God and Santa and Christmas Lists

Yesterday, I was trying to get some Christmas shopping accomplished.  In my purse was a list separated by child and also lists for a few of the children, one had 4 little items, one covered the front and back of a piece of notebook paper and then I had one in between.  Three of the children did not write lists.

I texted and called the Husband multiple times.  The stuff on their lists was more of the same "stuff" already filling the basement, or it was junky or inappropriate or cost more than I could afford. ($400 Lego set, not happening.)  Two hours later I had purchased nothing.  

I was conflicted.  You see, I could buy them some of the items on their lists and they would be happy they got them for a little while.  On the other hand, I could buy them items not on their lists but that in my gut I know they would get more enjoyment or use from.  It was an internal argument and I was so afraid that they would be disappointed. (And who wants to see a disappointed (and obviously ungrateful) child on Christmas morning?) But, being their mom, I know what will have lasting value and what will be a flash in the pan or the piece of junk.  

I wanted to fulfill their lists as best I could because I love them, BUT (why yes, I did mean to put that in capital letters) sometimes what they will benefit from most and even enjoy most is not something they knew they wanted in the first place.  It's easy to get sucked in by great marketing ploys and what the world around them tells them they need and want.  

This morning I thought about how I pray very specific prayers sometimes and God does not answer...not the way I want him to, not with the answer I specifically requested.  Hello?!  The Bible tells us He will.  Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." (NIV).  That's all fine and dandy but sometimes God has a different plan and the desires of my heart are not His desires, at least not right now, and sooooo  the prayers seem to go unanswered.  

But they are not unanswered.  He says, "Not now," or "No," or "Not that way,"  He's not ignoring me or you or any of us.  

Last week I had some moments of feeling as though He had forgotten me.  I prayed with tears streaming down my cheeks, pleading and overwhelmed.  "Please, " I begged.  Now, usually when I pray I am not specific.  I am a "Your will be done" kind of pray-er, but I've been asking for something fairly specific for a long time and it's just not happening.  

Funny thing though, my "Please!" prayer got answered, quite beautifully.  That's the way God works.  He can fulfill His plan and we are taken care of, but we cannot always dictate the way it's going to happen (because I'm still waiting on that specific prayer. He's teaching me some patience, let me tell you!) 

These are opportunities to relax into my faith, to trust and to fully experience what it is to be taken care of, even when things are not going according to my plans.  

So, this morning I was reflecting on the Christmas lists and letters to Santa and how some of the boys' hearts desires will not be fulfilled.  I thought about the fact that just like the Husband and I have a plan for our children which they might not fully understand, God has one for me (and you) that we might not be fully on board for.  

May we all be aware of the ways in which prayers get answered in unexpected ways.  Sometimes we have to open our eyes to see the blessings and answers right in front of us.  I know I do. 

-Peace

There Are Seven...

Lately I've been going by the days of the week rather than the dates. ("There are seven days, there are seven days there are seven days in a week....")

This should tell you I am not planning more than 7 days ahead for anything.  (Okay, I know that Christmas is coming and I am horribly, terribly unprepared and avoiding it, but that is another story...)

I knew that yesterday was Tuesday, all day, except when I wanted to think it was Wednesday.  We spent the day getting the house passable for a sweet friend to come over and watch the younger kids so that we could go with the oldest son to a college interview in the evening. (She is a champ and didn't run screaming from the house when we got home so she has some serious babysitting chops, don't you think?!) 

As I sat in the coffee shop waiting for the interviewer to arrive, I noticed a holiday banner with a picture of cardinals on it. My stomach kind of clenched as I turned to the Husband and said, "Today is the thirteenth, isn't it?"  He and the son looked at me like I was mentally deficient and said, "Yes."  (Remember I'm going by the days of the week like a preschool song right now, "There are seven days, there are seven days in a week..." At least I remember to be in the right place on "Tuesday".)

And then the interviewer arrived and we all smiled and were polite...

The thirteenth was (is?) my mom's birthday.  Yesterday she would have turned 78.   The boy err man who was interviewing with a college alum was 15 months old when she died on the 16th of December.  I forgot the date, just like 19 years ago on the 11th of this month, the Husband asked me to marry him (and I told him to ask me again when he as serious, which was apparently immediately after I said that) and I remembered on the 12th what anniversary was the 11th.  

I remembered yesterday's date when I saw the cardinals and thought of my mom who loved cardinals.  (Why yes, I am living a stream of consciousness sort of life right now.)  

So there are seven days in a week and for right now, I am living in weekly increments.  It's not great for long range planning.  It's not great for things that I have to remember by a number rather than one of those days...But it is where I am right now, at this moment.  

I feel sort of badly that I was so focused on tasks that I forgot the date.  It's not that I forgot her, I just was busy with the life swirling around me.  Does that happen to you? 

Sometimes I feel like I spend my life "putting out fires" and not enough time living intentionally.  I do not love it.  I Try to keep my focus on the things that matter, but I do get wrapped up in the minutia sometimes.  

Any idea where I am going with this?  Come on..you must...  

I have seven days every week to make the most of the life that is right here in front of me.  Sometimes I might forget things.  Sometimes I might be flying by the seat of my pants.  Sometimes...the dates might get away from me.  I do my best.  (My best.)  

"There are seven days, there are seven days, there are seven days in a week..."  I will try to rejoice in each one...which is not always the easiest task (for me, anyway).  

Wishing you the time each day to remember what is most important.

-Peace

The Truth

Sometimes I get messages about this blog and people tell me how peaceful I sound.

I'm NOT!

The truth is, I want to reach out and touch people (not in a creepy way, more like those old telephone company ads, remember those?) and sometimes I hear that I do.  My heart sings to know that I have reached someone, made someone feel better or connected with them.

But the truth is...I am not at peace, I do not have all the answers and sometimes, sometimes I feel like a big fraud. 

Do I believe what I write here?  Absolutely. I believe in a loving, forgiving and grace-filled God.  I believe we can trust God.  I believe we do not ever walk alone. 

Err umm I believe that you don't ever walk alone. 

The truth is, often I feel like I've ticked God off in a major way and He has washed His hand of me. (Picture him wiping his hands together to brush off the crumbs of my messiness.)  I feel it in my heart when I am feeling unlovely and maybe a little bit like everyone else's life is working out and mine is not. so. much.  I feel the envy rotting my bones.  I feel the weight of poor decisions on my shoulders.  I feel... hopeless.

I don't think anyone else should feel this way. I think God is all merciful and loving.  It's just that...I don't understand why things haven't worked out. Clearly my sins, my poor decisions and my own messiness are far worse than yours.  Right?  Because I must have done something...

So when I write, imagine me trying to find the peace through my words.  When you read, know that I am trying to find my way.  I know the Truth, but I cannot always feel it.  I know He is with me, but sometimes I feel like I cannot find Him.  His footsteps are silent, His hands so gentle that I may not notice their embrace. 

At these times, I just know that somehow, someway He will get me through. And He will get you through, too. 

I believe it, but the truth is, sometimes I don't feel it. I pray that you always do. 

-Peace

Piles of (Mile)stones

One in diapers, one a senior in high school and four in between.

My life is all over the place, quite literally.

I like it but it is a bit like being on an emotional roller coaster all the time.  There is always something going on, and I don't mean games and art projects, I mean the emotional, spiritual stuff of life.  I guess that's part of having six blessings to love and care for.  There is always a milestone or 2 or 6 happening.  Those milestones add up to one emotional mommy.  And FYI, I am emotional to begin with.

So tonight, after an intense weekend of grad school (my peers have said they are emotionally fried too, so it's not just me), I went to the oldest boy's LAST holiday choral concert of his high school career.  What?!  I swear I was just telling the Husband there were two blue lines on the test at this time 18 years ago.  I swear, it was just yesterday he was saying, "Do you have any idea how much diapers cost?"  (Obviously he got over that. LOL)  And my mother was saying, to me, her three-months married daughter, "I thought you were going to wait."  And here I am the mom of a high school senior with college applications submitted.

And the mother of a 6th grader and a 5th grader and a 2nd grader and a 4 yo and a 1 yo...and I have a heart so overflowing with love and gratitude and ...fear.

Every stage and phase is new and different and each child goes through each phase differently too, because they are all uniquely and wonderfully made.  The Husband and I are constantly adjusting and muddling through, hoping we're giving each child what they need to be their best self...because they each need different stuff from us, at different times and in different ways.

The truth is...The older my kids get, and the less I can micro manage their lives, the scarier it gets for me.  You see, seeing them worry and hurt and struggle with anything hurts my heart.

I thought that having 6 kids, it wouldn't be so hard to say goodbye to the stages of my oldest.  News flash:  His last Holiday Choral Concert was a milestone, a last time to sing A Night of Silence.  A last time to see my son process in singing O Come, O Come Emmanuel  a Capella with the other men.  (Men?!)

And on the other end, Miss M is starting to show her spunky personality as she runs through the house doing her impersonation of a tornado, frequently half-dressed.

I can see where he's been and where each of them may or may not be going.  I can see that each phase has it's beauty and excitement and also it's tougher parts, too.

And then there are the balls I fear I've dropped, the ways I think I've let the oldest boy down or the others or the ways I will still fail them.  And my heart aches.  And I wonder, is part of the milestones learning that I will keep dropping the ball and letting them down and being an imperfect parent, no matter How. Hard. I. Try. ?

All of these things were running through my mind today as I watched and listened and experienced His. Last. Holiday. Choral. Festival.

These phases and stages are tough and tiring and scary.  I do not have all the answers.  I will drop the ball and I will let them down.  That's a fact of life.  Want to be a big liar?  Say you have all the answers.  I don't.  You don't.  No human does.  God, however, does.

So tonight after I had my little, "ball dropping, failing my kids" moment, I sat in that auditorium watching all of those teenagers singing and can you guess what I did?  I prayed for them.  Oh yes, I did.  And I just realized, as I prayed I dropped the ball so just now, I prayed for their parents.

Through all the phases and stages and piles of milestones, I can turn to God.  I can talk to friends and the Husband and always, always I can lean on God.  So. Can. You.  I can let the fear and worry take control or I can turn to the One who has the answers and the plan and can use anything at all for good.

That sounds much better than a heart full of fear facing this big pile of (mile)stones, don't you think?

-Peace and Love

Best

(Mercy Me- "The Little Drummer Boy")

Last night, I shared with you that I am supposed to be writing papers for school (still not finished, by the way, bad Stacey) and I was struggling.  

I have a confession.  I might be a wee bit of a perfectionist and I might over think things and perhaps my perfectionist tendencies sometimes impede my ability to begin or finish tasks which I feel may be....imperfect.  

The Husband has pointed out that I have modeled this particular trait so well that the oldest boy might be a wee bit of a perfectionist himself.  It is not something I am proud of. 

I wish to be proud of my work and what I produce but this morning as I was driving to MOPS listening to Mercy Me sing "The Little Drummer Boy" I got chill as I always do when they sing, "Shall I play for you? Mary looked at me and nodded, the ox and lamb kept time.  I played my drum for Him. I played my best for Christ. I played my best for Christ."  That lyric gives me goosebumps.  I played my best for Christ.

All at once I was convicted and freed.  You see, at first I started thinking about all the ways I fall short of best, all the things I don't do well enough.   I don't do them well enough in my eyes.  I am not the best at them. Convicted through my faults and failures and less-thans. 

 And then, I realized, God doesn't ask me to be the best He asks me to be my best.  Second confession of this post, I had tears in my eyes along with the goosebumps and the hair that was standing up on my neck.

That friends, is how I was freed.  Freedom to serve as only I am created to serve is doing my best.  

So whether you're writing papers for school or teaching, no matter what you're doing in your life, all you are asked to do, all you are called to do,  is your  best with the big things and the little things.  Whether you're rich or poor, playing a drum or bringing frankincense and myrrh, if you are bringing your  best, He will smile. 

So today, I will focus on doing my best, and bringing my best to all things.  

Praying you can relax into your best, too.  

-Peace and Love

So I Should Be Writing a Paper..

I have two papers due on Friday.  Two papers which are incomplete right now and which I am having an internal tantrum about doing.  I am struggling with certain logistical aspects of citing and I am just feeling...annoyed.

You see, I would much rather be writing here.  It's like talking to a friend or two when I post here.  I can choose my topic and as long as I'm not plagiarizing, do you care whether I use APA to cite?  Not really.  (And for the record APA is not my BFF).

So, I have been leaning on my friends through this ordeal, via crackbook FB and text, we have been chatting about the assignment, they have been offering words of support, suggestions and commiseration.  I am so thankful to have what Dr. Henry Cloud referred to as "monkeys", those friends you turn to for support.  Ever since we heard that at the Women of Faith- Imagine  event the women I went with and those who have heard the story talk about our monkeys with fondness and affection.

In fact, one of my friends posted "In Christ Alone" on the FB as a shout out to her monkeys and I find myself turning to it when I need to be reminded of all that He has done for me.  The verse that seems to catch my ears every time is: And as He stands in victory, sin's curse has lost it's grip on me.  For I am His and he is mine, bought with the precious blood of Christ.  


I need to remember sometimes that sin doesn't have the last word.  My bad decisions do not have the last word.  The last word comes from that sacrificial act so long ago which is the most amazing gift.

I remember standing in a conference room with thousands of other women at MOPS convention and hearing Travis Cottrell sing this song and feeling it in my heart and soul, feeling that gift.  It made me get goosebumps.  I am so thankful to be reminded by a monkey of this awesome experience and opportunity to worship together with so many other women.

So although I should be writing a paper, I am babbling to you about this gift which makes me smile, makes my heart sing and makes me just want to stand up and shout, "He loves YOU!"  As I keep telling a sweet friend, "You've got this and He's got you."  He's got you and me and all of us.  Amen!

And as a side note...don't you think I should be published and paid to write?   It would solve this "writing papers for grades" issue!

Praying you find the peace and joy and gifts of grace in your life, that you have friends that remind you (even unintentionally) of what an amazing God we have and that you know that you, yes you, are loved.

-Peace
(from the girl avoiding writing school-related papers)

It's So Beautiful

Those were the words 4 yo *I* used to describe the park today.

The sky was a roiling mass of gray clouds, the trees were bare, the landscape shades of brown and the ground a little bit (or a lot) on the muddy side.  

The Husband and I took advantage of the younger boys' conference day to hit the trail with all but the high schooler who was still trapped in those hallowed halls of learning.

I have to agree with *I*.  I thought it was beautiful.  Much like the song The Colors of My Life from Barnum,

The colors of my life, Are softer than a breeze.  The silver gray of eiderdown, the dappled green of trees.  The amber of a wheat field, the hazel of a seed, the crystal of a raindrop, are all I'll ever need.  Your reds are much too bold, in gold I find no worth.  I'll fill my days with sage and brown, the colors of the earth, and if from by my side my love should roam.  The colors of my life will shine a quiet light to lead him home.

It's true I love the starkness of late autumn, the crispness and even the shades of brown and gray.  The Husband doesn't get my love of this season he sees as one of death.  For me, this season signifies family togetherness, comfort food, crackling fires and calm.  It means knitting and baking, quiet nights at home and...a feeling of home. 

I loved walking through the woods today.  There is something refreshing about bundling up to see the world around me that makes me feel safe and content.  I loved watching *I* talking to the birds.  I enjoyed seeing the cardinals playing chase and thinking of how my mom loved cardinals.  I laughed at *N* running ahead like a bull in a china shop and then yelling at his brothers to be quiet because he wanted to see animals. lol. 

In the quiet of late autumn, I feel in tune with the world around me.  In the quiet, I can prepare my heart and soul and mind in this season of advent for the joyous celebration and gift that is to come.  Maybe that is why the death of autumn brings me introspection and not sadness...there's a baby due in a few weeks, a beautiful savior and I need to be quiet and get ready.

Yes, sweet *I*, it is beautiful.

-Peace