Pity, Party of One?

I caught myself throwing a little pity party for myself the other day...I didn't know I was planning one, much less attending, and suddenly BAM!  There I was, all pity-partying away by myself.  Funny how that happens.  

I am so grateful that I am getting well from this crazy kidney problem I'm having, and that I have so much help, that it really makes me feel guilty when I start feeling discouraged about things.  This is normal, I think.  At least I hope.

But you see -- here's where I'm coming from.  I'm a mama two very busy little boys.  I'm a wife.  I run our household.  I have many responsibilities!  And (mostly) I enjoy them.  When I became ill, I didn't realize how much I did...until I couldn't do anything.  It was quite humbling to have to ask for help.  And I had to ask for help.  I could barely walk across my house, much less wash dishes, do laundry, and most importantly, take care of my boys.

Praise God, I received the help I needed through dear friends and my amazing mother-in-law.

So why was I feeling sorry for myself?  Well, one side effect of steroids is a puffy face.  One day I couldn't figure out what was going on with my FACE.  Or rather, my eyes.  What are those things like a horizon?

Why, those are my CHEEKS.  I had become Mrs. Puffalumpacus.  (Just my own name for myself.)  I am looking down, over the horizon of my own cheeks!  And my glasses keep bumping into them. 

In addition to my puffy cheeks, my tummy started puffing out.  And my hands swelled up.  A double chin developed.  And if that wasn't bad enough...

...one day I looked in the mirror and I saw it.

THE 'STACHE.

Mustache, to be exact.  Yep, I've got facial hair.  Even some sweet sideburns to top off the deal.

Thank you, steroids.

Though maybe it's the steroids that are keeping me from losing all the hair on my head?  Hmmm...well, I'll try to get a photo of my hairy-ness.  So far nothing is turning up on camera.  Bryan says it's because it isn't really there.   But I tell you -- it's there.

Anyway, I was feeling sorry for me.  Poor me.  Can't take care of my home, my kids.  Got a puffy face, double chin.  Sportin' a 'stache and sideburns.

And then I remembered that I am ALIVE.

And that I am going to GET WELL.  Be HEALTHY again.

Eventually, I'll lose the facial hair, the puffiness.  I'll be able to take care of my home and my family again.

This is just a season.  I need to focus on each day, and see what God would have me learn during this season.  So even though it's difficult at times, we will get through it together, the Lord and me.

I waited patiently for the Lord;

And He inclined to me,

And heard my cry.

He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,

Out of the miry clay,

And set my feet upon a rock,

And established my steps.
He has put a new song in my mouth --

Praise to our God;

Many will see it and fear,

And will trust in the Lord.

Psalm 40:1-3

Tale of My Kidney Beans

I know that I haven’t posted in a while…okay, it’s been nearly four months!  I've had good reason, though (this time).  Well, the first month I was just “busy with life” – all the fall activities started up, our schedule changed, and of course writing fell off the priority list quickly. 

But then, very randomly, I became sick.  Not “cold” sick, but very ill.  It’s kind of a long story, but what I thought was starting out as some sort of infection, then maybe pregnancy (which it was NOT), turned out to be, of all things, kidney failure.  By October, I knew something was very wrong (I had extreme fatigue and nausea, among other things), and it took until nearly the end of October (and a hospital stay, including a biopsy of one of my kidneys) to get a diagnosis. 

So I've been recovering from an auto-immune kidney illness that is called ANCA Vasculitis, with a secondary diagnosis of IgA Nephropathy (another auto-immune illness).  I am not a medical person, and I have never had any kidney problems in my life, nor has anyone in my family, so I am still trying to make heads and tails of this thing.  So don’t ask me to try to explain it very well, because I can’t!  All I know is that for no particular reason, my body decided to attack my kidneys and shut them down.  By the time I made it into the hospital, my kidneys were only functioning at 12%.  It was crazy!  Here I am, a healthy 35-year-old, with failing kidneys.

Me and my Ben, just before I became ill.

But praise God!  I am going to get better, and I am getting better.  The treatment for this illness is daily oral doses of steroids (Prednisone) and chemotherapy (Cytoxan).  And of course I’m taking all kinds of other medications to help off-set the side effects of the steroids and chemo.  The medications are working, though – blood work last week showed that my kidney function is up to approximately 40%.  Also, the doctor believes I will make a full recovery, without any long-term damage to my kidneys.  He is calling this an “acute kidney injury”, versus a “chronic kidney disease.”  So that is comforting. 

Life has certainly changed in our house.  I didn't realize how much I did each day, until I couldn't do anything.  My sweet mother-in-law, Judy, came down from Montana on November 1^st to stay with us, and she is still here.  She said she’ll be with us until I am well.  Judy is my new hero.   She takes care of my boys and my house with as much care as if they are her own.  I know that she is enjoying this extended time with her grandsons, who she wouldn't normally have been able to spend so much time with.  (I know God has many “hidden” blessings in this!)  But she has already been over a month away from her own home, her husband and her life in Montana, and I know that must be difficult at times.  She never complains.  She smiles and says she wants to be here. 

Judy and the boys, on Mt. Lemmon

My church family has been amazing, too.  A dear girlfriend of mine arranged for meals for us, and for the past 5-6 weeks, we've had meals coming in four times a week.  It has been such a blessing to not have to worry about dinner.  Plus all the prayers, cards of encouragement, and support have been humbling and overwhelming. 

I've seen God’s hand of provision and blessing in all of this.  Oh don’t get me wrong, it kind of sucks to be sick like this – but to see everything being taken care of without me is a blessing I can’t describe well enough.  It helps me to be able to relax and get the rest I need, which is helping me to recover. 

No, I’m not getting much done these days.  There are some days where getting a shower and changing clothes is my big accomplishment.  Other days, it’s a trip to the store, or maybe even a dinner out.  Tonight, I made dinner for the first time in several weeks, and it felt so good!  (And I got so tired.)

 

I had to drop out of ministries at church and BSF for the time being, which was very difficult for me (though, being so ill, I couldn't do them anyway).  And for these things, it mostly had to do with the chemotherapy – they don’t want me working around children, and at church that is all that I do.  What a great time to under chemotherapy – right in the middle of cold and flu season!  Yay for suppressed immune systems!

In all of these unexpected changes and challenges, I am so grateful for the hope of a full recovery.  I am grateful that I do not have cancer, or a chronic kidney disease, or that I didn't need dialysis or a transplant – I am grateful that I will LIVE!!  That was one thing that was scary to me in the beginning – not knowing what was happening to me, and wondering how bad it really was.  I can handle this temporary “sabbatical” (as my husband jokingly called it), and I have learned to humbly accept the help that we greatly need. 

As my health improves, I hope to post more – I do have thoughts, events, and even stitching to share.  I am unable to do any stitching these days, but I did finish up a few things over the summer before I got sick.  Of course my boys provide endless hours of entertainment and challenges – they are such a joy.  I think ages three and five are (so far) the most fun. 

Their new favorite thing - riding bikes.

I have so much to be thankful for, and so much to get well for!!  And so much to praise God for.  

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

(Isaiah 41:10)

...what? why?

I have not been keeping up with this blog for the past few weeks, and for my two or so fans out there -- I apologize!  My brain is...fried.  I don't even have an infant to care for, like my dear friends Eileen...Kendra...Noelle...(who am I missing?)...I "just" have a two-year-old and a four-year-old.  So why am I still so very tired?  Oh, it's a different kind of tired than the I-was-up-every-two-hours-through-the-night kind of tired where you start to pour coffee into the baby's bottle and formula into your coffee cup.

But fatigue nonetheless.

More of the mental kind, because I'm constantly trying to figure out what in the world my adorable two-year-old is trying to tell me ("What is it you want?  Your Spiderman shoes?  No?  the sandals?")...

...and am constantly being bombarded by my four-year-old's ever-changing and persistent demands ("I want chocolate milk...can I have some crackers?...I don't want to go outside..." and my replies: "How do you ask?  Ben, you just now asked for milk, you have to wait a minute for the crackers...and how do you ask?  Ben, I didn't say you had to go outside, that was your idea...")

When the boys were tiny, two years ago when I had a two-month-old and a two-year-old, I looked forward to the time that would come, in two years' time, when I'd have a two-year-old and a four-year-old and things would be "easier." And those ever-wise fellow mommies who had children of those ages would smile a tired smile and say, "Well, you'll still be tired, it's just a different kind of tired."

Now I know what they meant.

That two years have come and gone, and I'm still just as frustrated and just as tired as I was then.  Just about different things.

Instead of nursing troubles with my younger child, I have communication troubles.

Instead of communication troubles with my older child, I have discipline troubles.

The troubles remain, they just changed.

And this troubled, tired mommy has not had time nor energy to blog.

But I've wanted to.  I've had tons of ideas as I lay in my bed at 11:00 p.m. wondering why in the world I stayed up so late again, working on yet another self-induced non-child-related project that I "had" to finish.

Why am I tired again?

Is the coffee ready yet?

Where is my Pumpkin Spice creamer?

Are there any Oreos left in the pantry?

Why can I not lose these last ten pounds?

Last I checked, I was 29 years old, 130 pounds, size 8.

Why am I now almost 35 years old, 140(-ish) pounds, and a size 12?

Whose children are these?


Why are they calling me "Mommy"?

When is their mother coming to get them?

Where did the last ten years go?

What did Bryan and I do before we had these beautiful boys?

I'll tell you what we did.

We slept.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd;
He gathers the lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart;

he gently leads those that have

young."

(Isaiah 40:11, NIV)

Knowing that  my Heavenly Father cares about parents of young children somehow makes everything better.  He knows our struggles.  He knows that we're tired.  He knows that we're frustrated.  He knows that we fiercely love our children even though we are so flawed and sinful that at times it doesn't show like it should.  And He's gently leading us.  He loves us, and He loves our children...He's carrying them close to His heart.

Sigh.  Oh, I could sleep so peacefully right now in this comforting knowledge.  

But I have a diaper to change.

So I go forth to do that menial task (which is greatly unappreciated by Sam, who would rather keep his poo, thank you very much) -- somehow buoyed up by this encouragement from my Lord -- though still a bit frustrated to deal with a struggling, stubborn Sam, but hopefully with more love and grace in my words and actions -- knowing that this is the ministry to which I've been called, for this season in my life.  

Why did we wait until our 30's to have children?  I think we'd have been much more energetic about it ten years ago, in our 20's.  I've heard you have more energy then, but I don't remember.    

"My soul finds rest in God alone;

my salvation comes from him.

He alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will never be

shaken."

(Psalm 62:1-2, NIV)

Taken just last week -- oh, we do love our handsome little guys!!

Service...it's not about ME

A couple of weeks ago was Communion Sunday at church.  For the past eight years, Bryan and I have served communion. It is only once a month, but every time we are about to go down the aisle, with the "bread" and "wine" in hand, I get nervous. What if I drop one of the trays? What if I fall face-first in the aisle? (our aisle slants downward as you approach the front of the church...and inevitably, I forget and wear my heeled shoes every time) What if there is a mix-up as we are passing things out and we end up with confusion? (This has happened before.) And every time, I just pray that everything goes well, that nothing we do is a distraction as people are trying to focus on Christ -- basically, that all goes smoothly. And usually it does. After eight years, Bryan and I are pretty good at reading one another's face as to what the other needs him/her to do across the long rows of pews.

This makes me think about serving God in general. We serve God in order to point people to Him (His Son, Jesus Christ), so that they will focus on Him and grow in relationship to Him. We are not to be self-focused -- a distraction to others, causing them to take their eyes off of Christ. So every Communion Sunday, I pray that mainly, we are not a distraction -- that no one notices us and that I am able to keep my balance on the slanty aisle, and that we communicate well (silently) so that we don't cause a distraction.

As a leader for a small group Bible study, I inevitably start worrying about my group of ladies. Will they like me? Will I sound like an idiot while I'm facilitating the group? I have to be continually reminded that it isn't about ME -- it's about God, and about the women drawing closer to Him as they learn about Him through His Word. If someone has a problem, it most likely has nothing at all to do with me...it is more about their relationship with God. My job as their leader is to point them to Christ, and to model Christ in my words, behavior...my life. (Which, of course, is not easy, since I am fallen and sinful...human, you know.)

So as you serve the Lord wherever He's placed you -- try to remember that it isn't about you. It's about Him -- bringing glory to Him. And don't worry about whether or not people will come to Him -- He'll bring them to Himself. It's our job to simply point them to Christ. What they do with that is their choice.

"For God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life. Therefore, he who rejects this instruction does not reject man but God, who gives you his Holy Spirit." (I Thessalonians 4:7-8)

"I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:20-21)

Serving in Weakness

As our fall/school year activities start up this week, both my husband and I resume serving in ministries that we love.  We had a nice summer break, but I think we're ready for some more structure to our lives!  However, starting back up is always daunting to me -- I think, "Can we really do it this year?  With all the responsibilities that we already have on our plate?"

Then He reminds me: "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness...'" (2 Corinthians 12:9)  I love these verses.  I always try to  "disqualify" myself from ministry.  My argument goes something like this:

"I can't lead a small group for Bible study...I lose my patience with my kids.  I can barely find the energy to finish the laundry.  I'm still recovering from post-partum depression, and my baby is TWO.  Years, that is.  Not months.  I need to lose at least 10 pounds and I don't have the motivation to DO anything about that.  How can I serve when I am such a mess?"

And what does this passage of Scripture (meaning, GOD) say to this argument?

Well, verse 9 of 2 Corinthians 12 continues with the apostle Paul saying: "...Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong." (that last sentence is verse 10)

So this crazy thing happens when I let God use little messed-up me.  His power rests on me.  (I am getting goosebumps.)  Yes, He works through me....in me....as He ministers to others through me (which still boggles my mind), He does a great work IN me, too.  He is ministering to ME.  It's wonderful...it's not easy, but it's wonderful.  There's a lot of faith involved, what I call a lot of "blind service."  "Blind" in that sometimes I feel as if I'm bumbling along in my ministries and I don't know if what I'm doing is any good or very effective -- but at least I know that I am being obedient to His calling on my life, whether or not I understand. 

And I learned a long time ago that when it comes to how God works, understanding isn't important.  Obedience is.

Bad Mommy Days

I haven’t posted in some days, mostly  because in the past several days, we traveled home from Wichita, have been settling back in, then I had Crop Club on Sunday...it’s been busy!  And during all of this I’ve had some bad “mommy days.”  Meaning, I’ve had days where I feel I continually fail as a parent.

There are days when my dear, sweet boys seem to demand more, to whine more, to want more than usual -- and all at the same time.  And on those days, my patience wears thin...thinner...thinnest. 

I wish my waistline would mimic my patience.  Or, even better -- that my patience would mimic my waistline!!  That would be even better.  I'd rather be a fat, patient mommy than a thin, impatient mommy.

Unfortunately, I feel that most of the time, I am just a fat, impatient mommy.  Worst of both worlds.

My poor boys. 

Yesterday morning, the boys went outside to play in the mud.  This is currently their favorite past-time.  However, the neighbors have some sort of standing water in their backyard -- we are not sure what it is, but we can smell it and we know it must be there, largely because of the mosquitos that are lurking everywhere.  I didn't realize this until they'd been outside for about five minutes already -- so I brought them back inside and got them sprayed down with bug repellant.  However, the damage had been done.  Especially on poor Sam.  He must taste sweeter to the mosquitos than Ben does, because he has nearly double the bites. 

In addition to mosquito bites, he has some type of trouble with his little bottom -- an itchy type of trouble.  So this morning, after a restless night of not much sleep (for anyone), he was squirming around with all the itches he had going on with his little body.  I applied calamine lotion to both boys' bites, cream to Sam's bottom, and we were waiting for it all to kick in and the itching to stop, cuddled up on the couch together, watching Curious George. 

Bryan had made a cup of coffee for me before he left for work, and had set it on the end table, away from the reach of the boys.  I'd had about two drinks of it, with all the chaos of itchiness going on around me.

Then it happened.  Sam.  Kicked. 

Somehow, that baby (he does have very long legs) managed to kick my coffee right over -- spilling it all over the end table, and of course (being nearly full -- since I'd only been able to have two drinks from it) it went down the table....down....down...to...our...carpet.  

It was not a fun time for us.  Mommy lost her patience.  Sam forgot he was itchy, because he was watching the Mommy Show of Crazy-Fast-Clean-Up and Frustrated-Ranting about kicky-kids-with-long-legs-spilling-coffee-who-wake-up-too-early.

I retreated to my bedroom to cool off, after I cleaned up the coffee, and made myself another cup.

But I felt so bad that I just sat in my room, idly watching the Today Show and letting my new cup of coffee go cold.  I felt I was the worst mother in the world.

Then...they came.  Both boys came creeping down the hall, knocking on the door, actually wanting to see me.  I couldn't believe it.  Why would they want to be around me?  But they did.  They still love me.  And I love them.  Fiercely. 

So we made up -- and now they are outside, lathered in bug repellant, gleefully making mud pies. 

Isn't there a quote, or maybe it's a Bible verse, somewhere out there about the love of a child?  I can't remember exactly what it is.   But the love of children is amazing.  It's nearly like the love of God -- unconditional, forgiving, merciful. 

I don't deserve it -- but I am grateful beyond measure for it.  There's something nearly healing in the love of children...nearly like that of the love of God. 

Humbling Times

I used to be sorta cool. 

Sorta.

Well, at least I used to have some dignity.

Earlier this week I took my little Sam with me to Target.  Well – I had no choice really…Bryan was at work, Ben was in preschool…anyway…I thought it sounded funny that I said that I took him with me, as if it were a deliberate thought – “Hey, I’ll take my almost-2-year-old-squirmy-wiggly-loud-baby with me to Target!  That sounds like FUN!”

Anyway.  I digress.

True to form, during our shopping trip, Sam filled his diaper.  With poop.  And true to form, I’d forgotten the diaper bag.  No, it wasn’t in the car.  It was at HOME.  And this was a BIG POOP.  Thankfully I was purchasing diapers anyway, and I keep a small pack of wipes in my purse.  I’m prepared like that.  (With a recently potty-trained 3-and-3/4-year-old, it greatly behooves me to keep wet wipes on hand at all times. Sometimes the TP in public restrooms just won’t do the job well on a curious little boy who wants “to see”…)

So we wrap up our shopping trip relatively well, and even met a nice lady from church in the check-out line (ha ha!  “Hello, glad you are way back there and cannot smell what is going on up here!”) – and make it out to the car just fine.  Thankfully we have a SUV with a large area in back where I can change diapers.  I have utilized this area more than a few times in the past four years, in various parking lots around town.  But does Sam want to wait patiently while Mama cleans the poop off his bottom?  Even if she gives him a monster truck toy to play with?  Nope.  He is a bit upset with me.  He doesn’t want his diaper changed – he’ll keep his poop, thank you very much.  He squirms…he wiggles…he protests greatly.  I empty one plastic bag of recently purchased products into another bag, and use that as the “poop bag.” 

I am quite used to the squirming – I have even changed poopy diapers with Sam standing up (see this post on my diapering abilities).  But this was really a bad poo.  And the wipes I had were not the kind that would pop out when you pull the one on top out – no no – they laid so flat that I could hardly find the next wipe in the package. 

By wipe #4, I’d gotten most of the mess, and went to drop it into the said “poop bag,” and then I felt it.  And then saw it.  Poop.  On. My. Finger. Now, since becoming a mother nearly four years ago, I have had my share of poo on my person.  I’ve been pooped on, puked on, and peed on (little baby boys are very good at baptizing their unsuspecting parents).  There is not a lot  that can gross me out.  But this little bit of poo really grossed me out.  There was something…unprocessed…in it.  

And Sam is meanwhile swinging his poopy little bottom around as I hold onto his ankles.  I have to leave the gross poo on my finger, try not to get it on the car or my clothes, and continue trying to clean off the swinging bottom.  And somewhere in this chaos I thought, “I used to be sorta cool.  Sorta.”  Now I’m wrestling an angry baby while changing his poopy diaper in the back of my car in the Target parking lot in 100-degree heat with what feels like 100% humidity. 

Sigh.  Deep breath.  Mental pep talk:

me:  “This too shall pass.” 
self:  “Someday he’ll grow up and leave home and I’ll be really, really sad and wish I were changing his diaper again.” 
me: “But not a poopy diaper.  No, I don’t think I’ll miss those.”
self: “Probably not.”

As I finish wrapping up the mess, cleaning my hands with disinfectant wipes (that I also keep handy in my purse – because I’m prepared like that) and getting Sam dressed again, the nice lady from church (with her four kids) arrive at their van, which is parked just a few spaces down from mine.  Well, if anyone would understand this situation, it would be her.  I just said, “We had a diaper change!” and she replied, “Oh I’ve been there!”  It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one, because at the moment I really felt like I was.

And then Sam and I got into the car and drove away, finally cooling off with the A/C.  I love A/C.  It is most essential in AZ.  I finally felt sorta cool.  Sorta.

But only in the temperature way.

Isaiah 40:11 – “He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

This verse always comes to mind during frustrating times like these.  Knowing that God is with me and leads me as I am trying to care for my “young” is so reassuring.  He’s with me even during the poopy diaper changes in hot parking lots.  There are times when being a mother feels like the lowest of low positions, with all the various clean-up duties of house and child.  Sometimes I’m the last one to eat, last one to shower, last one to sleep.  Yet God gently guides me as my loving Shepherd and gives me what I need to be the mother he needs me to be.  In His eyes, I don’t have to be “cool.”  I don’t have to be “cool” in my children’s eyes, either.  They don’t even know what that means.  They just need me to be there – with them.  And sometimes that means cleaning up their poo.  And that is okay. 

I was never very cool anyway.

Good Day

Well it’s a good thing that we lost our internet connection this evening, or I would never have uploaded the 100-some pictures that I took today.  I was just going to talk about how I’d taken so many pictures and was totally unmotivated to upload them so I could share, but since the internet was down, I realized there was nothing better to do!  So if this is posted on the blog – obviously we got our internet back.  There was a big rain-storm here this evening!  We saw it coming on as we left Texas Roadhouse and drove right into it coming home.  And for some reason, every time it rains here, we lose internet service.  And our phone line gets all crackly. 

Here are Bry and the boys outside Roadhouse...he had to take them out early because suddenly Sam was DONE being in the restaurant.  You can see the storm clouds back behind them:

 Here is the view we had coming home -- these are the Catalinas.  Beautiful!!

The boys and I had a fun day today.  Mama was in a little better mood than yesterday (though I’m not sure why, I didn’t get any more sleep than I did the night before) and I knew we needed to get out and do something fun.  So what do you do for fun in the summertime in Arizona?  You go to the mall!  We had lunch in the Food Court; Ben wanted orange chicken, which means Panda Express.  Then we played on the cars (the ones you put $$ in, except we don't :)) and in the play area....shopped a bit, went and looked at the water fountain (they love to see the water gushing), came home.  The boys were actually pretty well-behaved, and Ben was very obedient, even when he didn’t want to be.  So I was proud of him and happy to actually have had an enjoyable trip to the mall, for the first time in….oh, four years?  (How old is he now?)

As we were leaving the mall, we approach our car, and of course Ben is walking, and I’ve got the stroller with a sleeping Sam in it, our bags, my water bottle, soda, and the two sippy cups.  We’re traveling heavy.  And this dude in a sleek sports car pulls up behind me and decides that he’s going to WAIT for my spot!!  I thought, “Dude, you’ll be waiting for a while.”  I learned a long time ago to not let these people stress me out or make me hurry.  You cannot hurry a 3.5-year-old.  So as I get Ben in the car, then our bags, our many cups of beverages (because it IS summer here in AZ)…Dude starts to rev his engine.  I thought, “Really?”  I ignored him.  Ben noticed, of course – Mr. Observant.  “What’s that sound?”  So I tell him it’s the car’s engine, and then the Dude pulls away finally.  I get sleeping Sam in the car, and a few other miscellaneous items that have fallen out of my purse and the diaper bag into the stroller, and Dude comes back!  Now, I promise you, I did not have the most stellar parking spot.  There had to be others available that were either just as good or better.  But now I think Dude was on a mission.  So I get my stroller in the car, and finally myself in the car, and Dude keeps inching his car closer – as if that is going to hurry me up.  I was not trying to go slow – but when I’ve got two kids, many bags, a stroller, and it’s about 100 degrees with 80 percent humidity – I am not able to move quickly.  And Dude apparently has time on his hands, because he’s at the mall at 2:00 on a Wednesday afternoon in his sports car.

He didn't bother me a bit, though -- I found the entire situation amusing.  Reminds me of an article that a friend recently shared on FB, and then I shared it, and all my mommy friends were so happy.  Here is the link: http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/motherhood-is-a-calling-and-where-your-children-rank#.TicFhJ5AhTl.  Children are a low priority to most people -- and as a mother, I am not going to apologize for having my children out in public and for people having to "wait" on them.  We are always kind and friendly!  Anyway the article is about more than that -- read it, fellow mommy -- you'll be blessed.

Purification by Parenting

I've wanted to write so many times in the past several months and simply haven't made the time to sit down and do it. This title has been running through my head quite often -- as I daily struggle with my own selfishness and simultaneously attempt to keep up with my two boys -- I realize over and over (because I am continually forgetting) just how selfish I really am, and just how hard God is trying to root that out of me.

I never realized how self-centered I was until I became a mother, and especially a mother of two. Now there is even less time for me to do the things "I want to do" -- sleep, read, scrapbook, write, etc -- but what I know in my heart is that I am finally doing the things that I've been PURPOSED to do -- raise the children that God has given to me "as a gift from His hand." So my heart is joyful -- but the sin nature that resides within me is resistant to the changes. How thankful I am that God will never give up on me.

"being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6)

Another verse that I have written out and taped to my bathroom mirror is Romans 12:1:

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship."

When I think of how God never will give up on me, and in doing so, how much He "puts up" with me and my childish selfishness ("...in view of God's mercy...") -- it motivates, energizes, and fills me with the love I need in order to continue to care for my 2 young sons. He enables me to put aside my fatigue and my wants ("to offer your bodies as living sacrifices"). I can get through yet another poopy diaper, another frustrating and messy feeding to a picky 11-month-old, an umpteenth viewing of the same Thomas the Train movie...and not only does He give me the strength and the grace to "get through it" -- sometimes I actually enjoy it!! How can I "enjoy" another poopy diaper? Because "this is [my] spiritual act of worship". This is how God is calling me to serve Him today -- and what a privilege it is!!

Yes I'm exhausted...yes I would like to use the bathroom alone for once, or be able to apply make-up without having eyeliner pencils scattered all over the bathroom, or eat without having to inhale my food...but someday I'll have all the time in the world to do those things, and then I'll miss my boys and wish that they were there with me again. And hopefully I can serve them (and ultimately, my Lord) in such a way that will be a blessing to them, and I'll have been "holy and pleasing to God."

Praise God from Whom all Blessings Flow

This morning Benjamin and I enjoyed a "gourmet" breakfast together, sitting on the back patio. The weather has finally cooled off in Tucson, and we are outside as much as possible! Our lovely breakfast consisted of cinnamon coffee (or, "foccee", as Ben calls it) and cinnamon pop-tarts (otherwise known as "top-parts" in our house). Yes, I know it was not the most nutritious meal, but it's been my favorite since college, and Ben is certainly my boy - he loves it! He even dipped his pop-tarts in the coffee, just like Mommy does. It was such a special time. He is so talkative, and loves to tell me about everything around us -- "blue! chair!" (he was sitting in a little blue chair) -- "big! rock!" (he is obsessed with rocks) -- "foccee! hot!". Then we blew bubbles, or rather, Ben put the wand to his mouth and spit. It was so much fun!

We were able to enjoy our breakfast while Daddy was at Home Depot, buying new exterior doors for our home (since our current ones were kicked in, or attempted to be kicked in, by the burglars on Tuesday -- see previous blog). We have spent the past couple of days putting our home back together after the burglary, going through things to see what all is missing, working with the insurance company on a list of the losses. Yesterday morning we were feeling pretty good, as if we were getting a grip on the situation, processing what we'd lost (and what we hadn't lost!). Bryan even bought a new camera for me, the same kind as the one that had been stolen. He knew how upset I was about that, since I take pictures daily of my babies.

But what nearly ruined the day yesterday was that we realized that the burglars had taken our movies -- nearly all of them. We had most of our movies in one CD folder - at least 80 of them. These are movies we'd collected over the past 7-8 years. And we would not have cared so much about the loss of all those movies, except that we had also stored some precious home videos of Ben as a baby in the back of that binder. As Bryan put it, "It was like getting robbed all over again." We were crushed. Then we remembered that we'd made copies of those videos for our parents, so that made it a little easier to bear. But for me personally, it still hurts to think that someone out there has video of my baby, and though they more than likely will NOT watch it, it still bothers me. They will probably trash the videos, and that hurts too. There were many things taken from us that were valuable only to US, and knowing that the burglars will just throw those things away just pierces my heart.

But our day was NOT ruined yesterday, and of course we are not letting this burglary ruin our lives or any part of them. Benjamin is such a joy - he is mostly oblivious to the situation, and very excited about every little thing. Cars, blocks, rocks - you name it. This is one happy little boy. Bryan and I are praising God for him this weekend. We went out to dinner last night (another "gourmet" meal, this one at Arby's) - we needed to get out of the house after our disappointing day - and we had never had so much fun. Ben was excited about the cars driving by...he was excited about his chicken nuggets...he was excited that there was milk to drink...he pointed out Sam's hair, socks, and pacifier with great authority. We were laughing and so grateful to God that little Ben was unaware of our low spirits, and that he was able to raise them without even knowing it.

Bryan and I are so grateful for our family. We are realizing how blessed we are to have our sons and one another. We know that the things of this world will always pass away, but the things of God will not. We have been pointedly reminded of this fact during the past week! So once again, we rest our hope and peace in Him.

Can't Steal Our Fun!!

One of my worst fears came true yesterday afternoon...I arrived home from Bible study with my boys to find that our home had been burglarized. It was so scary to know that strangers had actually forced their way into our peaceful home, been inside of it, looked through our things and taken some of them. We never bother anyone, and we work hard for what we have, so I can't help but be angry on one level.

Yet on another level, I can't help but be thankful. Thankful that we were not home when the burglars were there, thankful that we didn't arrive home during the burglary, thankful that we were safe, thankful that our cat was safe, thankful that they didn't take any more than they did.

Strange things about this burglary...they took our new TV, our old DVD players, our new digital camera (but not our old one), one of Bryan's pistols (the one that I gave him brand-new just 4 years ago)...but they did NOT take our camcorder, our computer, our movies...they took most of my jewelry, which was valuable only to me...yet my wedding ring was sitting right in front of my jewelry box, and they didn't take that. PRAISE GOD! I had not been able to wear it yet since Sam was born, and had tried squeezing it on just this past Sunday, only to have to wrench it back off. (It is now squeezed back onto my finger...I can't bring myself to take it off!)

All of these things are just that...only THINGS. We are so thankful that worse damage was not done to our home, that it was relatively easy to clean up, and the boys were mostly oblivious to the whole incident. Of course Baby Sam, at 8 weeks old, knew nothing, but Ben thought the mess was great fun, though he did point at the wall where the TV used to be and say "black?" (which is what he called our black TV). One thing that makes me most angry is that Ben's favorite Baby Einstein DVD was in the DVD player, and of course that went with the DVD player. How dare they steal my baby's video?

So this morning was different from most other mornings. Instead of watching PBS Kids, we drew pictures. We normally do draw pictures, but later in the day. Ben wanted to see his Elmo. So Mommy drew him an Elmo, and he loved it! (after adding his own embellishments) He wanted to see his Dinosaur train show, so Mommy did her best to draw him a dinosaur. He thought it was the greatest dinosaur! He asked for his favorite "clown" video (the one that was stolen)...so Mommy drew him the clown. You must understand that I am a terrible artist. I cannot free-hand draw to save my life. But it was so fun that my little almost-2-year-old thought that my drawings were the greatest! We really had a special time together.

Then we went outside, which we would have done anyway, since the weather is so nice now, but I think we enjoyed it more today. Ben helped Mommy plant flowers, and insisted on wearing my green gardening gloves. He loves dirt, digging in it and flinging it around. Sam had a nice time just watching the trees blow in the wind.

So...those burglars can steal our stuff...but they cannot steal our fun!!

P.S. I don't think I even miss the television!

Hearts at Home Ministry

I want to take a day to write about a wonderful ministry that I've discovered called "Hearts at Home". It's a ministry specifically for mothers and I've been so encouraged by it. I found out about it while visiting my in-laws in Montana. A cousin of theirs loaned a book to me called "I'm Glad I'm a Mom" - her daughter-in-law had an article published in it. What a great book! It's written by moms, about different experiences they've had in motherhood, and it's encouraging, it's humorous, it's inspiring. Well in reading through this book while on vacation in Montana, I wrote down the author's name, Jill Savage, and the website for Hearts at Home. When we returned to Tucson, I looked her up on the internet and was amazed to find that a ministry exists that's just for mothers !! As a new mom, and a stay-at-home mom who has discovered that staying at home is much more difficult than I'd thought it would be, this was amazing. I immediately bought two of Jill's books, "My Heart's at Home" and "Professionalizing Motherhood."

Jill Savage began this ministry in 1994 in Illinois and it has grown immensely since then. It offers education and conferences for mothers - the mission statement of Hearts at Home sums it up: "Hearts at Home is a Christ-centered organization which encourages, educates, and equips women in the profession of motherhood. "

Please check out this wonderful ministry, especially those of my friends who are stay-at-home mommies!! This is just for you: http://www.hearts-at-home.org/.