Aren't I punny. Or maybe I'm punchy because I'm tired.
Either way, I broke in my Mother's Day gift tonight. Want to guess what I got? A sewing machine. I have wanted one for a long time and this is the second time the Husband has bought me one. The first time was for Christmas in 2008, but I made him return it because I stink at accepting gifts and I said we couldn't afford it. (How gracious am I? Obviously, not very! What a horrible example for the kids. Not one of my glowing mother moments.)
Anyway...I decided my first project would be something super easy as the last time a sewing machine and I were on speaking terms, I was in eighth grade. I found instructions online for making cloth napkins and we need some new ones and it's all straight lines so a no-brainer. I went to the fabric store to buy fabric and while I came home without napkin making supplies, I have fabric and a pattern for a cutie patootie dress for Miss M.
I was disappointed that I hadn't found any fabric suitable, read cheap enough, for the napkins. Then this afternoon, my frugal self happened to notice some old tablecloths too small for our two-leaves-so-all-8-fit table on the shelf by the washer. I cut and pressed and pinned and then I set up my new toy and even read the manual...
In a little over an hour I sewed two whole napkins. Pathetic? You bet. The bobbin thread keeps getting tangled up and causing some issues. I am proud to report that while I did get a little frustrated every time I had to stop sewing my sort of straight lines and cut the thread and get it going again I did not have a hissy. I am going to have to google some troubleshooting tips because the manual wasn't helpful. I'm sure it's operator error and when I figure it out I will be able to make that dress. I am happy to report that working with the sewing machine is like riding a bike, except for the annoying bobbin issue.
I am so thankful the Husband was willing to buy me a gift at all with how I acted back when and equally thrilled to be nurturing a new skill. I don't have to be a pro to enjoy the process. I love trying new things, do you?
-Peace
Monday, May 16, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Risky Within Reason
*N* is 9 and allergic to just about everything except nuts and milk. Go figure. He has eczema, he gets allergy shiners, stuffy nose...the works. It's annoying for him and uncomfortable but not life-threatening.
Yesterday I performed the sacrificial act of sitting outside with him while he was playing. (My own allergies are making me want to claw my own eyes out which gives me much empathy for my guy.) He was gathering up dandelions and splitting the stems to "dissect" them. I was watching him so intently examining the plants, dandelion juice dripping off his fingers and I said, "You realize you're allergic to those, right?" He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah, just like everything else."
You might think I'm being a bad mom but he knows how he feels. He has not been clawing his own eyes out. Sneezing? Yes. But his eyes look a zillion times better than when he spends 10 minutes around a cat. (If he sits next to someone at school that has a cat he gets swollen, glassy eyes.)
*N* wants to experience the world. He loves to be outside. He has lots of energy. He is fascinated by science and nature. In order to keep him from allergies he would eat nothing but rice (and nuts and milk, I had this conversation with his pediatrician who felt it was unrealistic) and live in a sterile room. If it were life and death, we would do it. It is not. It is manageable.
It's not always possible to protect our kids from every discomfort. I wish I could. It's much easier to protect them from allergens that the poisoned words that other people speak at and about them. It is much easier to teach them to look both ways when crossing the street than to protect them from other people's distracted or impaired driving. I can provide them with the tools to cope. For allergies, he takes medicine. I tell him about his worth in God's eyes and mine to help counteract the negativity of others. I talk to the boys about not riding with a distracted driver and set the example myself.
We do what we can within reason but in all things I remember that God is walking alongside us. Thank goodness for that because as a very imperfect parent (letting her kid play with dandelions), I need Big back-up.
-Peace
Yesterday I performed the sacrificial act of sitting outside with him while he was playing. (My own allergies are making me want to claw my own eyes out which gives me much empathy for my guy.) He was gathering up dandelions and splitting the stems to "dissect" them. I was watching him so intently examining the plants, dandelion juice dripping off his fingers and I said, "You realize you're allergic to those, right?" He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah, just like everything else."
You might think I'm being a bad mom but he knows how he feels. He has not been clawing his own eyes out. Sneezing? Yes. But his eyes look a zillion times better than when he spends 10 minutes around a cat. (If he sits next to someone at school that has a cat he gets swollen, glassy eyes.)
*N* wants to experience the world. He loves to be outside. He has lots of energy. He is fascinated by science and nature. In order to keep him from allergies he would eat nothing but rice (and nuts and milk, I had this conversation with his pediatrician who felt it was unrealistic) and live in a sterile room. If it were life and death, we would do it. It is not. It is manageable.
It's not always possible to protect our kids from every discomfort. I wish I could. It's much easier to protect them from allergens that the poisoned words that other people speak at and about them. It is much easier to teach them to look both ways when crossing the street than to protect them from other people's distracted or impaired driving. I can provide them with the tools to cope. For allergies, he takes medicine. I tell him about his worth in God's eyes and mine to help counteract the negativity of others. I talk to the boys about not riding with a distracted driver and set the example myself.
We do what we can within reason but in all things I remember that God is walking alongside us. Thank goodness for that because as a very imperfect parent (letting her kid play with dandelions), I need Big back-up.
-Peace
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Fill 'Er Up
So I have been hit with a screaming case of insecurity. I wallowed in it. I thought about seeking out validation, overt and veiled. You see, I wrote about love languages last week and how I am not really sure mine is "Words of Affirmation", but I still really crave them. (More than chocolate! I know! Crazy right?!)
Today while I was in the shower I decided to pray about it. The shower is one of the few places I am alone these days so it is a great place for me to talk with God. (Not to mention it's always a great reminder or being washed in the water of Baptism.)
Two things came to me as I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair...
#1- It is none of my business what other people think of me. So whether someone thinks I'm capable or not, whether they like me or not, whatever it is they think of me, it's not any of my business. All I can do is the best I can do with the passion and talents given me for the task. Whatever they think of me is their opinion and while it might hurt my feelings, it is none of my business. Why speculate and imagine the worst? It's none of my business.
#2- The only One who can give me the affirmation I crave is God. I remembered what Lysa TerKeurst writes about in her book, Becoming More Than A Good Bible Study Girl. She writes that we go around with this cup looking for other people to fill it but that really the only One who can fill that empty place in our hearts is God. I have this half empty cup, because I'm a little bit pessimistic, that I carry around looking for people to fill with words of affirmation. I hear other people getting them, but they don't seem to be hitting my cup. I wonder, "Why her and not me?" (Refer back to #1.) ;)
In her book, Lysa writes, "The greatest thing we can do when we face feelings of insecurity is to "fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith" (Hebrews 12:2)."
So today I turned to God and I held out my cup and I said, God please fill me with your love so that I can go forward using the gifts you've blessed me with, free from the insecurity. The insecurity makes me want to run away, Lord, but I know that You have created me for this and when I focus on You and not on myself I no longer feel the urge to run.
Fill us up Lord, so we can be Your hands and feet.
-Peace
Monday, May 9, 2011
You Are More...
You are more and I don't mean more as in you've got some losing to do before swimsuit season.
A few weeks ago I heard You Are More by "Tenth Avenue North" on the radio and I knew I needed to look it up and hear it again so when I stopped at the red light I jotted the title down so I wouldn't forget before I got home. (I'm 40, it happens.)
You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade
Don't we all need to hear those words...and believe them? I know I do. I hear them and I say them and yet, sometimes...I don't remember they apply to me. I judge myself harshly, perhaps because there's a piece of me that judges others. I try not to but my heart isn't always as loving as it should be. And then I have one more thing to beat myself up about.
Being remade gives us an option to start fresh though. We can move beyond our choices and mistakes and problems. There still may be consequences, but we don't need to keep slogging through the muck, beating ourselves up. No matter what the consequences are, we have new opportunities to make different choices.
Our past does not need to define our future.
If you're driving down the road and you realize you've made a wrong turn, do you just keep driving because it's the direction you're heading even though it's not going to get you where you want to go? NO! You turn around (legally, please) and head in the proper direction. If you are lost you can consult your trusty GPS or ask for directions. In life you can consult a trusted friend, relative, pastor or counselor.
We are more than our choices and mistakes and problems. We are beautiful, amazing children of God. Don't let negative self-talk confine you to a path you don't want to be on.
I pray that we can each find our "right" path and move forward.
You are more...
-Peace
A few weeks ago I heard You Are More by "Tenth Avenue North" on the radio and I knew I needed to look it up and hear it again so when I stopped at the red light I jotted the title down so I wouldn't forget before I got home. (I'm 40, it happens.)
You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade
Don't we all need to hear those words...and believe them? I know I do. I hear them and I say them and yet, sometimes...I don't remember they apply to me. I judge myself harshly, perhaps because there's a piece of me that judges others. I try not to but my heart isn't always as loving as it should be. And then I have one more thing to beat myself up about.
Being remade gives us an option to start fresh though. We can move beyond our choices and mistakes and problems. There still may be consequences, but we don't need to keep slogging through the muck, beating ourselves up. No matter what the consequences are, we have new opportunities to make different choices.
Our past does not need to define our future.
If you're driving down the road and you realize you've made a wrong turn, do you just keep driving because it's the direction you're heading even though it's not going to get you where you want to go? NO! You turn around (legally, please) and head in the proper direction. If you are lost you can consult your trusty GPS or ask for directions. In life you can consult a trusted friend, relative, pastor or counselor.
We are more than our choices and mistakes and problems. We are beautiful, amazing children of God. Don't let negative self-talk confine you to a path you don't want to be on.
I pray that we can each find our "right" path and move forward.
You are more...
-Peace
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Speaking the Language
What language fills your love tank...or as the ladies at my MOPS group prefer, love bank?
Yesterday our Mentor Mom spoke about the The Five Love Languages from the book by Gary Chapman. I haveread skimmed the book before many times. The Husband is a big proponent of the book and I know his love language and I thought I knew mine.
But yesterday in the midst of the discussion I started to realize that maybe I didn't even know my own language. You see, I have always said that "Words of Affirmation" was my love language. I am insecure by nature so I need to hear those words. However, yesterday the niggling suspicion that perhaps I was mistaken got a little louder. You see, I hear the words and they take away some of my insecurity some of the time but I don't often believe or internalize the words. Instead I tend to discount the affirming words like they're deep-discount clearance items, but negative words or perceived attitudes, those get a huge mark-up.
I started to think and wonder and I even spoke with the Husband (he who says, "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.") and I resolved (I know, a resolution and it's not even December 31st!) to read the book and really pay attention this time. It won't be quick and I'm not setting a deadline. I am a student with required reading after all, but I am going to read for some new self-awareness.
I will chronicle my progress here. I'll share my thoughts along the way about myself and how I respond to others. (Because yes, it is all about me. ;) ) I think it will be interesting.
I did make one realization as I listened to our Mentor speak. I always felt like my father treated me a little like a fragile and helpless doll. He was always stepping in to do things for me. It used to frustrate me and make me feel he thought I was incompetent. Yesterday as I listened, my eyes filled with tears as I realized my dad's love language was "Acts of Service". Although he rarely said the words, "I love you," he showed them to me each and every day in ways large and small, I just couldn't see past my own ego to recognize he was motivated by love.
Gracious God, thank You for loving me in all times and places and languages. You are the only One who can fill my love bank all the way to overflowing. Help me to share love with others in the ways they need most by being attentive and aware. Lord, I pray that when people disappoint me by being human, I can be compassionate and forgiving as You give me compassion and forgiveness.
-Peace
Yesterday our Mentor Mom spoke about the The Five Love Languages from the book by Gary Chapman. I have
But yesterday in the midst of the discussion I started to realize that maybe I didn't even know my own language. You see, I have always said that "Words of Affirmation" was my love language. I am insecure by nature so I need to hear those words. However, yesterday the niggling suspicion that perhaps I was mistaken got a little louder. You see, I hear the words and they take away some of my insecurity some of the time but I don't often believe or internalize the words. Instead I tend to discount the affirming words like they're deep-discount clearance items, but negative words or perceived attitudes, those get a huge mark-up.
I started to think and wonder and I even spoke with the Husband (he who says, "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.") and I resolved (I know, a resolution and it's not even December 31st!) to read the book and really pay attention this time. It won't be quick and I'm not setting a deadline. I am a student with required reading after all, but I am going to read for some new self-awareness.
I will chronicle my progress here. I'll share my thoughts along the way about myself and how I respond to others. (Because yes, it is all about me. ;) ) I think it will be interesting.
I did make one realization as I listened to our Mentor speak. I always felt like my father treated me a little like a fragile and helpless doll. He was always stepping in to do things for me. It used to frustrate me and make me feel he thought I was incompetent. Yesterday as I listened, my eyes filled with tears as I realized my dad's love language was "Acts of Service". Although he rarely said the words, "I love you," he showed them to me each and every day in ways large and small, I just couldn't see past my own ego to recognize he was motivated by love.
Gracious God, thank You for loving me in all times and places and languages. You are the only One who can fill my love bank all the way to overflowing. Help me to share love with others in the ways they need most by being attentive and aware. Lord, I pray that when people disappoint me by being human, I can be compassionate and forgiving as You give me compassion and forgiveness.
-Peace
Monday, May 2, 2011
Bring Me..
Bring me joy, bring me peace, bring the chance to be free, bring me anything that brings You glory. From "Bring the Rain" by Mercy Me
I've been "hearing" this refrain in my head today. I think that I've mentioned before that songs really touch my heart and speak to my soul and this one does that.
It's been a big news day and it has polarized people in painful ways. I'm not here to say what's right. People respond how they respond and I cannot sit in judgement of them. I won't. I just keep coming back to this refrain...
Bring me joy. What brings me joy? It's noticing my blessings and being thankful for them. That is it in a nutshell. Sometimes the feelings of happiness and joy are wrapped up in a thing (like the joy I got when I looked at my pedicured tootsies a few weeks ago). But to be honest, that joy was more about the time spent with a friend building a relationship. I get joy when I give my kids things they like, but that is about seeing their excitement and to be honest, they get just as excited about a hike in the woods as they do a new video game. (I need to remember that more often.) The joy is in the time invested and the relationships The joy is in living in community and sharing my love with others.
Bring me peace.. What brings me peace? No, not the kind when I am home alone. True peace comes from knowing who I am and whose I am and that I am saved by grace through faith and not by works of the law. Honest. No kidding. The peace I find in that feeds right into....
Bring the chance to be free. That peace gives me freedom that is bigger than the Boogie Man. (Thanks Veggie Tales! ;) ) In that peace of knowing I also have a freedom to live and be what God called me to be, not because I have to be, but because I am gifted and uniquely made to be and do these things.
Bring me anything that brings You glory. There's the tricky part. I have peace and joy and freedom and in these things I am able to do what brings God glory and while I don't have to, it's part of what I am called to do as a child of God. It means I need to ask if what I'm doing actually brings God glory.
The next verse of this song is telling and it's really about responding in faith...And I know there'll be days when this life brings me pain, but if that's what it takes to praise you, Jesus bring the rain. This isn't about God bringing suffering, it's about being able to still walk as children of God in the midst of it. It's about responding in love even when you're angry. It's about leaning into God when it feels like all you want to do is shake your fists and kick somebody in the shins.
I don't feel better when I have a rant. Maybe it's because as a woman I've been socialized not to react in anger. (My mother was a ranter though, so...) I just never feel good afterward. I don't feel vindicated or justified. I feel...ashamed that I let bitterness get that much of a hold over my tongue and it happens more frequently than I care to admit.
It's not that it's unChristian to be angry. Emotions are good and healthy, it's what we do with them. The point is that when I let my anger get a hold of me, I cannot find joy or peace or freedom and without any of those things, glorifying God isn't so doable. I don't want to let my anger prevent me from fully experiencing a glorious God-given life, even if life can be not-so-perfect and often painful.
Lord, I ask you to bring us each joy and peace and freedom. I pray that in our own ways we bring You glory.
-Peace
I've been "hearing" this refrain in my head today. I think that I've mentioned before that songs really touch my heart and speak to my soul and this one does that.
It's been a big news day and it has polarized people in painful ways. I'm not here to say what's right. People respond how they respond and I cannot sit in judgement of them. I won't. I just keep coming back to this refrain...
Bring me joy. What brings me joy? It's noticing my blessings and being thankful for them. That is it in a nutshell. Sometimes the feelings of happiness and joy are wrapped up in a thing (like the joy I got when I looked at my pedicured tootsies a few weeks ago). But to be honest, that joy was more about the time spent with a friend building a relationship. I get joy when I give my kids things they like, but that is about seeing their excitement and to be honest, they get just as excited about a hike in the woods as they do a new video game. (I need to remember that more often.) The joy is in the time invested and the relationships The joy is in living in community and sharing my love with others.
Bring me peace.. What brings me peace? No, not the kind when I am home alone. True peace comes from knowing who I am and whose I am and that I am saved by grace through faith and not by works of the law. Honest. No kidding. The peace I find in that feeds right into....
Bring the chance to be free. That peace gives me freedom that is bigger than the Boogie Man. (Thanks Veggie Tales! ;) ) In that peace of knowing I also have a freedom to live and be what God called me to be, not because I have to be, but because I am gifted and uniquely made to be and do these things.
Bring me anything that brings You glory. There's the tricky part. I have peace and joy and freedom and in these things I am able to do what brings God glory and while I don't have to, it's part of what I am called to do as a child of God. It means I need to ask if what I'm doing actually brings God glory.
The next verse of this song is telling and it's really about responding in faith...And I know there'll be days when this life brings me pain, but if that's what it takes to praise you, Jesus bring the rain. This isn't about God bringing suffering, it's about being able to still walk as children of God in the midst of it. It's about responding in love even when you're angry. It's about leaning into God when it feels like all you want to do is shake your fists and kick somebody in the shins.
I don't feel better when I have a rant. Maybe it's because as a woman I've been socialized not to react in anger. (My mother was a ranter though, so...) I just never feel good afterward. I don't feel vindicated or justified. I feel...ashamed that I let bitterness get that much of a hold over my tongue and it happens more frequently than I care to admit.
It's not that it's unChristian to be angry. Emotions are good and healthy, it's what we do with them. The point is that when I let my anger get a hold of me, I cannot find joy or peace or freedom and without any of those things, glorifying God isn't so doable. I don't want to let my anger prevent me from fully experiencing a glorious God-given life, even if life can be not-so-perfect and often painful.
Lord, I ask you to bring us each joy and peace and freedom. I pray that in our own ways we bring You glory.
-Peace
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Respectable or Real?
Today in church our Pastor was telling a story about a Pastor whose daughter wanted to go to Uganda. The father was worried about her safety and it took two years for him to allow her to go and risk her safety even to do God's work. After seeing her on her way the father said, "I wanted her to be a respectable Christian not a real one."
Respectable or real? There is a difference isn't there? The sermon today was about being willing to die for Christ. Willing. To. Die. I don't know about where you live, but in my little corner of the world that isn't a literal thing much anymore. At least on the surface.
I'm sure there are opportunities to stand up and put ourselves in harms way to do what is right in God's eyes, but attending worship and identifying myself as a Christian isn't particularly dangerous here.
But, what is real and what is respectable? Sometimes doing the hard things, the things that make us stand out and be seen and heard are the things that identify us as real rather than respectable.
Unfortunately, I think I am more respectable than real. (Well, I try to be respectable. ;) ) I am uncomfortable about standing up and speaking out. The Husband used to joke that when he was speaking in church you'd find his wife under the pew. Not really, but... It's not that I don't want to be seen or have my voice heard, it's the fear of offending or being judged or *gasp* someone thinking I am wrong, even when I know I'm right. I am also uncomfortable with those I care about standing up and speaking out. I guess all those times my dad said, "Don't make waves!" stuck.
An off topic, when my dad heard that the Husband was going to seminary his only request was that we not become missionaries in an underdeveloped country. I'm fairly certain landing in Western New York would not have broken that requested promise.
So I try to be respectable but I need to be real. It's scary though, to stand out and be different and do the hard things. I don't do it often enough. I hide behind the quote attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi (though attribution is unproved), to "Preach the gospel always, when necessary use words." Yes, I hide behind it. I use it as a crutch and an excuse to not speak out. If I just behave in a respectable Christian manner, whatever that is, I am doing the right thing, right? Debatable, particularly since my motivation is to be safe and respectable.
I don't know if I can challenge myself to start speaking out. Maybe this blog is my speaking out, my voice and the manner in which I am meant to speak. This and raising my kids to do the right things within their sphere, to speak out appropriately, which they do, on occasion. Don't make waves, I tell them. Be sure to follow the rules even when you see something wrong because it could be on your permanent record! Would I have been the mom saying, "Don't you follow that Jesus guy, he's going to get arrested! What will people think?!" I truly hope not but...I will plead the Fifth and refuse to answer on the grounds that I could incriminate myself. God knows my heart though.
God knows and regardless of whether we're real or respectable or a little bit of both, God loves us and forgives us and in that grace we are saved. Thanks be to God.
-Peace
Respectable or real? There is a difference isn't there? The sermon today was about being willing to die for Christ. Willing. To. Die. I don't know about where you live, but in my little corner of the world that isn't a literal thing much anymore. At least on the surface.
I'm sure there are opportunities to stand up and put ourselves in harms way to do what is right in God's eyes, but attending worship and identifying myself as a Christian isn't particularly dangerous here.
But, what is real and what is respectable? Sometimes doing the hard things, the things that make us stand out and be seen and heard are the things that identify us as real rather than respectable.
Unfortunately, I think I am more respectable than real. (Well, I try to be respectable. ;) ) I am uncomfortable about standing up and speaking out. The Husband used to joke that when he was speaking in church you'd find his wife under the pew. Not really, but... It's not that I don't want to be seen or have my voice heard, it's the fear of offending or being judged or *gasp* someone thinking I am wrong, even when I know I'm right. I am also uncomfortable with those I care about standing up and speaking out. I guess all those times my dad said, "Don't make waves!" stuck.
An off topic, when my dad heard that the Husband was going to seminary his only request was that we not become missionaries in an underdeveloped country. I'm fairly certain landing in Western New York would not have broken that requested promise.
So I try to be respectable but I need to be real. It's scary though, to stand out and be different and do the hard things. I don't do it often enough. I hide behind the quote attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi (though attribution is unproved), to "Preach the gospel always, when necessary use words." Yes, I hide behind it. I use it as a crutch and an excuse to not speak out. If I just behave in a respectable Christian manner, whatever that is, I am doing the right thing, right? Debatable, particularly since my motivation is to be safe and respectable.
I don't know if I can challenge myself to start speaking out. Maybe this blog is my speaking out, my voice and the manner in which I am meant to speak. This and raising my kids to do the right things within their sphere, to speak out appropriately, which they do, on occasion. Don't make waves, I tell them. Be sure to follow the rules even when you see something wrong because it could be on your permanent record! Would I have been the mom saying, "Don't you follow that Jesus guy, he's going to get arrested! What will people think?!" I truly hope not but...I will plead the Fifth and refuse to answer on the grounds that I could incriminate myself. God knows my heart though.
God knows and regardless of whether we're real or respectable or a little bit of both, God loves us and forgives us and in that grace we are saved. Thanks be to God.
-Peace
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)