardless of cynical thoughts about my bajillion past ideas or dreams that have never come to fruition, that calendar stays clean with no plans or failures documented - until I try again, with my pen to own my new calendar.
And at the end of every year when I agonize over which new calendar to purchase (must have an emotional attachment), I am overwhelmed with it's newness.
I am overwhelmed with grace - the opportunity to begin again, again.
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Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Bathroom, The Nutcracker, and Prisoners
Yep, life has been a little nutty around here (as is typical for every American household in December)...
We are PRETTY excited about the bathroom makeover that has been taking place this week in the bathroom that Emma and Grace share. It was the only room in our wonderful home (that we snagged for an amazing bargain as a foreclosure that needed moderate love) that actually freaked me out when we first saw it. It was kind of creepy and dingy and had carpet.
Greg and I had been saving for an eventual remodel, and the time is finally here! It's a tad complicated when one upstairs bath is out of commission and the other is attached to our bedroom and closet which also happens to be The North Pole right now. The downstairs bath is doing triple time, and it works out with flexibility...



We had a great time with my parents who came last weekend for an early Christmas visit and to see Emma and Grace in The Nutcracker. I finished work before our break on Friday. Saturday was dress rehearsal ALL DAY and one performance that night. Sunday was the second performance, during which I volunteered as backstage mom for an abundance of little mice before and after their part in the performance. The bathroom guys started on Monday morning.
I've been shopping most of the week, because I have time off, for which I am grateful.
Greg works all day this week and has Christmas Eve rehearsals most evenings. He got home after dress rehearsal last night by 11:30.
I am not getting to Christmas cards this year, but we haven't changed all that much from our picture last year. I am loving the photos and catch up notes from many of you. Thank you for squeezing that into your own Christmas craziness.
I am finally feeling done and so overdue for time to JUST BE. Today was sunny and cool, a beautiful Texas winter day (which equals a good spring day in Iowa). I put on my running stuff, grabbed my iPod, and went for a jog.
My soul needed that time in the beauty with no one around. One of the albums on my iPod is Sara Groves, O Holy Night Tour, which is recorded live in a women's prison.
I was running and listening to her beautiful version of Angels we have Heard on High when my heart caught in my throat and surprised me with instant tears at the part when she said, "please sing with me, Gloria, will you sing that?"
The most amazing part of that song overwhelmed me as the lovely voices of the women prisoners sounded to me like angels joining in singing, "Gloria, gloria, gloria in excelsis deo..."
I don't know what is in the hearts of these women, but their voices were beautiful.
I wondered if I sing as beautifully as a prisoner who has been set free.
Or if I sing as one who feels contented with a comfortable life and comfortable Christmas that includes general happiness about eternity.
Or if I sing as one who is a prisoner still not aware of her freedom.
It all depends upon my state of mind, I suppose. I have sung as each.
Gloria, gloria, gloria in excelsis deo!
May we all sing as prisoners who have been set free this Christmas.
Merry Christmas!
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We are PRETTY excited about the bathroom makeover that has been taking place this week in the bathroom that Emma and Grace share. It was the only room in our wonderful home (that we snagged for an amazing bargain as a foreclosure that needed moderate love) that actually freaked me out when we first saw it. It was kind of creepy and dingy and had carpet.
Greg and I had been saving for an eventual remodel, and the time is finally here! It's a tad complicated when one upstairs bath is out of commission and the other is attached to our bedroom and closet which also happens to be The North Pole right now. The downstairs bath is doing triple time, and it works out with flexibility...



We had a great time with my parents who came last weekend for an early Christmas visit and to see Emma and Grace in The Nutcracker. I finished work before our break on Friday. Saturday was dress rehearsal ALL DAY and one performance that night. Sunday was the second performance, during which I volunteered as backstage mom for an abundance of little mice before and after their part in the performance. The bathroom guys started on Monday morning.
I've been shopping most of the week, because I have time off, for which I am grateful.
Greg works all day this week and has Christmas Eve rehearsals most evenings. He got home after dress rehearsal last night by 11:30.
I am not getting to Christmas cards this year, but we haven't changed all that much from our picture last year. I am loving the photos and catch up notes from many of you. Thank you for squeezing that into your own Christmas craziness.
I am finally feeling done and so overdue for time to JUST BE. Today was sunny and cool, a beautiful Texas winter day (which equals a good spring day in Iowa). I put on my running stuff, grabbed my iPod, and went for a jog.
My soul needed that time in the beauty with no one around. One of the albums on my iPod is Sara Groves, O Holy Night Tour, which is recorded live in a women's prison.
I was running and listening to her beautiful version of Angels we have Heard on High when my heart caught in my throat and surprised me with instant tears at the part when she said, "please sing with me, Gloria, will you sing that?"
The most amazing part of that song overwhelmed me as the lovely voices of the women prisoners sounded to me like angels joining in singing, "Gloria, gloria, gloria in excelsis deo..."
I don't know what is in the hearts of these women, but their voices were beautiful.
I wondered if I sing as beautifully as a prisoner who has been set free.
Or if I sing as one who feels contented with a comfortable life and comfortable Christmas that includes general happiness about eternity.
Or if I sing as one who is a prisoner still not aware of her freedom.
It all depends upon my state of mind, I suppose. I have sung as each.
Gloria, gloria, gloria in excelsis deo!
May we all sing as prisoners who have been set free this Christmas.
Merry Christmas!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, December 2, 2011
Ponderings and Plans, not necessarily in that order
Looking forward to a busy but fun weekend ahead. Greg and I are running in the City of Allen Rudolph Run 5K tomorrow, weather permitting. Abby has an all day service project with her youth group at a local food pantry, and Emma has ballet and then she'll be serving at her ballet company's Tea with the Sugar Plum Fairy. I am finally going to see The Help with my niece and sister-in-law in the afternoon, which I am pretty excited about.
And the Big Event of the weekend is...
Our annual Christmas Tree Decorating / Eat Chinese Take-out for Dinner Thing tomorrow night! Of course it is always frought with tangled, burned-out lights irritation, "that's my ornament!"itis, little welts where the fir needles poke us, sap from the trunk on our hands for about a week, general exhaustion from the whole experience, some repositioning after Grace is in bed, and needles everywhere, but honestly, the Chinese food makes it all better.
We've had this tradition for at least 9 years - enough to validate it with a red Chinese take-out box and chopsticks ornament. Our beautiful tree is standing in a bucket of water in the backyard for the time being, quivering in anticipation, I think.
Deep thoughts and/or quotables from the week (the ones I can remember):
Grace is a big Beverly Cleary fan, and she particularly loves and feels a kinship with Ramona as the youngest. Her comment after reading a portion of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 together tonight - "Beverly Cleary just knows how life really is."
I think I need to start my own bubble bath company. I am almost out and put it on the Christmas wish list that Grace started for every member of the family. I really do appreciate the wonderful aromatherapy scents I've had (relax, sleep, etc), but sometimes I need bubble bath called "Kick in the Rear" or "Get up and go organize a closet, already!". Haven't quite figured out the scents yet, but I'm working on it.
My Current Currentlies:
I am...
Currently reading: To Kill A Mockingbird and loving it (haven't read it since high school). That Harper Lee can craft a sentence - every one, in fact.
Currently listening to: Gungor's latest album Ghosts Upon the Earth - they are musical geniuses, amazing to listen to while running.
Sara Groves' new album Invisible Empires - love her voice and thoughtfulness.
And that's about it for now, because it's Friday night after a long week and my eyelids are getting droopy.
Happy Weekend to you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
And the Big Event of the weekend is...
Our annual Christmas Tree Decorating / Eat Chinese Take-out for Dinner Thing tomorrow night! Of course it is always frought with tangled, burned-out lights irritation, "that's my ornament!"itis, little welts where the fir needles poke us, sap from the trunk on our hands for about a week, general exhaustion from the whole experience, some repositioning after Grace is in bed, and needles everywhere, but honestly, the Chinese food makes it all better.
We've had this tradition for at least 9 years - enough to validate it with a red Chinese take-out box and chopsticks ornament. Our beautiful tree is standing in a bucket of water in the backyard for the time being, quivering in anticipation, I think.
Deep thoughts and/or quotables from the week (the ones I can remember):
Grace is a big Beverly Cleary fan, and she particularly loves and feels a kinship with Ramona as the youngest. Her comment after reading a portion of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 together tonight - "Beverly Cleary just knows how life really is."
I think I need to start my own bubble bath company. I am almost out and put it on the Christmas wish list that Grace started for every member of the family. I really do appreciate the wonderful aromatherapy scents I've had (relax, sleep, etc), but sometimes I need bubble bath called "Kick in the Rear" or "Get up and go organize a closet, already!". Haven't quite figured out the scents yet, but I'm working on it.
My Current Currentlies:
I am...
Currently reading: To Kill A Mockingbird and loving it (haven't read it since high school). That Harper Lee can craft a sentence - every one, in fact.
Currently listening to: Gungor's latest album Ghosts Upon the Earth - they are musical geniuses, amazing to listen to while running.
Sara Groves' new album Invisible Empires - love her voice and thoughtfulness.
And that's about it for now, because it's Friday night after a long week and my eyelids are getting droopy.
Happy Weekend to you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Turning in
I'm sitting here in our reading room with a cup of hot tea (the ingredients read "organic peppermint leaves from Oregon" which I find comforting) and filtering through my day in my head.
It was one of those mostly uneventful, but busy, run of the mill days. I don't much care for that type - not because I long for some kind of important event or crisis, heavens no. I am quite drawn to peace and calm in general.
It's more possibly due to feeling bored and worse yet, boring. I long to be full of creative ideas and brimming over with effectiveness in my job and family, and I'm noticing I really demand this daily. This admirable drive meets reality more often than I would like, and I am left once again to grapple with the problem of "How to make effective creativity happen."
My reaction to this kind of day is also possibly based upon my inability to see the extraordinary in the mundane. Although I learned of a parent who is discouraged at her older child's lack of progress on his "s" production today (his lisp was identified late after years of lisping practice, and we work on it over and over every week), today I also heard one of my students make his first ever beautiful "r." And then he repeated it nine times.
It all runs together into a mushy humdrum of busyness, and instead I want to take a moment to celebrate or think of a creative solution or glean someone's wisdom...
Or notice the amazing night sky with a wide strip of subtly beautiful rippled sand clouds blanketed across it and a crescent moon shining boldly within it. I did notice that one. On my walk with Greg tonight.
That makes me feel better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It was one of those mostly uneventful, but busy, run of the mill days. I don't much care for that type - not because I long for some kind of important event or crisis, heavens no. I am quite drawn to peace and calm in general.
It's more possibly due to feeling bored and worse yet, boring. I long to be full of creative ideas and brimming over with effectiveness in my job and family, and I'm noticing I really demand this daily. This admirable drive meets reality more often than I would like, and I am left once again to grapple with the problem of "How to make effective creativity happen."
My reaction to this kind of day is also possibly based upon my inability to see the extraordinary in the mundane. Although I learned of a parent who is discouraged at her older child's lack of progress on his "s" production today (his lisp was identified late after years of lisping practice, and we work on it over and over every week), today I also heard one of my students make his first ever beautiful "r." And then he repeated it nine times.
It all runs together into a mushy humdrum of busyness, and instead I want to take a moment to celebrate or think of a creative solution or glean someone's wisdom...
Or notice the amazing night sky with a wide strip of subtly beautiful rippled sand clouds blanketed across it and a crescent moon shining boldly within it. I did notice that one. On my walk with Greg tonight.
That makes me feel better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Confessions of a working mom
I am obviously struggling to keep up with my blog - or write at all for that matter. Although writing is refreshing and life-giving for me, I cannot figure out how to incorporate it in to my life... Ironic?
Truth is, that's just the beginning of my long list entitled "important things I am neglecting." I still cannot wrap my brain or being around working full-time and being mom, wife, woman, friend, etc. without feeling guilty and honestly, failure-ish.
And although I love my job, it's a job. A lot of my hours are spent there... my happy, energetic hours. My confession is that I am holding onto values of motherhood, wifehood, general good womanhood that don't work out with my current lifestyle, and so I am constantly questioning my value and purpose. This is not based on truth and I know it, but it's my issue right now. And, no one else is holding this arbitrary standard up against me but myself.
My job is meaningful, I definitely know that in theory - but like anything that occasionally runs toward the routine, I question the value of my time, my investment.
"Then the righteous will answer him, Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink...
The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"
On Friday I saw one of my second grade students for speech therapy who has had a rough go. His mom left when he was very young and has little to no contact with him or his brother by choice. She lives in another state. I haven't seen any parental representatives for this student at any school functions. He has some behavioral issues that are starting to rear their head.
The student I usually see along with him was absent, so he and I started our session with games working on his "TH" sound and then moving to working on clear articulation of 3-4 syllable words... My lessons this week were based on the wonderful book, How to Make an Apple Pie and see the World. Earlier in the week, he told me he had never tasted apple pie; so on Friday I was prepared.
I brought three kinds of apples for tasting and a small apple pie as well. A change came over that boy when I pulled them all out and began cutting into the apples. We talked about the apples, describing them, deciding which were our favorites, his eyes lit up and smiled at me the whole time - he loved all of them, granny smith, gala, red delicious - peel and all.
Then, I cut into the little, personal-size, store bought apple pie... He had a taste. "Is it ok if I have some more of dat?"
"I'll give you another piece. Well, you know what, you've already had lunch... you can finish it."
Great big smile - he decided he liked it.
I told him it was time to head back to class, and he stood up, looked me right in the eye, and said "well, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome, Buddy."
He walked halfway across the room toward the door and stopped, turned around... "Yeah, thanks, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome."
He is well-fed and loved by his busy dad. I think it was hunger, nonetheless that I had the sacred opportunity to fill and I feel blessed.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Truth is, that's just the beginning of my long list entitled "important things I am neglecting." I still cannot wrap my brain or being around working full-time and being mom, wife, woman, friend, etc. without feeling guilty and honestly, failure-ish.
And although I love my job, it's a job. A lot of my hours are spent there... my happy, energetic hours. My confession is that I am holding onto values of motherhood, wifehood, general good womanhood that don't work out with my current lifestyle, and so I am constantly questioning my value and purpose. This is not based on truth and I know it, but it's my issue right now. And, no one else is holding this arbitrary standard up against me but myself.
My job is meaningful, I definitely know that in theory - but like anything that occasionally runs toward the routine, I question the value of my time, my investment.
"Then the righteous will answer him, Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink...
The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"
On Friday I saw one of my second grade students for speech therapy who has had a rough go. His mom left when he was very young and has little to no contact with him or his brother by choice. She lives in another state. I haven't seen any parental representatives for this student at any school functions. He has some behavioral issues that are starting to rear their head.
The student I usually see along with him was absent, so he and I started our session with games working on his "TH" sound and then moving to working on clear articulation of 3-4 syllable words... My lessons this week were based on the wonderful book, How to Make an Apple Pie and see the World. Earlier in the week, he told me he had never tasted apple pie; so on Friday I was prepared.
I brought three kinds of apples for tasting and a small apple pie as well. A change came over that boy when I pulled them all out and began cutting into the apples. We talked about the apples, describing them, deciding which were our favorites, his eyes lit up and smiled at me the whole time - he loved all of them, granny smith, gala, red delicious - peel and all.
Then, I cut into the little, personal-size, store bought apple pie... He had a taste. "Is it ok if I have some more of dat?"
"I'll give you another piece. Well, you know what, you've already had lunch... you can finish it."
Great big smile - he decided he liked it.
I told him it was time to head back to class, and he stood up, looked me right in the eye, and said "well, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome, Buddy."
He walked halfway across the room toward the door and stopped, turned around... "Yeah, thanks, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome."
He is well-fed and loved by his busy dad. I think it was hunger, nonetheless that I had the sacred opportunity to fill and I feel blessed.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Odds and Ends
Now that most of us have the first week of school under our belts, I'd love to hear how it went for you - any great moments to share? or horrible moments you'd rather forget but know others will appreciate you sharing so they can commiserate? Comment here or on FB if you have a sec...
I started back two weeks ago, one full week before the students started back, and in the last two weeks...
-I took part in my first full blown Flash Mob, seriously. Yep - my first time EVER to learn dance choreography and then perform publicly.
Our fabulous principal informed us at a team building staff event the Friday before we officially started back that the entire staff of our school would be learning a dance to the song "Right Here, Right Now" to flash mob perform at Convocation on Monday morning in front of the staff of our whole district. I practiced at home about 47 times that weekend (not exactly known for my mad dancing skills) and pretty much had an amazing time with that whole thing. I'm pretty sure we were awesome.
-We went to a Ranger's Game (Greg, Abby, and I) the night of the FIRST day of school and didn't get to bed that night until midnight - a little nuts, but we were given great tickets with a season parking pass and sat 13 rows away from the batter. And we won while sitting next to obnoxious Red Sox fans which made it so very sweet.
-Greg and I went to an opening of a new show at Valley House Gallery and panicked when the only parking option was valet. We had two dollars between us (how much are you supposed to give those guys anyway? I NEVER opt for valet, partly because I don't mind walking, and partly because I NEVER have cash). The exhibit was inspiring, and we ran into another artist/sculptor, Micheal O'Keefe, who has been a big source of inspiration to Greg while we were there. Check out his work on the Valley House Gallery website; it is amazing... We had a great conversation with him, and then, it was time to go.
Greg wadded up our two bills as thickly and indiscriminately as possible and took off as fast as he could without running over one of those nice valet guys working in 100 degree heat after handing off our tip.
-I chopped my hair, which was fun and I like it, which is fortunate.
-Grace had a wonderful first week of second grade, and much to my surprise rattled off the morning routine to me on the way to her second day of school (a challenge to remember just about every day of first grade). "Wow, Grace. You really listened yesterday; I'm proud of you!"
"Mom, Mrs. Weir acted it out for us - that's why."
Of course - epiphany... Will be figuring out a way to incorporate a little more of that at home.
-And, so far we have incorporated the idea of sabbath as a family rhythm for two weeks. This is not Old Testament law-driven sabbath but sabbath as rest and replenishment. There is no way around crazy, hectic days in our stage of life, so we've decided to claim one day a week for only those things that refresh and inspire creativity and spiritual, physical, and relational replenishment. We've declared it a no tv or consumerism day and instead read, create art, write, play instruments, play games, exercise, have extended time to pray, enjoy listening to music, linger over a yummy meal planned by Greg (2 delicious meals so far), have friends over, and will some day get outside to enjoy creation...
You get the idea. I'm loving this so far, and although there are and will be challenges, with flexibility, it might work. Saturday is pretty crazy, because we try to fit all the weekend work into that day... But, sabbath makes the rest of the chaos tolerable, because you know it's coming.
I'm hoping we can keep it going...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I started back two weeks ago, one full week before the students started back, and in the last two weeks...
-I took part in my first full blown Flash Mob, seriously. Yep - my first time EVER to learn dance choreography and then perform publicly.
Our fabulous principal informed us at a team building staff event the Friday before we officially started back that the entire staff of our school would be learning a dance to the song "Right Here, Right Now" to flash mob perform at Convocation on Monday morning in front of the staff of our whole district. I practiced at home about 47 times that weekend (not exactly known for my mad dancing skills) and pretty much had an amazing time with that whole thing. I'm pretty sure we were awesome.
-We went to a Ranger's Game (Greg, Abby, and I) the night of the FIRST day of school and didn't get to bed that night until midnight - a little nuts, but we were given great tickets with a season parking pass and sat 13 rows away from the batter. And we won while sitting next to obnoxious Red Sox fans which made it so very sweet.
-Greg and I went to an opening of a new show at Valley House Gallery and panicked when the only parking option was valet. We had two dollars between us (how much are you supposed to give those guys anyway? I NEVER opt for valet, partly because I don't mind walking, and partly because I NEVER have cash). The exhibit was inspiring, and we ran into another artist/sculptor, Micheal O'Keefe, who has been a big source of inspiration to Greg while we were there. Check out his work on the Valley House Gallery website; it is amazing... We had a great conversation with him, and then, it was time to go.
Greg wadded up our two bills as thickly and indiscriminately as possible and took off as fast as he could without running over one of those nice valet guys working in 100 degree heat after handing off our tip.
-I chopped my hair, which was fun and I like it, which is fortunate.
-Grace had a wonderful first week of second grade, and much to my surprise rattled off the morning routine to me on the way to her second day of school (a challenge to remember just about every day of first grade). "Wow, Grace. You really listened yesterday; I'm proud of you!"
"Mom, Mrs. Weir acted it out for us - that's why."
Of course - epiphany... Will be figuring out a way to incorporate a little more of that at home.
-And, so far we have incorporated the idea of sabbath as a family rhythm for two weeks. This is not Old Testament law-driven sabbath but sabbath as rest and replenishment. There is no way around crazy, hectic days in our stage of life, so we've decided to claim one day a week for only those things that refresh and inspire creativity and spiritual, physical, and relational replenishment. We've declared it a no tv or consumerism day and instead read, create art, write, play instruments, play games, exercise, have extended time to pray, enjoy listening to music, linger over a yummy meal planned by Greg (2 delicious meals so far), have friends over, and will some day get outside to enjoy creation...
You get the idea. I'm loving this so far, and although there are and will be challenges, with flexibility, it might work. Saturday is pretty crazy, because we try to fit all the weekend work into that day... But, sabbath makes the rest of the chaos tolerable, because you know it's coming.
I'm hoping we can keep it going...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The Dinner Question
I start back to school on Monday, a week before the girls go back. It's been a great summer. I've loved having the opportunity to check back in as a mom, wife, daughter and daughter-in-law, sister, friend, granddaughter...
I'm working through the idea of incorporating healthy rhythm in my life as I head back into the full-time work week. Greg and I have had many discussions about the book Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton after she came to speak to our church leaders. I'll try to share updates as we experiment with this idea through trial and much error, I'm sure. I have to personally unpack it a little more before I even attempt to explain some of my thoughts, but I am hoping to get there.
On to dinner...
We had a wonderful time the other evening with some new friends, Stanley and Jenny, we've been wanting to get to know a little better. They turned out to be the type of people you feel like you've known for a long time once you have a real conversation with them (slight disclaimer: Jenny is a counselor, but she was not on the clock).
As I was talking with Jenny, the topic of my personal retreat came up. I had merely introduced the subject when she asked one of those perfect questions that you don't realize you've desperately been wanting someone to ask until you hear it.
"Kelly, what did God say to you that weekend?"
Now, sometimes people ask that question when they shouldn't and it freaks me out. But Jenny isn't like that, and she knew as clearly as I did that there was an answer to that question.
My eyes got a little misty as the surprising strength of that answer formulated itself into words:
"He said, not audibly but certainly, 'I'm so glad you are finally 'going there' with Me. I've been here in the quiet space where you couldn't go, always here even though you couldn't be here yet... And I knew that, so I've waited.'
And I knew with intense certainty that He never left or blinked or abandoned, but orchestrated within a Love that I cannot comprehend."
And I don't want to stop listening, but life is loud, so I'm thinking through that one.
I'm working through the idea of incorporating healthy rhythm in my life as I head back into the full-time work week. Greg and I have had many discussions about the book Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton after she came to speak to our church leaders. I'll try to share updates as we experiment with this idea through trial and much error, I'm sure. I have to personally unpack it a little more before I even attempt to explain some of my thoughts, but I am hoping to get there.
On to dinner...
We had a wonderful time the other evening with some new friends, Stanley and Jenny, we've been wanting to get to know a little better. They turned out to be the type of people you feel like you've known for a long time once you have a real conversation with them (slight disclaimer: Jenny is a counselor, but she was not on the clock).
As I was talking with Jenny, the topic of my personal retreat came up. I had merely introduced the subject when she asked one of those perfect questions that you don't realize you've desperately been wanting someone to ask until you hear it.
"Kelly, what did God say to you that weekend?"
Now, sometimes people ask that question when they shouldn't and it freaks me out. But Jenny isn't like that, and she knew as clearly as I did that there was an answer to that question.
My eyes got a little misty as the surprising strength of that answer formulated itself into words:
"He said, not audibly but certainly, 'I'm so glad you are finally 'going there' with Me. I've been here in the quiet space where you couldn't go, always here even though you couldn't be here yet... And I knew that, so I've waited.'
And I knew with intense certainty that He never left or blinked or abandoned, but orchestrated within a Love that I cannot comprehend."
And I don't want to stop listening, but life is loud, so I'm thinking through that one.
Friday, July 29, 2011
All By Myself... meets the end of the backstory
Yep, I went on a two night all by myself retreat to a beautiful hotel room that we cha-chinged on priceline for a P R E T T Y good deal. I know, I had never ever done that either - the two night personal retreat. I wasn't sure what I would think or what to expect.
It was wonderful.
I want to tell about it here partly because it was so wonderful and I would like to explain why you need one too, but also because in reviewing my last couple of years, this retreat hit on all of the important anything I would have to say... And I figured it might just wrap up the backstory once and for all.
This get-away was Greg's idea, and he wanted to make it happen before I head back into the full-time school year. Feeling a little unsure, I asked a few people for ideas on how to make the most of my time and then found myself furiously grabbing books, articles, my Bible, magazines, my notebook, etc. without wondering/pondering/questioning. As the time came to head out, I was ready...
I was unprepared, however, for what actually occurred on Friday night. I did not want to turn on the t.v. at all during the weekend, so I began the detox process once I reached my room. I started with my Southern Living Magazine that had JUST COME IN that afternoon about an hour before I left... awesome. I savored every page in the beautiful quiet. I felt inspiration dripping into my creative cognitive area (I don't know, it's just what I felt).
And then, it was just me in the silence looking out my beautiful window. For the first time in over two years, I felt that I was not alone while I was alone. I kept looking out my window as unexplained tears began falling more and more rapidly, coursing down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. For the first time, I talked with God about my last couple of years.
I told Him through now choking sobs how hard it was to go directly from the upheaval our family had been through to working full-time in a demanding and difficult job that required 13-14 hours a day and required me to speak in Spanish all day long. (I worked that first year as a Speech Therapy Assistant for a private Speech and Language Center that contracted out for home health services. I was only offered the job if I was willing to see all Spanish-speaking clients - which would have been great, if I was fluent in Spanish). During that time, my daughters were all going into their first full year of public school; I had previously home-schooled. It was a very difficult year for all of them, particularly Grace, who had a terrible kindergarten experience.
And I was absent... All year. Grace had an ear infection one week when I didn't know, so I just kept giving her tylenol and sudafed for symptoms and sending her to school. Finally on Friday I took her into the doctor to hear how extreme both ear infections were, and I almost broke down in the office. My job gave no days off and no vacation; I drove to areas 1 to 2 hours away from my house and children depending upon the time of day... I felt trapped and horrible. It paid the bills, but I was lonely driving around by myself all day; I became a spiritual and emotional zombie or wreck, depending on the day.
I told Him how that hurt my feelings.
I did not understand why God would have brought me to that place. Why would He have completely taken away my opportunity to do those things that I most value and put me in a place where due to the language barrier, I felt I had very little competence? Was He getting ready to just take me out of commission?
During that year, I was not in my right mind. I was situationally depressed, and I don't think Greg knew what to do with me. I spent many an evening sobbing in my walk-in closet.
I remember walking with Greg one evening when he said, "Kelly, what if God wants you to begin to understand the reality of His love for you? You have always come to situations with your hands full, ready to give and serve; but what if you need to see your value to Him, His overwhelming love for you with your hands empty, completely empty? What if you need to be satisfied with His love for you, even like that?"
I wanted to hit him very hard.
That option, if it was an option did not feel like love, but I never really told God that. Life was too raw for me to "go there" as I would say. I could not handle the surface of life, much less anything deeper...
In the midst of feeling like I was drowning and needing to be rescued, I read a book that was quite timely for me. It was the only book I read that year, and it's little. It's called The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. That book did not make me feel like I wanted to throw it against the wall like some false starts did that year. I felt starved for it. My biggest take-away that I still remember was that God, in His authority had not blinked and lost me. He had placed me exactly where I was for purposes beyond my understanding and he was asking me to trust Him.
I spent Saturday morning walking around the sculpture garden at Valley House Gallery -one of my favorite places.
After that epiphany, I started my day simply with, "God, You put me here; I need You to pull me through." I occasionally revisited my hubby's statements. After multiple frantic, unsuccessful attempts to find a new job that allowed for more flexibility and family time, it was just as I settled into this realm of trust that I found myself hired as a speech therapy assistant in a wonderful school district that was a 1/2 mile from my house in a whirlwind exchange started by a friend in our Lifegroup and clinched after my interview on the day Greg totalled the car I used for therapy... Really. But that's another story.
Of course, in hindsight, God was developing valuable skills and experience within me to prepare me for this new position (looking back, it was like being paid well to "go to school"), but I couldn't see that at the time. What I know is that my current job allows me to be essentially on the same schedule as my children, know completely what is going on in their schools (my therapy room was two doors down from Grace's first grade classroom last year), allows the girls to be in schools they love, lets me work with an amazing team of educators, do something I love, and speak my native language, and yeah - now I have vacation... I am amazed by it, actually.
I hadn't completely talked to God about that either. It ALL (good, bad, and ugly) came out on Friday night, and after about two hours of sobbing and talking to Him (and thinking "crap, I don't have benadryl or anything, I cannot breathe - how am I going to sleep?!), I came to a wonderful place of listening.
And that is essentially how I spent the rest of the beautiful weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. Perhaps more on that later.
I will tell you the next morning began with me singing in bed:
P.S. I found a miraculous surprise benadryl in my make-up bag right after I brushed my teeth on Friday night.
It was wonderful.
I want to tell about it here partly because it was so wonderful and I would like to explain why you need one too, but also because in reviewing my last couple of years, this retreat hit on all of the important anything I would have to say... And I figured it might just wrap up the backstory once and for all.
This get-away was Greg's idea, and he wanted to make it happen before I head back into the full-time school year. Feeling a little unsure, I asked a few people for ideas on how to make the most of my time and then found myself furiously grabbing books, articles, my Bible, magazines, my notebook, etc. without wondering/pondering/questioning. As the time came to head out, I was ready...
I was unprepared, however, for what actually occurred on Friday night. I did not want to turn on the t.v. at all during the weekend, so I began the detox process once I reached my room. I started with my Southern Living Magazine that had JUST COME IN that afternoon about an hour before I left... awesome. I savored every page in the beautiful quiet. I felt inspiration dripping into my creative cognitive area (I don't know, it's just what I felt).
And then, it was just me in the silence looking out my beautiful window. For the first time in over two years, I felt that I was not alone while I was alone. I kept looking out my window as unexplained tears began falling more and more rapidly, coursing down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. For the first time, I talked with God about my last couple of years.
I told Him through now choking sobs how hard it was to go directly from the upheaval our family had been through to working full-time in a demanding and difficult job that required 13-14 hours a day and required me to speak in Spanish all day long. (I worked that first year as a Speech Therapy Assistant for a private Speech and Language Center that contracted out for home health services. I was only offered the job if I was willing to see all Spanish-speaking clients - which would have been great, if I was fluent in Spanish). During that time, my daughters were all going into their first full year of public school; I had previously home-schooled. It was a very difficult year for all of them, particularly Grace, who had a terrible kindergarten experience.
And I was absent... All year. Grace had an ear infection one week when I didn't know, so I just kept giving her tylenol and sudafed for symptoms and sending her to school. Finally on Friday I took her into the doctor to hear how extreme both ear infections were, and I almost broke down in the office. My job gave no days off and no vacation; I drove to areas 1 to 2 hours away from my house and children depending upon the time of day... I felt trapped and horrible. It paid the bills, but I was lonely driving around by myself all day; I became a spiritual and emotional zombie or wreck, depending on the day.
I told Him how that hurt my feelings.
I did not understand why God would have brought me to that place. Why would He have completely taken away my opportunity to do those things that I most value and put me in a place where due to the language barrier, I felt I had very little competence? Was He getting ready to just take me out of commission?
During that year, I was not in my right mind. I was situationally depressed, and I don't think Greg knew what to do with me. I spent many an evening sobbing in my walk-in closet.
I remember walking with Greg one evening when he said, "Kelly, what if God wants you to begin to understand the reality of His love for you? You have always come to situations with your hands full, ready to give and serve; but what if you need to see your value to Him, His overwhelming love for you with your hands empty, completely empty? What if you need to be satisfied with His love for you, even like that?"
I wanted to hit him very hard.
That option, if it was an option did not feel like love, but I never really told God that. Life was too raw for me to "go there" as I would say. I could not handle the surface of life, much less anything deeper...
In the midst of feeling like I was drowning and needing to be rescued, I read a book that was quite timely for me. It was the only book I read that year, and it's little. It's called The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. That book did not make me feel like I wanted to throw it against the wall like some false starts did that year. I felt starved for it. My biggest take-away that I still remember was that God, in His authority had not blinked and lost me. He had placed me exactly where I was for purposes beyond my understanding and he was asking me to trust Him.
After that epiphany, I started my day simply with, "God, You put me here; I need You to pull me through." I occasionally revisited my hubby's statements. After multiple frantic, unsuccessful attempts to find a new job that allowed for more flexibility and family time, it was just as I settled into this realm of trust that I found myself hired as a speech therapy assistant in a wonderful school district that was a 1/2 mile from my house in a whirlwind exchange started by a friend in our Lifegroup and clinched after my interview on the day Greg totalled the car I used for therapy... Really. But that's another story.
Of course, in hindsight, God was developing valuable skills and experience within me to prepare me for this new position (looking back, it was like being paid well to "go to school"), but I couldn't see that at the time. What I know is that my current job allows me to be essentially on the same schedule as my children, know completely what is going on in their schools (my therapy room was two doors down from Grace's first grade classroom last year), allows the girls to be in schools they love, lets me work with an amazing team of educators, do something I love, and speak my native language, and yeah - now I have vacation... I am amazed by it, actually.
I hadn't completely talked to God about that either. It ALL (good, bad, and ugly) came out on Friday night, and after about two hours of sobbing and talking to Him (and thinking "crap, I don't have benadryl or anything, I cannot breathe - how am I going to sleep?!), I came to a wonderful place of listening.
And that is essentially how I spent the rest of the beautiful weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. Perhaps more on that later.
I will tell you the next morning began with me singing in bed:
Morning has broken Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!
Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!
Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!
P.S. I found a miraculous surprise benadryl in my make-up bag right after I brushed my teeth on Friday night.
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Back Story, Installment 3
A long time coming, I know.
This has been more difficult than I thought; I had to take a break. Trying again...
We arrived in Dallas and moved in with Brian and Melanie, unsure of any plan beyond. We were loved and nurtured while we frantically tried to formulate...
The next thing.
Greg asked to volunteer in the Arts ministry of Chase Oaks Church in Plano, because he needed to. Instead, they offered him a part-time position within the Arts. This was very part-time, so it didn't qualify as official family income, but it was a start and a place Greg needed to be. Our whole family needed this church and we loved being there (Grace too, once she got used to the size).
Greg put out feelers with everybody we knew... anything that paid? No real leads... Lots of conversations eventually lead to Greg and Brian partnering to start a coffee roasting business - Greg had already been hobby-roasting for years in our garage in Kansas, the coffee was excellent, there were amazing opportunities for a humanitarian focus...
Starting a new business is tricky (the sense of time and income-producing variables gets skewed in the vision stage), and although the business was slowly growing, reality began to sink in. Shortly after moving into our own home and beginning minor renovations (necessary in an angrily-lived in foreclosed-upon home), Greg and I realized I would need to find employment.
Um, marketable skills? Let's see... stay-home mom and then home-schooling mom for a total of 13 years. I think I gained lots of important skills during that time. How do I put those on a resume? Where do I send a resume?
No idea...
This has been more difficult than I thought; I had to take a break. Trying again...
We arrived in Dallas and moved in with Brian and Melanie, unsure of any plan beyond. We were loved and nurtured while we frantically tried to formulate...
The next thing.
Greg asked to volunteer in the Arts ministry of Chase Oaks Church in Plano, because he needed to. Instead, they offered him a part-time position within the Arts. This was very part-time, so it didn't qualify as official family income, but it was a start and a place Greg needed to be. Our whole family needed this church and we loved being there (Grace too, once she got used to the size).
Greg put out feelers with everybody we knew... anything that paid? No real leads... Lots of conversations eventually lead to Greg and Brian partnering to start a coffee roasting business - Greg had already been hobby-roasting for years in our garage in Kansas, the coffee was excellent, there were amazing opportunities for a humanitarian focus...
Starting a new business is tricky (the sense of time and income-producing variables gets skewed in the vision stage), and although the business was slowly growing, reality began to sink in. Shortly after moving into our own home and beginning minor renovations (necessary in an angrily-lived in foreclosed-upon home), Greg and I realized I would need to find employment.
Um, marketable skills? Let's see... stay-home mom and then home-schooling mom for a total of 13 years. I think I gained lots of important skills during that time. How do I put those on a resume? Where do I send a resume?
No idea...
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