looking harder

I am in the camp of people who have often thought about Lent, in terms of what I will deprive myself of.  Thankfully, I have progressed over the years to challenge myself a tad more than I once did.  Passing on the obvious, like no sweets or soda, and trying to go a bit deeper in my sacrifice.  But still....it has been about depravity.

An empty pitcher.

This year, as I was reflecting, studying, and praying about the soon-to-be-here Lent, I was given an idea or image that was very spirit-stirring.  I felt strongly prompted by the Holy Spirit to look deeper at this idea of depravity.

Instead of thinking about the loss and depravity of the worldly treats I would be offering up, I was prompted to think about how instead with that clutter gone---that noise---that clanking---that filter of worldliness, I would have more time, more room, more heart space for Christ.  I wouldn't be depriving myself in anyway.  I would be clearing the clutter for the good stuff.  The really, really good stuff.  How is that depravity?  More of Christ?  That is anything but depravity.

An over-flowing pitcher of living water.

Remember in The Lion King, when Rafiki takes Simba to the pond and tells Simba that he knows where his father is?  But as Simba looks into the water, he sees only his own image reflecting back at him.  Rafiki encourages him to "look harder" and then Simba sees his own image blur and blend to become that of his father.

That is what I am being called to this Lent....to 'look harder'.  To go beyond these worldly vices that make me who I am and look deeper into that image and see the reflection of Christ there.  To dump the junk to make room for the fresh flowing living water.  And in that living water, see my Father reflected in me.

So what about you?  Will you be joining me in this amazing journey---a journey not about what we are losing, but about what we are making room for?

No depravity here folks.  Just clarity.  

my sweet Olivia Mary

Odds are that if you have enough kids, eventually you will get one who is exactly like you.  Be careful what you wish for.  If that is true, I probably had mine first.  Because like it or not, good or not, my eldest seems to resemble his mom in all the wrong ways.  But this post isn't about him.  Or me.

If you are really fortunate.lucky.blessed, you will get one that is nothing like you.  You will get a child who is everything you want to be.

Today is the 12th birthday of my daughter, Olivia Mary.  She isn't perfect.  But she's a lot closer than I.

As a parent I like to think that I have so much wisdom to impart on my dear child's behalf.  So much instruction to share that will guide them down the path of knowledge and good choices.  I am sure that I have taught Olivia a thing or two---like how to brush your teeth and take a shower at the same time.  But what she has taught me is of far great significance.

She is patient.  Patient beyond anything I can comprehend.  Patient like:  people are pressing hard on her in every direction and she reacts with patience not anger.

She is calm.  Which, I believe, goes well with patient.  I wouldn't know, however, as I am neither.  She reacts slowly and with reservation.  She isn't swayed by what is or is not happening around her.

She is thoughtful.  Thoughtful, like..."I get that it must be challenging to do all that you do...how can I help?"  How rare is that?

She is forgiving.  Oh so forgiving.  Forgiving when forgiveness has not be sought.  Forgiving like, "You hurt me and I am scared to open myself back up to you, but I will forgive and believe the best about you."

She is nurturing.  She fulfills her role of big sister not as an obligation but as a pleasure.  Sure, if anyone tries her patience, calmness, thoughtfulness, and forgiveness---it most often is her siblings, but yet she loves on.  Not with a bunch of flowery-wordy statements, amounting to little---but with substance.  A book picked up and read to a little sister, a quick game of Battleship with a little brother, a 'spa' experience with a sister who longs to be just like her.

She cares, but doesn't.  She is so perfectly content being who she is.  She looks for the lonely and left-out, even when it means she will, herself, be left out of many 'circles'.  She doesn't worry about what others have or don't have, what they can or can't do.  She cares deeply about others, but doesn't let her 'care' become an excuse to change who she is as a person.  She isn't what a lot of other people are, and while she may sometimes wish that she was, she handles her own strengths and shortcomings with the grace of an angel.

No, she isn't perfect.  She rolls her eyes at us.  She likes to drag her feet about following simple instructions.  She doesn't make her bed every time we ask.  She isn't a very good bowler.  She doesn't always try her hardest.  Math isn't her forte.

She isn't perfect.  But I wouldn't want her any other way.

blame it on the rain....or lack or sun, at least

If someone were handing out absent-minded ninny awards, I think that I may get a gold medal.

There was a time in my life when my absent-mindedness tended to mean that I was pregnant.  Now before you get all giddy with the gossip of a sixth baby bump, let me reassure you from the deepest part of myself, that is not the case.

In my not so distant past, one of the strongest 'signs' of pregnancy with me, was my obliviousness.  And if it wasn't due to the influx of hormones raging through my body as a new life was forming, then I don't have an explanation.  Because typically, I am MANY shades of crazy, but absent-minded, not-so-much.

This week alone, I put sugar cookies in the oven with cutesy-tootsy little sprinkles on them, then left the house for 3 hours.  Do you have any idea what sugar cookies look like after baking for three hours?  Do you have any idea the relief I felt that my house didn't burn down?

I followed that up with this gem dandy.

I waltzed my littlest tot into the bathroom and readied a bath for her.  Of course I had to let the water run, as it takes a while to fill.  About 10 minutes later, after running up and down the stairs to the basement from loading laundry, I plopped down in my La-Z-Boy to relax.  And almost like I sat on a pin, I jumped up and bolted for the bathroom.  I found my almost 5 year old lounging in a tub that had reached the tippy-top of water levels.  All smiles was she!  As I cranked off the water I asked her, "Why in the world didn't you holler at mommy?"  She grinned through her bubbly-covered face, and said, "I love a full tub for a soak."

I am NOT pregnant, people.  So please tell me, what do you suppose is leading to my absent-mindedness?  I am going with a Vitamin D deficiency.

a message to my son

After sitting through a very tough basketball game, and I've sat through many tough ones before, I felt at a loss as to what I could say to my son, who obviously held himself completely to blame for the turnout.  I wanted to reassure him, but I knew his disappointment was coming from a very real place.  He didn't play well.  He expected so much more of himself.  And he knew that he let his teammates down.  I couldn't just say, "Well, everyone has a bad game."or "You'll get em next time."  It wouldn't fix anything.

I felt very helpless and sad for him.  So instead of saying much of anything, I relished in his desire to sit close to me and just soak up my love through osmosis.  Letting my unwavering faith in him slowly bring him peace.  Even if he had doubts about how his teammates or coach felt about his performance, he knew that I loved him the same.

It was after a night of sleep and prayer for him that I felt compelled to send him the following message on his iPod.  I am sharing this not because I wish to disclose every intimate detail of my life....but because I think this is a message many parents would want their son or daughter to know regarding sports or any extra-curricular activity.

"I know how great your disappointment is in yourself over the loss.  I don't have a 'fix-it' answer.  I know that it hurts when we slip short of what we expect of ourselves.  But you must remember, that even though you love basketball, it is just a game.  It is my prayer for you, that the disappointment you feel about your court-side short-comings pales in comparison to how you feel when you fall short in the game of life, which really isn't a game at all.  Hold yourself MORE accountable in how you treat others than how you play on a court.  The treasures you 'lay-up' in heaven are of far greater worth than the lay-ups on the basketball court.  I love you, Mom"

i am who i am.....but i could be better

I am the kind of gal that seems to question things, a lot.  I am the kind of kid that drives teachers crazy, in adult form.  The kind of employee that makes her boss go slightly mad.  I tend to believe that I can better follow the rules if I first understand the reasoning behind them.  And of course, many times I find there to be no good reason behind most rules.

This can be a very annoying trait.  Anyone close to me could attest.

I pray about this tendency regularly.  Because, well....questioning everything kind of goes against the whole concept of faith.  It hasn't been an overnight process, but I believe that I have come a LONG way in this area.  At least where true faith is concerned.

Of course I still question humans.  Because after all, they tend to screw things up regularly.  Present company not excluded.  

As I continually turn this questioning spirit over to God, I am blessed anew when He confirms in me the things that I have absolutely NO QUESTIONS about.  Of these things I am certain:

1.  Jesus died for me.

2.  My husband loves me beyond anything I deserve.

3.  I will never be perfect.

4.  Being a mom is unquestionably the greatest joy in my life.

5.  My curly hair was not meant to be straight.

6.  The church where I sit my sinful butt each week is the only place for me.

7.  I am capable of so much more than I expect of myself.

8.  God never disappoints me.

9.  Happiness is fleeting, joy is eternal.

10. I may be flawed and fragile but I am forgiven. 

I may never be good at just following directions without question.  Maybe God wants me that way.  Maybe He's using my character flaws to refine patience in others.