Dousing a campfire

Anakin Skywalker turns to the dark side

Closing of the public pool for the season

Having to get out of bed on a chilly morning when  you’re all wrapped up in a comforter

Waking up 10 minutes before your alarm goes off

Ice cream falling off your cone onto the ground–includes gum and suckers too.

Stepping in a wet spot on the floor in  your socks

Waiting in line for an hour for face painting or a balloon animal and they close with the kid in line in front of you.

Craving a food at a certain restaurant and finding out they are out of it or don’t serve it anymore.

Ok, enough. What are some happy things? Or maybe you have a few sad things  I didn’t include. Enjoy!

I’m changing my mind on many things. Sue the hell out of fast food. Not because parents don’t have responsibility but because we have been groomed for 60 years to think its cheaper to eat crap. It worked for tobacco. We all have a personal responsibility for certain. It’d just be much easier if I didn’t have to battle corporate america’s foot on my neck every time I go through a check out line.

For instance. 4th of July. On the 4th, and not the 3rd and in no particular order, we’d see a parade, have a party at our house with awesome food and drink and the kids would play. Or maybe we’d go hang out at a local festival and listen to music, visit craft tables, eat corn dogs and have coke in a cup with ice, a lid and a straw–no cans. Then fireworks. We’d go to a park with 40,000 other people, put down our blankets and watch the professionals light off awesome fireworks–including ground displays of the American flag. The town employees would take up a collection through the crowd to help pay for the fireworks show. We’d battle traffic on the way home or gloat as we pull out of our friend’s driveway–the friend that lives 2 blocks from the park–and easily make it home. Then the kids would wash up, put on pjs and go to bed. They would fall asleep without screaming, crying and having to “duck and cover” under the sheets thanks to the neighborhood pyrotechnic amateurs. We’d all be happy. ER docs would be bored. No arrests would need to be made.

Don’t get me started about New Year’s Eve, Memorial and Labor Days, or Christmas. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go call the  police on the “over served” lighting off something a few houses down.

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Light bulb moment though was when Scott simply mentioned that for some people in that room, this might be the first time they heard or it truly resonated that God gives to them freely–not because the good list is a little longer than the bad list–because God is generous. So now my brain gets totally excited thinking that somewhere in that room, someone’s life needed a change and they were receiving it right now. Someone needed a change in their relationships, addictions, thoughts of self or pain and they were receiving it right now. Church, in that moment, stopped being about “wish my foot didn’t hurt” and started being about “pray that the ‘someone’ will yield an open heart to Jesus”.

My perspective about church has shifted dramatically over the last few years thanks to the Orchard. It’s not about me. It’s not about me. I have received an amazingly generous gift in the Gospel. Freely, I must be able to share this in word, deed or spirit and get excited that someone in that room will soon be telling a new story about their life. And that absolutely rocks!

Is it a government conspiracy that I can never remember my login information to pay the Sallie Mae bill online so I have to buy a stamp and send via U.S. mail?

Would it ever be possible to create an allergen-free grocery store strip mall so you wouldn’t have to drive everywhere for a decent price? You could have the wheat & gluten-free store next to the tree and peanut-free store next to the egg-free store next to the no-lacto-zone store next to the soy-free and fish-free stores all in the space of a supermarket but with separate entrances. Shoppers, what do you think?

Is there a cell phone you could give to your kids where the only texts they can send/receive are to/from the parents and the only numbers they can dial are the parents’ and 911? I suppose its called a walkie-talkie eh?

There’s GOT to be a way to provide library cards to low income township residents so their kids can bring books home. Many families are single parent households who may not be able to get to the library to read to the kids during library hours. Right now the cost is about $170 (in my area) per family per year payable in a lump sum. Somebody brainstorm with me. How does your library district handle unincorporated residents?

I was so proud of myself. I had the breakfast dishes cleaned up and food put away plus fed the dog BEFORE taking kids to school this morning. Feeling confident. I returned home to an empty container sitting on the floor, that used to hold a pan of cornbread from last nights dinner. Somehow, my dog knocked the closed tupperware container off the counter, wrestled the lid off(see my first statement about thumbs) and ate the entire pan of cornbread–about 10 pieces. Oddly, he left behind the napkin. The minute I saw that and gasped “Nooooooo!”, Champ immediately ducked his head and went right to his crate and laid down. Jerk. He must have been inspired by Denver’s appearance on Good Morning America yesterday.

While away from home, one of their pipes burst, flooding the house. Ironically, as Ty Pennington points out, the very thing they provide as relief to others around the world, provided devastation to their own home. When a massive earthquake struck Haiti last year, they made a conscious decision to put the repairs of their home on the back burner because the people of Haiti were in more desperate need. Even as they tour their home with Ty, the show’s designers and crew, they resist feelings of sadness over their situation because there are many of their friends living in tents of sheets or sticks, and have no access to water. They are thankful when they return from continued relief trips to Haiti, that they can live in a modest mobile home parked in their yard. A half bath in the main house provides the only actual plumbing in the home. I was struck at how Mr. Hurston’s demeanor energized as he described what his little plane could do. Its an old small workhorse  but it can land in small places and can bring water purifiers just about anywhere. His joy for his mission is inspiring. One wish? That the plane had more fuel range. Part of the home makeover extends to the airplane as well.

Watching this family is nothing less than spectacular. I crave to raise a family as concerned for others as theirs. Please watch this episode and check out Air Mobile. Oh. Did I forget to mention that Air Mobile is a faith based organization? It’s not mentioned in the show–whether by design of the family or of the editors who knows or cares? They always directed the focus to the people in need and what can be done. The Hurstons are an awesome example of the love of Christ.

God bless the Hurston family in their continuing mission, safe travels, and the growth of their influence.

“But God shows his anger from heaven against all sinful, wicked people who suppress the truth by their wickedness. They know the truth about God because he has made it obvious to them. For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God. – Romans 1:18-20 NLT

“If these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” Interesting. Have you ever noticed that our involuntary response to victory or pure joy is raising our arms and hands in the air? It’s a little hard to whoop and holler without raising your arms perhaps with a fist pump here or there. Why? Why is that such an automatic response? I wonder if this is our body’s instinctual way of worshipping the creator. Creation itself testifies to the power and nature of God. When the Pharisees tell Jesus to rebuke his disciples for praising him, Jesus basically says, “Even if I did tell them to stop, these stones would cry out in praise. You cannot stop it.”

Just something to ruminate over.

I just related on Facebook that my oldest daughter Maddie, made 2 Christmas lists tonight. One “For Maddie” the other “For Poor People”, as they were titled. She thought we could tell the community what poor people want so people could help. I received comments saying we’re doing such a great job parenting and what a great girl we have. Yet 10 minutes after that experience, I was once again yelling at her for defying me. Ignoring me as I’m talking to her. Not responding to questions. Just a blank stare. Yes it is true that out of the same mouth come blessing and cursing. (James 3:10)

That just weighed on my mind. I do have great kids but sometimes they take advantage of my inconsistency. While I’m in the midst of justifying our rules, considering compromise and becoming more frustrated, a thought(or a voice) blazes through my mind. “Why are you letting them do this to you?! You’re the parent. Get this situation under control!” At which point all the anger from those 3 phrases comes blasting out of my mouth. Its like touching a bruise. Or a memory. I’m sure I’ve felt this way before.

I hung on to this feeling for awhile to track it down. I wanted to find where it was coming from. An exercise I learned in psychotherapy a few years ago came to mind. When I would get these deeply painful emotions, my therapist would have me stop and think about the last time I felt the same emotion, and the time before that and so on until I couldn’t think of anymore. So, I tried the technique tonight. I journaled through incidents of my life where I’d been taken advantage of–a victim. There have been several. Some horrible, some not. The more I wrote, the more I felt. What did I believe about myself then? Powerless. Alone. Confused. Defenseless. And the more I felt, the more I wrote the truth of each incident. I stopped making excuses. Yes, I was the victim. Yes, I was wronged. No, I was not protected. No, there was no justice. No, there was no advocate. Boy was I getting pissed. And it felt great.

Here is the last portion of my journal:

So often the victim. Trained into it. Didn’t know I didn’t have to be. If I continue to live in the fear of fighting for myself or coming face to face with anger, opinion, contention, simple disagreement, then I run the risk of inviting my children into victim hell. They must stand up for themselves. Express themselves. Express their opinion even if it is solitary and misunderstood. They must speak out. They have a voice. They must be heard. They must not be afraid to sound silly or stupid or wrong. And may God Almighty be their amplifier and their guard.

The result of this exercise for me is that the memories don’t sting as much. Some I chalk up to learning a lesson. Others are mysteries and I will have to accept that for now I suppose. Hopefully, the next time the kids are playing me, I can respond as their parent, not their peer.

Tonight, obedience and kindness were optional in the minds of the children which resulted in stressful bedtime prep. On these kinds of nights, if I’m leading the prayers I really try not to make the prayer a sermon. “Dear God, forgive us for the awful way we treated each other. We know you want us to love each other and obey our parents…” And then I think how much I suck because I disobey God just like they disobey me. Drat. So its one massive confession for everyone. However on these bad days, I also like to throw in a bit about getting to start over tomorrow and thank God that every morning we start fresh. From the book of Lamentations, “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” – Lam 3:22-23. I can almost feel a little relief and attitude adjustment come over the kids(and me too). Their hearts seem lighter on the way to bed than when they came to prayer time, and we get a chance to slow down and restore some broken relationships.

A principle I want to sear into their hearts is that they are not to carry their shame. Sin done. Sin confessed. Sin forgiven. Move on. This is one of the things I get right as a mom. Lots of mess ups elsewhere but I never want them to wallow in their sin. Feel it? Yes. Mourn over it? Yes. But to wallow when Jesus suffered so much for our freedom is just insulting. It only took me about 39 years to get that figured out. I’d like them to use their time more wisely than I did.