Approximately a year ago, I sought professional counseling for my anxiety and depression for the first time. I'd like to see I reached some breakthrough and snapped out of my melancholy. Unfortunately, time and circumstances did not really allow that.
What counseling did was give me a safe place. For each session, I knew I had that time to myself, to say aloud whatever I wanted about how I felt, to cry, to yell, to sit and be listened to uninterrupted. It helped. In the middle of the beginning of yet another transitional stage in my life, it helped.
Counseling was one form of therapy, but I have sought other forms throughout the years. For a time, blogging was one. Then I decided it's not really safe to share my deepest, darkest secrets in the abyss of the internet. Before the internet, I journaled. I have several. When I struggled with post-partum depression, that is what my OB/Gyn recommended alongside medication, when the idea of coordinating counseling stressed me out. Yep, it did.
And then came running. Or walking. Both, really. Intentional setting aside of time for my physical and mental health. In addition to the physical benefits, the time to myself has been priceless. Whether it's been through our neighborhood, on a road, on the elliptical or treadmill at the gym, or my favorite, with my running buddy who met me for our first 5k and just completed her first marathon this Winter (while pregnant with TWINS, she's superwoman)... No matter where I am at, if I want to fit it in, I can.
Here are some reasons I love running:
1) It doesn't require special equipment, other than good shoes. Oh, there are tons of gadgets and apps, but really... you don't even have to have a watch if you don't want one.
2) It comes naturally,. Well that's not quite true. I remember posting to Facebook that running 1/2 mile was harder than delivering a child without an epidural. And in all honesty, I still run intervals. My asthma and my joints require that I take walk breaks, and I prefer not to injure myself. So far, so good. I have two legs, it doesn't require extra special coordination. I don't even have to run in a straight line. I also have fairly long legs, at 5' 7", and my stride is long to begin with, which does help. But the more I train, the more I find that I want to press toward that next goal. Once I hit the 5k mark, I wanted to try a 10k. Now I am aiming for a half marathon. Lord know I never imagined that for myself. I doubt I will want to do a full marathon, but I have learned to never say never.
3) It challenges me. I am not a great goal setter. When I was a teacher, I was more of the creative thinker/absent minded professor. In a world where assessments and deadlines prevail, it's no wonder I did not last very long in that profession. Lesson planning is my weakness. However, with running, if I want to improve, I need a plan. I am a procrastinator, but in order to succeed injury free with more difficult goals, I HAVE to take it step by step.
4) It's given me community. I remember sitting in my Bible study small group hearing friends talk about their training and upcoming races and thinking, "I could never do that." Those friends became cheerleaders. Other friends who run cheer me on, and I cheer them on, as we pursue our individual goals. While my own success or failure does not directly impact others (unless I do a relay), the encouragement we glean from each other is significant. On race day, that smile from a stranger, encouraging word, or even sarcastic joke may be just what I need to keep going or push farther.
Online forums through MRTT (Moms Run This Town) offer encouragement and opportunities to meet for training runs or meet in person at local races. Even though I live an hour from the nearest chapter, that online support has kept me from quitting since my move to a new state.
5) It lowers my blood sugar. It doesn't mean I can eat whatever I want, but it does make me feel less guilty for over-indulging. Sometimes. I don't want to know what my A1C would be without consistent exercise.
6) It offers solitude and reflection. I am not a gym rat. I use the gym because I have to until I get acclimated to the Northern climate, and they have child care so I can run without pushing my 3 year old in his stroller at least a couple of times a week. In all honesty, our local gym is a little awkward for me. I am one of the few patrons under 50 because most women my age work outside the home during the times I go, unlike the suburban South where there were lots of stay at home moms. My favorite runs our outside, on a street or trail, where I can use landmarks to set that next goal and get my vitamin D therapy. When I ran with a buddy, sometimes we talked, which was often therapeutic and I do miss, but when I run alone it's me, my thoughts, the wind, and God. Outdoor running or walking is by far my favorite.
Right now, I would rather carve out time for this kind of therapy than any other. It helps.
Showing posts with label ponderings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ponderings. Show all posts
Friday, April 08, 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Friday, November 05, 2010
pardon me while i type one handed. my son is snuggled against my tummy, and i'm holding him a bit tighter tonight. i've heard the saying that goes something like, "having a child is like letting your heart walk around outside your body." i thought i knew what that meant the day my daughter was born. then, when she had her first bout of dehydration and daddy took her to the e.r. while i stayed home with baby brother. i thought i knew that saying's meaning then, too.
of course, there are times when they are so happy that my heart wells up with pride and joy for them. but today i experienced the terror of worrying about my baby on a new level.
the kids had been angels when we went the voting poll, and they were pretty good when we went to lunch at a local restaurant on the square. (little man was so filled up on pretzels and goldfish that he was not hungry, but he did not have any fits, so that qualifies as a success in my book.)
just before two o'clock we pulled into the apartment complex, checked the mail, and instead of parking and going inside for naptime, i decided to go to the playground for a few minutes.
i thought b was just behind me when i turned around to look at something that caught my eye. the reality was that he was straight on sissy's tail as she made her way to the monkey bars. at the top of a four foot high platform...
*****
11 pm 11/2: Both kiddos are in bed sound asleep.
As I remember... as I said, I had turned around for a second, thinking B was running near me. THUD. cry. "Oh, S***!!!!! God, no!" My heart raced as I ran toward my baby boy, who was face down under the monkey bars. Scared to pick him up, but dying to at the same time, I rolled him over to lay him flat. He looked at me, but his stare was rather blank. I noticed scrapes on the side of his forehead and above his cheekbone, but the bleeding was minimal. He closed his eyes. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. Their staff was superb, staying on the line with me, helping me calm down. The 20 seconds or so his eyes were closed seemed like an eternity, but when he opened them he reached up and hugged my neck tightly. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but was still worried. 911 lady kept talking to me as we waited for the ambulance, H stayed close, asking if her baby brother was ok but also somehow staying really, really calm and collected while Mommy went back and forth from near hysterics to deep breaths and hopefulness. A little 6 year old boy had come over from his apartment to play and matter of factly told me that he fell off a play gym once. (His mom was on her patio across the parking lot and she came over to see what was going on, too.) We heard the ambulance near, they pulled up on the other side of the park area and H ran over to show them where we were. The 3 EMT's/Firefighters came over, immediately began checking B's vitals and asked what happened. At that point, B was sitting in my lap facing out, eyes open but very quiet. He kept blinking as though he would fall asleep, and he was getting less responsive. When they first arrived, there was a possibility that I could drive him to the county hospital with a pediatric unit 20 minutes away, but we quickly determined he needed to go to the Children's Hospital of Atlanta for care. So one of the EMT's grabbed H's car seat out of our car (which was next to the play ground, thank God, as we had driven there in stead of parking and walking over from our building). B's vitals remained strong, but he kept falling asleep, and it wasn't long before he would not open his eyes when tickled. Of course, it was also his nap time, and the EMT tried to encourage me to be hopeful since I had told him that B was a heavy sleeper. However, I knew this was not my little bouncing baby boy's normal behavior. And it terrified me. He remained basically unresponsive, or extremely limited in his responses, for the next 2 hours or so.
In the ambulance, Big Sis sat in her car seat and observed, mostly. I had tried to call 2 local friends, and succeeded in texting one to share the news, but there just wasn't time to leave big sis anywhere. And with Daddy out of state, I also felt like she needed to be with us. She thought it was cool that we were flying past all the other vehicles on the highway. The EMT's and I kept trying to awaken him, but his sleep seemed to grow deeper... until they stuck him to give him an IV port just in case. Then he whimpered a little and said "ouch." While I hated to see him hurt, I knew that at least he was feeling things.
The rest of the evening is a blur. Hospital staff took H to another room to color and do some crafts, B had already been assigned a tag bracelet, and he was whisked into triage, followed shortly by a CT scan of the head and a x-ray of the c-spine. This is where Hope crept in. My boy began to come back to me. In the CT room, a projector displayed a rotating sea-life scene on the ceiling above the table. "Look, mama. Fish. Water." He pointed to the ceiling. He was laying still. The only time my 2 year old boy lays that still is when he sleeps. When we moved down the hall to X-ray, he saw pumpkin and cat decals on the ceiling and identified them. I explained to him that a big camera was going to take his picture, and asked him to look at the camera and say "cheese." He kept talking about the pumpkin, the cat, and the camera. For this scan, they even had to repeat a lateral film because he had moved his head while I helped hold his arms down flat.
His improvement continued while we waited in his ER room. He laid flat far longer than I had expected him to, but soon, he began rolling around. He was wearing a neck brace as a precaution, and it was not very long until he sat up. Shortly after that, Aunt Sara arrived, having survived rush hour traffic in Atlanta. Oh, how grateful I am for her tonight.
The nurses came in periodically to check his vitals, and he became increasingly more normal. His movement set of the equipment alarms. He pretended the TV remote was a telephone and called the nurses station for help by pressing the button as he talked on his "phone." He sang "the wheels on the bus go round and round." While he likes that song, I can't help but wonder if it because he knew he was in an ambulance (because we told him so) or rolling down the hall on a cot.
Finally, the doctor came in and authorized his release as his test were fine, and not a moment to soon. He showed her how he could stand on his bed and step up onto the railing while he hugged mommy's neck... with all his wires still attached.
As we drove home and the sky darkened, he sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" from his cousin's car seat. Big Sis fell asleep pretty quickly, but in the parking garage she told Aunt Sara that she did not like it when her brother got hurt.
(Thank God for babies in the family! We did not grab his car seat when we took Sissy's.) As we waited in the drive through at Chik-fil-A, he exclaimed "chicken!" And of course, when we pulled into our complex, he asked for the playground. I asked him if the playground was fun or scary. "Fun." But at one point I think he also said "Playground hurt."
As the evening progressed, we ate our dinner, watched a movie, and he began to play with the teddy bear he was given at the hospital (while at the hospital he was not really interested in it.) He wanted me to put his neck brace (yeah, I kept it) on the bear, along with the disposable pressure cuff the nurse had put on it. Then he told the bear to "wake up!" just like we had been telling him in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, when he had that glassy eyed look on his face (if his eyes were open at all).
He set his teddy bear on his pillow, then climbed into bed next to it.
Later, as I tucked Big Sis into bed and sang "You are my sunshine" as one of her lullabies, she changed the lyrics to "please don't take my brother away." My strong, brave girl did so well through this ordeal, too.
Sara's here with me tonight, I am so glad for the company. Daddy will be home on Friday as planned, since the test results were ok and our little man is already back to his old self.
****
Thank you to everyone who heard the news through the grapevine and prayed for us today. Four feet is a really long fall for a 2 year old, and Someone must have heard and softened his fall.
*****
23.5 hours later
11/3/10
My boy is in my lap again, chattering away, pretending a mini slinky is a camera and saying, "cheese." A few minutes ago, he and H were racing hobby horses around the apartment, and before that he was twirling in circles, throwing himself on the ground laughing and exclaiming, "hurt! mama! hurt" But then repeating the cycle. This is completely normal play for him.
God is so good!
of course, there are times when they are so happy that my heart wells up with pride and joy for them. but today i experienced the terror of worrying about my baby on a new level.
the kids had been angels when we went the voting poll, and they were pretty good when we went to lunch at a local restaurant on the square. (little man was so filled up on pretzels and goldfish that he was not hungry, but he did not have any fits, so that qualifies as a success in my book.)
just before two o'clock we pulled into the apartment complex, checked the mail, and instead of parking and going inside for naptime, i decided to go to the playground for a few minutes.
i thought b was just behind me when i turned around to look at something that caught my eye. the reality was that he was straight on sissy's tail as she made her way to the monkey bars. at the top of a four foot high platform...
*****
11 pm 11/2: Both kiddos are in bed sound asleep.
As I remember... as I said, I had turned around for a second, thinking B was running near me. THUD. cry. "Oh, S***!!!!! God, no!" My heart raced as I ran toward my baby boy, who was face down under the monkey bars. Scared to pick him up, but dying to at the same time, I rolled him over to lay him flat. He looked at me, but his stare was rather blank. I noticed scrapes on the side of his forehead and above his cheekbone, but the bleeding was minimal. He closed his eyes. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. Their staff was superb, staying on the line with me, helping me calm down. The 20 seconds or so his eyes were closed seemed like an eternity, but when he opened them he reached up and hugged my neck tightly. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but was still worried. 911 lady kept talking to me as we waited for the ambulance, H stayed close, asking if her baby brother was ok but also somehow staying really, really calm and collected while Mommy went back and forth from near hysterics to deep breaths and hopefulness. A little 6 year old boy had come over from his apartment to play and matter of factly told me that he fell off a play gym once. (His mom was on her patio across the parking lot and she came over to see what was going on, too.) We heard the ambulance near, they pulled up on the other side of the park area and H ran over to show them where we were. The 3 EMT's/Firefighters came over, immediately began checking B's vitals and asked what happened. At that point, B was sitting in my lap facing out, eyes open but very quiet. He kept blinking as though he would fall asleep, and he was getting less responsive. When they first arrived, there was a possibility that I could drive him to the county hospital with a pediatric unit 20 minutes away, but we quickly determined he needed to go to the Children's Hospital of Atlanta for care. So one of the EMT's grabbed H's car seat out of our car (which was next to the play ground, thank God, as we had driven there in stead of parking and walking over from our building). B's vitals remained strong, but he kept falling asleep, and it wasn't long before he would not open his eyes when tickled. Of course, it was also his nap time, and the EMT tried to encourage me to be hopeful since I had told him that B was a heavy sleeper. However, I knew this was not my little bouncing baby boy's normal behavior. And it terrified me. He remained basically unresponsive, or extremely limited in his responses, for the next 2 hours or so.
In the ambulance, Big Sis sat in her car seat and observed, mostly. I had tried to call 2 local friends, and succeeded in texting one to share the news, but there just wasn't time to leave big sis anywhere. And with Daddy out of state, I also felt like she needed to be with us. She thought it was cool that we were flying past all the other vehicles on the highway. The EMT's and I kept trying to awaken him, but his sleep seemed to grow deeper... until they stuck him to give him an IV port just in case. Then he whimpered a little and said "ouch." While I hated to see him hurt, I knew that at least he was feeling things.
The rest of the evening is a blur. Hospital staff took H to another room to color and do some crafts, B had already been assigned a tag bracelet, and he was whisked into triage, followed shortly by a CT scan of the head and a x-ray of the c-spine. This is where Hope crept in. My boy began to come back to me. In the CT room, a projector displayed a rotating sea-life scene on the ceiling above the table. "Look, mama. Fish. Water." He pointed to the ceiling. He was laying still. The only time my 2 year old boy lays that still is when he sleeps. When we moved down the hall to X-ray, he saw pumpkin and cat decals on the ceiling and identified them. I explained to him that a big camera was going to take his picture, and asked him to look at the camera and say "cheese." He kept talking about the pumpkin, the cat, and the camera. For this scan, they even had to repeat a lateral film because he had moved his head while I helped hold his arms down flat.
His improvement continued while we waited in his ER room. He laid flat far longer than I had expected him to, but soon, he began rolling around. He was wearing a neck brace as a precaution, and it was not very long until he sat up. Shortly after that, Aunt Sara arrived, having survived rush hour traffic in Atlanta. Oh, how grateful I am for her tonight.
The nurses came in periodically to check his vitals, and he became increasingly more normal. His movement set of the equipment alarms. He pretended the TV remote was a telephone and called the nurses station for help by pressing the button as he talked on his "phone." He sang "the wheels on the bus go round and round." While he likes that song, I can't help but wonder if it because he knew he was in an ambulance (because we told him so) or rolling down the hall on a cot.
Sitting up-with his neck brace on- in his ER room
As we drove home and the sky darkened, he sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" from his cousin's car seat. Big Sis fell asleep pretty quickly, but in the parking garage she told Aunt Sara that she did not like it when her brother got hurt.
(Thank God for babies in the family! We did not grab his car seat when we took Sissy's.) As we waited in the drive through at Chik-fil-A, he exclaimed "chicken!" And of course, when we pulled into our complex, he asked for the playground. I asked him if the playground was fun or scary. "Fun." But at one point I think he also said "Playground hurt."
As the evening progressed, we ate our dinner, watched a movie, and he began to play with the teddy bear he was given at the hospital (while at the hospital he was not really interested in it.) He wanted me to put his neck brace (yeah, I kept it) on the bear, along with the disposable pressure cuff the nurse had put on it. Then he told the bear to "wake up!" just like we had been telling him in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, when he had that glassy eyed look on his face (if his eyes were open at all).
He set his teddy bear on his pillow, then climbed into bed next to it.
Later, as I tucked Big Sis into bed and sang "You are my sunshine" as one of her lullabies, she changed the lyrics to "please don't take my brother away." My strong, brave girl did so well through this ordeal, too.
Sara's here with me tonight, I am so glad for the company. Daddy will be home on Friday as planned, since the test results were ok and our little man is already back to his old self.
****
Thank you to everyone who heard the news through the grapevine and prayed for us today. Four feet is a really long fall for a 2 year old, and Someone must have heard and softened his fall.
*****
23.5 hours later
11/3/10
My boy is in my lap again, chattering away, pretending a mini slinky is a camera and saying, "cheese." A few minutes ago, he and H were racing hobby horses around the apartment, and before that he was twirling in circles, throwing himself on the ground laughing and exclaiming, "hurt! mama! hurt" But then repeating the cycle. This is completely normal play for him.
God is so good!
Acting normal Tuesday night
Monday, September 13, 2010
Once upon a time
people stayed where their families lived and worked for generations
children went off to school to learn a new trade, but returned "home" with their new skill
or they stayed home and found a local job and worked hard to advance in the company
or maybe they went off to school, got a job elsewhere, and settled and lived happily ever
people who grew up in one of those situations
don't always seem to understand
the process variations for the rest of us
the how's or the why's or the where's
the alternate route may appear nomadic
but there is a purpose
our path may curve and fork
but we journey together
****
not every puzzle comes in a box with a picture of what it's supposed to look like in the end
people stayed where their families lived and worked for generations
children went off to school to learn a new trade, but returned "home" with their new skill
or they stayed home and found a local job and worked hard to advance in the company
or maybe they went off to school, got a job elsewhere, and settled and lived happily ever
people who grew up in one of those situations
don't always seem to understand
the process variations for the rest of us
the how's or the why's or the where's
the alternate route may appear nomadic
but there is a purpose
our path may curve and fork
but we journey together
****
not every puzzle comes in a box with a picture of what it's supposed to look like in the end
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
dreaming of authenticity
So, just before I was awakened by my boy at 5:30 this morning, I had an odd dream. It was odd because of the characters in the dream. My family (me, my husband, and kids, a married couple, and to be honest I'm not sure that the wife is who the guy is really married to or not... I didn't know her. I barely knew the guy in elementary school, so to have him in a dream was rather surprising. I know his name and that's about it, nothing of his character. Yet all of a sudden he became a substitute mascot. And the friend from high school... she was a friend who I always appreciated as someone who was true to herself. Somewhere in the middle. Not part of the main clique, but not an outcast by any means. And somehow, they all ended up at my house, along with my family. The first couple essentially represented the legalistic years, the ones during which I was taught that obedience is "the very best way to show that you believe." (Feel free to sing with me if you know the song!) One might add "no questions asked" to that definition. The other friend represented freedom in her searching, one seeking honesty above perfection. And when they left, the couple was set in their ways, telling us what we should be doing, while the friend was still searching and not convinced that those other people had what she wanted, even if they were "right." There were a few other details (and people) in there... but that's the gist of it. And after I got Buddy settled back down with his sippy cup, snuggled in his big boy bed because apparently the crib won't do, I was still pondering the implications of this dream that was cut short. Not the "why were those people in my dream," but the theme of the experience, more or less. (More to come, maybe.... but it's time to be Mommy.)
So, just before I was awakened by my boy at 5:30 this morning, I had an odd dream. It was odd because of the characters in the dream. My family (me, my husband, and kids, a married couple, and to be honest I'm not sure that the wife is who the guy is really married to or not... I didn't know her. I barely knew the guy in elementary school, so to have him in a dream was rather surprising. I know his name and that's about it, nothing of his character. Yet all of a sudden he became a substitute mascot. And the friend from high school... she was a friend who I always appreciated as someone who was true to herself. Somewhere in the middle. Not part of the main clique, but not an outcast by any means. And somehow, they all ended up at my house, along with my family. The first couple essentially represented the legalistic years, the ones during which I was taught that obedience is "the very best way to show that you believe." (Feel free to sing with me if you know the song!) One might add "no questions asked" to that definition. The other friend represented freedom in her searching, one seeking honesty above perfection. And when they left, the couple was set in their ways, telling us what we should be doing, while the friend was still searching and not convinced that those other people had what she wanted, even if they were "right." There were a few other details (and people) in there... but that's the gist of it. And after I got Buddy settled back down with his sippy cup, snuggled in his big boy bed because apparently the crib won't do, I was still pondering the implications of this dream that was cut short. Not the "why were those people in my dream," but the theme of the experience, more or less. (More to come, maybe.... but it's time to be Mommy.)
Monday, May 24, 2010
A lesson in comfort
Yet you are he who took me from the womb;
you made me trust you at my mother's breasts.
(Psalm 22:9, ESV)
As one whom his mother comforts,
so I will comfort you;
so I will comfort you;
(Isaiah 66:13a, ESV)
Isn't it amazing that God compares himself to mothers? We've been struggling with sleep patterns lately. The past couple of days, my 21-month old has been fighting off nap time and bedtime with a vengeance. I mean screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs type of vengeance. If Daddy or I picked him up, he would stop his screaming. We also suspect the 2-year molars are part of the problem, and have been giving him the meds. But those are apparently not enough.
There are times for self-soothing. But it's interesting that the Psalmist didn't say, "you are he who took me from the womb, you made me cry it out while my mother listened from a nearby tent to teach me to survive."
Likewise, there's the verse in Isaiah. It doesn't say when the mother comforted, or that she stopped comforting at a specific age, but clearly God expects mothers to comfort their child. And He promised that comfort to His children. (In spite of the number of times they had protested, turned away, thrown tantrums, or just the fact that they really needed to grow up.)
Now, I do believe there are times when a baby or toddler needs to self soothe. But today, after days of fighting this battle and then today, breaking down into tears (in my room, where the little one couldn't see or hear me as he wailed through the walls), the theme of these verses came to mind. And when little brat, I mean sweet but needy Buddy, who had thrown his sippy to the floor, been given his pain reliever, and been left to go to sleep for a greatly needed nap awoke after maybe 30 minutes of sleeping, decided he NEEDED Mommy, I decided that for some reason, he NEEDED me, too, and this was not just a battle of the wills. And I held him. And rocked him back to sleep.
And held him for another 40 minutes until he woke up peacefully and looked at me, a sweet, smiling copy of photographs of his Daddy at the same age. It was good for both of us. In fact, he's grown into such a big boy that I can't remember the last time my little wrestler actually slept in my arms for even 5 minutes. Apparently I needed to be reminded that he is still a baby, and sometimes what a baby needs most is Mama.
And held him for another 40 minutes until he woke up peacefully and looked at me, a sweet, smiling copy of photographs of his Daddy at the same age. It was good for both of us. In fact, he's grown into such a big boy that I can't remember the last time my little wrestler actually slept in my arms for even 5 minutes. Apparently I needed to be reminded that he is still a baby, and sometimes what a baby needs most is Mama.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
editing history
So many professing Christians get up in arms over the re-writing of American history, yet we ignore obvious revisions of Biblical history. Or omissions. (Or maybe we only go to church on Sunday and leave the Bible on the night stand the rest of the week. Yeah, I'm guilty of that.)
Why is it that our Biblical heroes are often portrayed only as godly, god-fearing, etc? Their deep flaws are often skipped over in order to coerce us into following some kind of false gospel where our salvation seems to be based on our works almost as much as it is on faith in Christ.
Every once in a while, we MIGHT catch a glimpse of their weaknesses in a sermon or two. David and Bathsheba is often retold. Maybe I just wasn't listening the first time I was told how David ran from Saul into "refuge" under an enemy king, and in the process of saving his own skin, he became a traitor to his people, killing women and children to make the bad dude respect him. (see I Samuel 27:1-28:2) Yeah, I missed that. Until last Sunday. It turns out that David's not-so-little affair was not his first wicked act. Who knew? Could it be that the hard truths of that passage were skipped over because they did not serve a teacher's purpose? Ouch! Or maybe my mind just blocked them out.
The good news is not that David was a man after God's own heart so he could get away with doing whatever he wanted. Somewhere along the road, he repented and sought God. And God used Him in a mighty way. God was faithful, period. And He loved David. Not because of what his child did or did not do, but because he was His child.
So, if God loved David so much that he used Him anyway, shouldn't we, out of gratefulness for his mercy in our own lives, extend forgiveness to those who "don't deserve it?"
Just mulling things over, in hope that God will help me listen to His heart instead of my own.
So many professing Christians get up in arms over the re-writing of American history, yet we ignore obvious revisions of Biblical history. Or omissions. (Or maybe we only go to church on Sunday and leave the Bible on the night stand the rest of the week. Yeah, I'm guilty of that.)
Why is it that our Biblical heroes are often portrayed only as godly, god-fearing, etc? Their deep flaws are often skipped over in order to coerce us into following some kind of false gospel where our salvation seems to be based on our works almost as much as it is on faith in Christ.
Every once in a while, we MIGHT catch a glimpse of their weaknesses in a sermon or two. David and Bathsheba is often retold. Maybe I just wasn't listening the first time I was told how David ran from Saul into "refuge" under an enemy king, and in the process of saving his own skin, he became a traitor to his people, killing women and children to make the bad dude respect him. (see I Samuel 27:1-28:2) Yeah, I missed that. Until last Sunday. It turns out that David's not-so-little affair was not his first wicked act. Who knew? Could it be that the hard truths of that passage were skipped over because they did not serve a teacher's purpose? Ouch! Or maybe my mind just blocked them out.
The good news is not that David was a man after God's own heart so he could get away with doing whatever he wanted. Somewhere along the road, he repented and sought God. And God used Him in a mighty way. God was faithful, period. And He loved David. Not because of what his child did or did not do, but because he was His child.
So, if God loved David so much that he used Him anyway, shouldn't we, out of gratefulness for his mercy in our own lives, extend forgiveness to those who "don't deserve it?"
Just mulling things over, in hope that God will help me listen to His heart instead of my own.
Monday, March 01, 2010
I have not quit yet. :)
Yes, I slipped a couple of times, but I am not quitting my goal. In my usual unorganized fashion, I have not done a very good job of keeping tally of how much $$ I have saved by drinking water, but our family's juice supply lasts longer these days. I got to thinking that if my child were doing something like this, or anything, really, and made a mistake, I would encourage her to keep trying.
It does help that I get a "grace day" on Sundays. That first week and a half was really hard. Really, really hard. Between dealing with the everyday stresses of 2 kids, hubby away, and PMS. But I survived, with just a couple of slips. Including a frosty from Wendy's... that doesn't count as a beverage, right? Hubby said it's a dessert.
In addition to realizing how easily drinking water is available, I have become more aware of the general availability of clean water here in the USA. Laundry water, dish washing water, bath water, plant-watering water, you name it...
Yes, I slipped a couple of times, but I am not quitting my goal. In my usual unorganized fashion, I have not done a very good job of keeping tally of how much $$ I have saved by drinking water, but our family's juice supply lasts longer these days. I got to thinking that if my child were doing something like this, or anything, really, and made a mistake, I would encourage her to keep trying.
It does help that I get a "grace day" on Sundays. That first week and a half was really hard. Really, really hard. Between dealing with the everyday stresses of 2 kids, hubby away, and PMS. But I survived, with just a couple of slips. Including a frosty from Wendy's... that doesn't count as a beverage, right? Hubby said it's a dessert.
In addition to realizing how easily drinking water is available, I have become more aware of the general availability of clean water here in the USA. Laundry water, dish washing water, bath water, plant-watering water, you name it...
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Still waiting for inspiration for the ultimate blog post or theme idea....
There was a point where I could write about anything and/or everything on here. Right now, I'm just not feelin' it. Perhaps it's because it's 5:23 a.m. and I would rather be asleep. Or maybe, I just don't feel like being brutally honest with the blogosphere and need to write a good old-fashioned-paper-journal entry to process my thoughts.
It's been good having hubby home from training for the weekend. This stint is much shorter, thank God. And much less stressful for him. I love having home. The kiddos love their Daddy, and he obviously loves them. It's nice to have someone who will share the hours of being used as playground equipment, and I must confess, sometimes I turn my Mommy self off and let him "handle it." "It" could be anything from putting a dvd in the player to a tantrum to a diaper change, but it's just nice to have him back to do this part of who he is. I don't know how military Moms and single Moms do it.
So, I've had people ask and have been asking myself... what career would I have if I wanted to work in a monetarily paid position? I don't know. That bothers me. I wish I could say it bothers me because I am so overwhelmed with joy where I am at that I would not ever want to be doing anything else. Nope, I'm actually a bit in the-burnt-out-lost-myself-and-feel-like-I-do-nothing-well mode. (That might have something to do with the lack of recent posts.) Don't get me wrong. I love my family. But I am not Martha Stewart, June Cleaver, Carol Brady (who had a housekeeper, btw), Rachael Ray or anyone else. I'm me, whoever and whatever that is. I wouldn't go back to teaching without getting my Master's Degree, but I can't see myself going back to school anytime soon. Customer Service? Umm... so I like to think I was good at that, but I can't say I loved it. Tutoring? I miss my kids. Even though I only had most of them for a short time, I miss their unique personalities, and I enjoyed the networking aspect of managing the center. Retail? No, thank you. BTDT. Unless I got some really cool product along with my wages. And I don't mean samples that I had to buy (even at a discount) for my inventory or show, I mean genuinely free goods.
I need to go back to sleep. I actually feel like I might be able to right now. That is a good thing, unless of course one of the littles decides to wake up uncharacteristically early. :)
There was a point where I could write about anything and/or everything on here. Right now, I'm just not feelin' it. Perhaps it's because it's 5:23 a.m. and I would rather be asleep. Or maybe, I just don't feel like being brutally honest with the blogosphere and need to write a good old-fashioned-paper-journal entry to process my thoughts.
It's been good having hubby home from training for the weekend. This stint is much shorter, thank God. And much less stressful for him. I love having home. The kiddos love their Daddy, and he obviously loves them. It's nice to have someone who will share the hours of being used as playground equipment, and I must confess, sometimes I turn my Mommy self off and let him "handle it." "It" could be anything from putting a dvd in the player to a tantrum to a diaper change, but it's just nice to have him back to do this part of who he is. I don't know how military Moms and single Moms do it.
So, I've had people ask and have been asking myself... what career would I have if I wanted to work in a monetarily paid position? I don't know. That bothers me. I wish I could say it bothers me because I am so overwhelmed with joy where I am at that I would not ever want to be doing anything else. Nope, I'm actually a bit in the-burnt-out-lost-myself-and-feel-like-I-do-nothing-well mode. (That might have something to do with the lack of recent posts.) Don't get me wrong. I love my family. But I am not Martha Stewart, June Cleaver, Carol Brady (who had a housekeeper, btw), Rachael Ray or anyone else. I'm me, whoever and whatever that is. I wouldn't go back to teaching without getting my Master's Degree, but I can't see myself going back to school anytime soon. Customer Service? Umm... so I like to think I was good at that, but I can't say I loved it. Tutoring? I miss my kids. Even though I only had most of them for a short time, I miss their unique personalities, and I enjoyed the networking aspect of managing the center. Retail? No, thank you. BTDT. Unless I got some really cool product along with my wages. And I don't mean samples that I had to buy (even at a discount) for my inventory or show, I mean genuinely free goods.
I need to go back to sleep. I actually feel like I might be able to right now. That is a good thing, unless of course one of the littles decides to wake up uncharacteristically early. :)
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Wandering back around...
A very popular networking site has pretty much replaced my blog for a while. However, status updates are not exactly the same as an entire blog entry. The just provide a glimpse, and that's about it. A blog, for me, has been a bit of a journal in the past. No, I haven't posted my most intimate thoughts here, but I have expanded on some of those glimpses. Plus, there are certain things I really don't want everyone I know to read. And I KNOW that not everyone I know reads this. So right now I am in the process of figuring out what to post where. I don't want all my FB friends and family to see my exercise log (or lack thereof). If you are reading this, it means you have stuck around long enough to care (or not) about what I write here. You obviously aren't going to judge me on my grammar (or lack thereof), my "outline" (or lack thereof- hence the blog title), my frequency (or infrequency), or my maturity (or immaturity).
So, my wandering for tonight....
Hubby's new job is going well. He's learning a lot, challenged by what he does, and feels like it's a good fit. Words can't express how proud and happy that makes me.
But... we have to get used to his travel. For now, at least. I really don't know which is harder... having him work midnights on the beat in an unsafe area of the city, or just having him away from us for a few days at a time.
A very popular networking site has pretty much replaced my blog for a while. However, status updates are not exactly the same as an entire blog entry. The just provide a glimpse, and that's about it. A blog, for me, has been a bit of a journal in the past. No, I haven't posted my most intimate thoughts here, but I have expanded on some of those glimpses. Plus, there are certain things I really don't want everyone I know to read. And I KNOW that not everyone I know reads this. So right now I am in the process of figuring out what to post where. I don't want all my FB friends and family to see my exercise log (or lack thereof). If you are reading this, it means you have stuck around long enough to care (or not) about what I write here. You obviously aren't going to judge me on my grammar (or lack thereof), my "outline" (or lack thereof- hence the blog title), my frequency (or infrequency), or my maturity (or immaturity).
So, my wandering for tonight....
Hubby's new job is going well. He's learning a lot, challenged by what he does, and feels like it's a good fit. Words can't express how proud and happy that makes me.
But... we have to get used to his travel. For now, at least. I really don't know which is harder... having him work midnights on the beat in an unsafe area of the city, or just having him away from us for a few days at a time.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
observation
Whether people admit it or not, apologetics, i.e. defense of ones beliefs, are everywhere. Just as the devout Christian will defend his or her faith, an agnostic or atheist will explain their unbelief.
*******
a·pol·o·get·ics
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2009 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
*******
Moving on...
Whether people admit it or not, apologetics, i.e. defense of ones beliefs, are everywhere. Just as the devout Christian will defend his or her faith, an agnostic or atheist will explain their unbelief.
*******
a·pol·o·get·ics
(ə-pŏl'ə-jět'ĭks)  n. (used with a sing. verb)
|
Copyright © 2009 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
*******
Moving on...
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
sometimes He uses the little things to remind us...
Do you ever pray for the weather to improve, but not really believe it will make a difference?
When I was in college, I spent about 5 weeks in Western Mexico... Sinaloa, to be exact. That's the state that is parallel to the bottom of the Baja Peninsula/Cabo. Well, Hurricane Rick was forecast to hit that area really hard. So a couple of days ago, Hannah and I prayed that the hurricane would weaken before it hit land. I haven't been in contact with anyone I met there since I left, but I think of them and pray for them fairly often.
Last I checked, it has weakened to a tropical storm. Oh, me of little faith. Just goes to show that God IS faithful, even when our faith is weak. Sometimes just asking is enough. In fact, sometimes we don't have to ask. Jesus intercedes for us. How amazing is that?
Do you ever pray for the weather to improve, but not really believe it will make a difference?
When I was in college, I spent about 5 weeks in Western Mexico... Sinaloa, to be exact. That's the state that is parallel to the bottom of the Baja Peninsula/Cabo. Well, Hurricane Rick was forecast to hit that area really hard. So a couple of days ago, Hannah and I prayed that the hurricane would weaken before it hit land. I haven't been in contact with anyone I met there since I left, but I think of them and pray for them fairly often.
Last I checked, it has weakened to a tropical storm. Oh, me of little faith. Just goes to show that God IS faithful, even when our faith is weak. Sometimes just asking is enough. In fact, sometimes we don't have to ask. Jesus intercedes for us. How amazing is that?
Monday, August 03, 2009
refocus
I'm learning to cherish certain aspects of this transitional time. My kids are getting quality time with my parents, something that I don't remember having much of with my own grandparents. Usually we get snippets of time with them, since they live close enough that overnight visits are not mandatory. On the other hand, since we have to drive 3+ hours to visit Tech Mom and Dad, overnight visits=more quality time.
Mom and Dad's place is for sale. 2.5 acres nestled in a field across from an antebellum in middle TN. Minutes from I -65, yet peaceful. Tree-lined driveway and yard, grape arbor with a swing under it, goldfish ponds, and even a volleyball net in the backyard. There are birds, bunnies and bullfrogs galore, along with an occasional woodchuck or deer sighting. Lucy the long-haired calico is typically shy, but if you are on her good side she will leave a mouse, mole, or other delicacy on the stoop for you. Coneflowers are in season, a few cleomi, and most of all, fresh apples. (Pears are on the way.) There are granny smith, and another variety that's sweeter.
I did not grow up here; not really. We moved to TN the middle of my Junior year of High School, and at that point the only thing growing in this yard was the bermuda grass planted by the builder and a left-over wheat stalk or two that made it's way into our yard from the adjoining farm fields. My parents planted and gardened through the years, creating a taste of Eden in Tennessee. Unfortunately, the work it takes to maintain is taking a toll on them, and they want to sell. Some parts of the yard are a bit overgrown, as is the fire pit where my friends and I burned our notes from Chemistry and Algebra II when summer vacation came around.
Anyway, Bear loves running across the yard, feeding the goldfish, chasing bunnies, gathering apples in the skirt of her dress. She asks me what Grandma is doing when my Mom bursts out in random songs that pop into her head based on a conversation or happening. And covers her ears. (She's her Daddy's girl, I guess.)
Buddy has mastered climbing up the stairs and tasted clover from the yard. Grandaddy thinks our little "bam-bam" is going to break the new sliding glass door. Seriously. He crawls to the laundry closet whenever he hears the washing machine running because it reminds him of bathtime.
We do miss our old house a bit, but at least while we are in limbo we have some times to treasure. Memories will be made, it's somewhat up to us whether they will be good or bad.
I'm learning to cherish certain aspects of this transitional time. My kids are getting quality time with my parents, something that I don't remember having much of with my own grandparents. Usually we get snippets of time with them, since they live close enough that overnight visits are not mandatory. On the other hand, since we have to drive 3+ hours to visit Tech Mom and Dad, overnight visits=more quality time.
Mom and Dad's place is for sale. 2.5 acres nestled in a field across from an antebellum in middle TN. Minutes from I -65, yet peaceful. Tree-lined driveway and yard, grape arbor with a swing under it, goldfish ponds, and even a volleyball net in the backyard. There are birds, bunnies and bullfrogs galore, along with an occasional woodchuck or deer sighting. Lucy the long-haired calico is typically shy, but if you are on her good side she will leave a mouse, mole, or other delicacy on the stoop for you. Coneflowers are in season, a few cleomi, and most of all, fresh apples. (Pears are on the way.) There are granny smith, and another variety that's sweeter.
I did not grow up here; not really. We moved to TN the middle of my Junior year of High School, and at that point the only thing growing in this yard was the bermuda grass planted by the builder and a left-over wheat stalk or two that made it's way into our yard from the adjoining farm fields. My parents planted and gardened through the years, creating a taste of Eden in Tennessee. Unfortunately, the work it takes to maintain is taking a toll on them, and they want to sell. Some parts of the yard are a bit overgrown, as is the fire pit where my friends and I burned our notes from Chemistry and Algebra II when summer vacation came around.
Anyway, Bear loves running across the yard, feeding the goldfish, chasing bunnies, gathering apples in the skirt of her dress. She asks me what Grandma is doing when my Mom bursts out in random songs that pop into her head based on a conversation or happening. And covers her ears. (She's her Daddy's girl, I guess.)
Buddy has mastered climbing up the stairs and tasted clover from the yard. Grandaddy thinks our little "bam-bam" is going to break the new sliding glass door. Seriously. He crawls to the laundry closet whenever he hears the washing machine running because it reminds him of bathtime.
We do miss our old house a bit, but at least while we are in limbo we have some times to treasure. Memories will be made, it's somewhat up to us whether they will be good or bad.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
breaking the silence
I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief now. A few weeks ago a posted about some pending changes, but did not have the freedom to share with the public. Well, I can now speak a little more freely, and I figure those who know me best or want to know me best read my blog in addition to my facebook status, so I'm posting here first. Many of you know this already.
Hubby has a pending job offer in another city, about 4 hours away from our current home. The process has begun moving, and we expect to hear his start date soon. So, while anticipating this info, we put our house on the market almost 3 weeks ago. It was a bit of a step of faith, but in this market we felt it would be the wise choice. So far we've had 4 showings, by different realtors and 1 set of offers/counter offers which we are praying will become a sale.
The process has been arduous. If you have followed my wandering thoughts for any length of time, or know me somewhat well, I am slightly organizationally challenged in some ways and VERY organizationally challenged, or undisciplined, in others... especially housekeeping. Hubby has been a HUGE help in motivating me, my sister kept the kids for a couple of days, and voila! we got the house into a showable state.
I don't have cable, therefore I don't watch those staging shows. Let me tell you, I think it's a load of manure. Yes, that's harsh. I think a reasonable person will be able to look past a little bit of personalization and perhaps some clutter. To expect people to "stage" their home like a TV set is ridiculous.
HOWEVER, the normal state of my home involves toys and laundry scattered or piled about, mail all over the kitchen clounter, dishes may or may not be caught up, floor might or might not be swept, bathrooms may or may not be clean, and nothing is ever spotless unless I find a place to stash things in a hurry. I inherited a pack rat gene. Given the choice, I would rather play with my flowers than tend my home. (Unless it's 100+degrees, as it is now with the heat index). Eden might have been a good home for me, but then I would have been Eve... I hope I'm not too much like her. Anyway, I've been finding that state of balance, and although it may not be perfect, my house is a home, and that is clear to potential buyers... minus some of the habitual messes of the past.
I have a range of emotions going through my heart and mind. Relief and joy because we have prayed for God to open a door, and there's finally now a good bit more than a crack after many slammed shut. A bit of fear of the unknown combined with anticipation of a great adventure. Sadness in thinking of family and friends from whom we'll be further separated. God-given faith knowing that He has provided for us in so many ways and is our Jehovah Jireh.
And then there's the idea of finding a new church home... again. How hard will it be to find another place where the Gospel is preached and it's okay to struggle to live it out in our lives? Where it's okay that His sanctification feels like a mystery at times in our lives, that we may change but God Himself does not... His Word does not, His grace is far more than that silly acronym "God's Riches At Christ's Expense" that I've heard in sermons far too many times.... why I roll my eyes at that acronym is a whole post in itself.
Some of my walls have just begun coming down with some of these friends, and now to start the process of finding a church family over. I hate the process of "life goes on", the one in which miles separate you and the walls come back up as the distance divides. If it seems like I've pushed people away or just not let them see my heart during this process, I probably have. I am thankful for those who have tried not to let those walls grow again... you know who you are.
I am comforted by the facts that our destination will bring me closer to a cousin who I've come to know over the past few years, some friends I've met online who have become an extended part of my family in Christ, and that new seasons bring new fruit.
I may come and go on here for a while... my absence should mean I am busy with life, my family, and hopefully not too busy on Facebook and Farm Town, though I do enjoy them. The process of preparing my home for change has also included a bit of refocusing of my own, something the never ends.
I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief now. A few weeks ago a posted about some pending changes, but did not have the freedom to share with the public. Well, I can now speak a little more freely, and I figure those who know me best or want to know me best read my blog in addition to my facebook status, so I'm posting here first. Many of you know this already.
Hubby has a pending job offer in another city, about 4 hours away from our current home. The process has begun moving, and we expect to hear his start date soon. So, while anticipating this info, we put our house on the market almost 3 weeks ago. It was a bit of a step of faith, but in this market we felt it would be the wise choice. So far we've had 4 showings, by different realtors and 1 set of offers/counter offers which we are praying will become a sale.
The process has been arduous. If you have followed my wandering thoughts for any length of time, or know me somewhat well, I am slightly organizationally challenged in some ways and VERY organizationally challenged, or undisciplined, in others... especially housekeeping. Hubby has been a HUGE help in motivating me, my sister kept the kids for a couple of days, and voila! we got the house into a showable state.
I don't have cable, therefore I don't watch those staging shows. Let me tell you, I think it's a load of manure. Yes, that's harsh. I think a reasonable person will be able to look past a little bit of personalization and perhaps some clutter. To expect people to "stage" their home like a TV set is ridiculous.
HOWEVER, the normal state of my home involves toys and laundry scattered or piled about, mail all over the kitchen clounter, dishes may or may not be caught up, floor might or might not be swept, bathrooms may or may not be clean, and nothing is ever spotless unless I find a place to stash things in a hurry. I inherited a pack rat gene. Given the choice, I would rather play with my flowers than tend my home. (Unless it's 100+degrees, as it is now with the heat index). Eden might have been a good home for me, but then I would have been Eve... I hope I'm not too much like her. Anyway, I've been finding that state of balance, and although it may not be perfect, my house is a home, and that is clear to potential buyers... minus some of the habitual messes of the past.
I have a range of emotions going through my heart and mind. Relief and joy because we have prayed for God to open a door, and there's finally now a good bit more than a crack after many slammed shut. A bit of fear of the unknown combined with anticipation of a great adventure. Sadness in thinking of family and friends from whom we'll be further separated. God-given faith knowing that He has provided for us in so many ways and is our Jehovah Jireh.
And then there's the idea of finding a new church home... again. How hard will it be to find another place where the Gospel is preached and it's okay to struggle to live it out in our lives? Where it's okay that His sanctification feels like a mystery at times in our lives, that we may change but God Himself does not... His Word does not, His grace is far more than that silly acronym "God's Riches At Christ's Expense" that I've heard in sermons far too many times.... why I roll my eyes at that acronym is a whole post in itself.
Some of my walls have just begun coming down with some of these friends, and now to start the process of finding a church family over. I hate the process of "life goes on", the one in which miles separate you and the walls come back up as the distance divides. If it seems like I've pushed people away or just not let them see my heart during this process, I probably have. I am thankful for those who have tried not to let those walls grow again... you know who you are.
I am comforted by the facts that our destination will bring me closer to a cousin who I've come to know over the past few years, some friends I've met online who have become an extended part of my family in Christ, and that new seasons bring new fruit.
I may come and go on here for a while... my absence should mean I am busy with life, my family, and hopefully not too busy on Facebook and Farm Town, though I do enjoy them. The process of preparing my home for change has also included a bit of refocusing of my own, something the never ends.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
to post or not to post?
I think I've posted pictures of my glads, asiatic lilies, and callas for the past 2 years. Well, they are back, taller than ever, or in the case of the callas, thicker than ever. My stargazers that I bought really cheap at wal-mart last year are also on their way.
I love bulbs and all plants similar. Especially summer-blooming ones so far, because just when it's getting hot enough that I don't really feel like planting new things to withstand the heat, they come back and tell me that past years' efforts were worth the investment of time. One of my asiatic lily stalks has over TEN buds on it!!!!! I have a feeling I'll be staking that one back!
My camera is downstairs, so I'm not posting the pics right now, but I am wide awake after falling asleep with my little girl at bedtime... and waking up right at 11:30.
Should I post pics of the same types of flowers you've seen on here in years past?
I think I've posted pictures of my glads, asiatic lilies, and callas for the past 2 years. Well, they are back, taller than ever, or in the case of the callas, thicker than ever. My stargazers that I bought really cheap at wal-mart last year are also on their way.
I love bulbs and all plants similar. Especially summer-blooming ones so far, because just when it's getting hot enough that I don't really feel like planting new things to withstand the heat, they come back and tell me that past years' efforts were worth the investment of time. One of my asiatic lily stalks has over TEN buds on it!!!!! I have a feeling I'll be staking that one back!
My camera is downstairs, so I'm not posting the pics right now, but I am wide awake after falling asleep with my little girl at bedtime... and waking up right at 11:30.
Should I post pics of the same types of flowers you've seen on here in years past?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
a different kind of censorship
I don't work in the music industry, but I know a few people who do. There's a fairly well known artist who I got on e-mail list for a while back. Since going solo, his work has become more original and thought-provoking and less like the typical Top 20 CCM countdown material. Apparently, his record label doesn't like a song he wants to put on his album and is delaying the release.
I don't know the content of the song, but the e-mail I received got me thinking. Do record-label contracts really give them the right to completely deny an artist's choice of sharing his work with his listeners? Do they care about artistic integrity and spreading worthwhile messages from the hearts of the people they have selected to represent them, or do they manipulate those artists into fitting into a mold of some type, eventually destroying their unique identity and work, or at least damaging it?
Then again, for all I know maybe the content is shocking enough that I would think twice about buying the album... I am only speculating and don't know both sides of the story. But how much sugar-coating of the gospel do we really need in our music/art? When the message becomes a little messy or controversial, do we hide it in order to protect the sterile holiness that forgets what we are saved from by Christ's blood and resurrection? Is the motive behind the labels' discretion that of maintaining their own sense of "integrity" or the bottom line in the account?
Christians are quick to condemn the mainstream media for censoring viewpoints, but it also seems that censorship is present if not prevalent among the "Christian" media industry.
So much for authenticity....
I don't work in the music industry, but I know a few people who do. There's a fairly well known artist who I got on e-mail list for a while back. Since going solo, his work has become more original and thought-provoking and less like the typical Top 20 CCM countdown material. Apparently, his record label doesn't like a song he wants to put on his album and is delaying the release.
I don't know the content of the song, but the e-mail I received got me thinking. Do record-label contracts really give them the right to completely deny an artist's choice of sharing his work with his listeners? Do they care about artistic integrity and spreading worthwhile messages from the hearts of the people they have selected to represent them, or do they manipulate those artists into fitting into a mold of some type, eventually destroying their unique identity and work, or at least damaging it?
Then again, for all I know maybe the content is shocking enough that I would think twice about buying the album... I am only speculating and don't know both sides of the story. But how much sugar-coating of the gospel do we really need in our music/art? When the message becomes a little messy or controversial, do we hide it in order to protect the sterile holiness that forgets what we are saved from by Christ's blood and resurrection? Is the motive behind the labels' discretion that of maintaining their own sense of "integrity" or the bottom line in the account?
Christians are quick to condemn the mainstream media for censoring viewpoints, but it also seems that censorship is present if not prevalent among the "Christian" media industry.
So much for authenticity....
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
good morning!
ok, i want sleep. the kids are asleep. why am i awake? i should be productive and fold laundry....
this post is beginning to sound like my facebook profile status update.
a couple of days ago, i asked Bear if she wants to go to school or stay home and have mommy be her teacher. this was after a visit to a mom's day out where a couple of my friends send their kids in which she really seemed to want to stay and play on the playground. anyway, her birthday is a month past the state's kindergarten entry deadline. this means that the state says she can't go to kindergarten until she is almost 6. in my opinion, she will be ready before then. the child is identifying beginning consonant sounds, she is a "mother hen" in her sunday school class, and she loves to learn. she soaks up names of plants and birds. she loves older kids.
one of my reasons in adding education to my major in college was that i thought i might want to homeschool my kids some day. then i taught public high school for 2 years. while most of you might think that would be incentive to keep my kids at home, it actually had the opposite effect on me. i realized the serious responsibility that home-schooling parents face, and questioned whether i am up to that challenge. i had a few "students" (kids who were on my class roll but rarely showed up and when they did were not exactly eager to participate) who withdrew from school in order to "home-school". God help them. if they could not get motivated to work under the instruction of caring teachers like myself, and if their parents did not care enough to return my phone calls, how were they possibly going to truly learn at home? i envisioned them sleeping in and taking only open-book tests.
after my brief stint as a teacher in a public school, i had the opportunity to tutor home schoolers through a private tutorial at a local church. MOST of those kids reminded my why i had initially considered home-schooling. their faith and work-ethics were phenomenal. yes, i had at last one student who was ineligible to return to that tutorial program, and she reminded me of some of the students who had dropped out.
anyway, the core of my internal debate is not so much my daughter's capability or even my past experiences in the field of education. it's the knowledge that i am lazy and unmotivated by nature and can't even get myself into a system to keep up with, well, anything. so how on earth can i teach my child effectively? that whole "socialization" debate that often accompanies objections to home schooling does not apply, in my opinion. there are plenty of social opportunities for home schoolers. there are multiple resources for parents, and many kids thrive because they are not limited by the budget restraints or distractions of conventional classrooms. however, being a product of a combination of christian and public education, and having been a teacher, i don't buy into the fear-based theory that christian kids will definitely be corrupted in public schools any more than i buy into the theory that they will be sheltered in private christian schools. kids are kids, and peer pressure exists everywhere. as parents, it is our responsibility to teach our kids values. my parents weren't perfect, but the foundation God gave us through them was not broken when we went to public schools.
it's 4 a.m. my improper punctuation and grammar may demonstrate to some that i should not home school my kids. i'm tempted to close the comments on this post, but this blog has been dead for a while, and as i have nothing else to discuss at the moment, feel free to post your thoughts. i'm not looking for debate, just thinking out loud here. God knows my mind is enough of a forum for debates. feel free to think along with me, if you like. at the very least, pray that i will not let my indecisive nature hinder my daughter's intellectual development. (i don't see that happening, she seems to be doing just fine. but the decision is what will be "just fine" and what will help her truly thrive? i know, only hubby and i can make that decision.)
ok, i want sleep. the kids are asleep. why am i awake? i should be productive and fold laundry....
this post is beginning to sound like my facebook profile status update.
a couple of days ago, i asked Bear if she wants to go to school or stay home and have mommy be her teacher. this was after a visit to a mom's day out where a couple of my friends send their kids in which she really seemed to want to stay and play on the playground. anyway, her birthday is a month past the state's kindergarten entry deadline. this means that the state says she can't go to kindergarten until she is almost 6. in my opinion, she will be ready before then. the child is identifying beginning consonant sounds, she is a "mother hen" in her sunday school class, and she loves to learn. she soaks up names of plants and birds. she loves older kids.
one of my reasons in adding education to my major in college was that i thought i might want to homeschool my kids some day. then i taught public high school for 2 years. while most of you might think that would be incentive to keep my kids at home, it actually had the opposite effect on me. i realized the serious responsibility that home-schooling parents face, and questioned whether i am up to that challenge. i had a few "students" (kids who were on my class roll but rarely showed up and when they did were not exactly eager to participate) who withdrew from school in order to "home-school". God help them. if they could not get motivated to work under the instruction of caring teachers like myself, and if their parents did not care enough to return my phone calls, how were they possibly going to truly learn at home? i envisioned them sleeping in and taking only open-book tests.
after my brief stint as a teacher in a public school, i had the opportunity to tutor home schoolers through a private tutorial at a local church. MOST of those kids reminded my why i had initially considered home-schooling. their faith and work-ethics were phenomenal. yes, i had at last one student who was ineligible to return to that tutorial program, and she reminded me of some of the students who had dropped out.
anyway, the core of my internal debate is not so much my daughter's capability or even my past experiences in the field of education. it's the knowledge that i am lazy and unmotivated by nature and can't even get myself into a system to keep up with, well, anything. so how on earth can i teach my child effectively? that whole "socialization" debate that often accompanies objections to home schooling does not apply, in my opinion. there are plenty of social opportunities for home schoolers. there are multiple resources for parents, and many kids thrive because they are not limited by the budget restraints or distractions of conventional classrooms. however, being a product of a combination of christian and public education, and having been a teacher, i don't buy into the fear-based theory that christian kids will definitely be corrupted in public schools any more than i buy into the theory that they will be sheltered in private christian schools. kids are kids, and peer pressure exists everywhere. as parents, it is our responsibility to teach our kids values. my parents weren't perfect, but the foundation God gave us through them was not broken when we went to public schools.
it's 4 a.m. my improper punctuation and grammar may demonstrate to some that i should not home school my kids. i'm tempted to close the comments on this post, but this blog has been dead for a while, and as i have nothing else to discuss at the moment, feel free to post your thoughts. i'm not looking for debate, just thinking out loud here. God knows my mind is enough of a forum for debates. feel free to think along with me, if you like. at the very least, pray that i will not let my indecisive nature hinder my daughter's intellectual development. (i don't see that happening, she seems to be doing just fine. but the decision is what will be "just fine" and what will help her truly thrive? i know, only hubby and i can make that decision.)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
i saw a 4 week old baby tonight!
i brought a meal to a friend from church and got to meet her little girl. their family dog seemed traumatized by the new addition, hiding out in his little house in the living room. poor thing. but the baby girl... oh, so sweet!!!
i can't believe how much time has passed since we first learned i am carrying a new baby. this pregnancy has been soo much different overall. with bear, i was sick-sick-sick for 2/3 of the time. once the nausea stopped, the heartburn began. i don't recall feeling like she was getting low until at least week 36 or so. little guy, or "lg"?, well he was much easier on me earlier on. oh, I still threw up once or twice a day, but that's nothing compared to 5 or 6 times a day i had grown accustomed to during pregnancy #1. bear was fairly tranquil in the womb, though i did not think so at the time. little guy is making his presence known several times a day. he may even be responding to his sister's voice. he definitely responds to daddy and sis's pokes and jabs, and sometimes kisses. he either loves or hates milk and juice, because he moves constantly after i've had a glass. or maybe that's his response to the cookies i ingest along with them. hiccups are common.
the idea of caring for a newborn again seems to foreign and mysterious, as i can barely remember when bear was that small. sure, i have pictures, but looking at my friend's little girl... so fragile, so tiny (and she's probably 8 lbs...)... so tender....
sigh....
i brought a meal to a friend from church and got to meet her little girl. their family dog seemed traumatized by the new addition, hiding out in his little house in the living room. poor thing. but the baby girl... oh, so sweet!!!
i can't believe how much time has passed since we first learned i am carrying a new baby. this pregnancy has been soo much different overall. with bear, i was sick-sick-sick for 2/3 of the time. once the nausea stopped, the heartburn began. i don't recall feeling like she was getting low until at least week 36 or so. little guy, or "lg"?, well he was much easier on me earlier on. oh, I still threw up once or twice a day, but that's nothing compared to 5 or 6 times a day i had grown accustomed to during pregnancy #1. bear was fairly tranquil in the womb, though i did not think so at the time. little guy is making his presence known several times a day. he may even be responding to his sister's voice. he definitely responds to daddy and sis's pokes and jabs, and sometimes kisses. he either loves or hates milk and juice, because he moves constantly after i've had a glass. or maybe that's his response to the cookies i ingest along with them. hiccups are common.
the idea of caring for a newborn again seems to foreign and mysterious, as i can barely remember when bear was that small. sure, i have pictures, but looking at my friend's little girl... so fragile, so tiny (and she's probably 8 lbs...)... so tender....
sigh....
Friday, July 11, 2008
God is teaching me not to be a skeptic.
Those who know me well, know that along the way hubby and I became very disheartened with the SBC. Yes, my brother in law is a youth minister at a SBC affiliated church. My brother and his wife are music ministers and seminary students. I am very proud of them and thankful to see how the Lord has led them in their callings into ministry. But after being in one SBC-related church after another where building programs seemed to be top priority over the Gospel's impact on our lives, and polity more important than relationships, when we moved to Nashville we basically decided we no longer wanted to be members of a denomination that seemed to pride itself on numbers. That's not to say we aren't grateful for the good teaching we received or friends we made through our involvement in SBC-related ministries prior to the disheartening experiences, we just got fed up with the numbers game, church-marketing agendas, and top few sermon topics ... "Are you saved?" "Are you sure you're saved?" "Have you been baptized?" "What are you doing for God?" "What are you giving to God?"....not that these are bad, I mean Jesus did come to save us. But some of the teaching we heard went over the basics so much that discipleship, deepening our faith through God's word, was pretty weak. Maybe it was a problem in the city where we lived after we were married, because the preaching I heard there never compared to Brother Sing's teaching in college. Ironically, were it not for the college/career ministry at one of the building-program-pushing churches, we may not have met. And I cannot forget the fact that my involvement in the BSU and my college church made my college experience. Having spent some time in a fundy/separatist environment during childhood, God used the SBC- related ministries to show me Christian community within a secular environment, and opportunities to share Jesus' love in places as simple as the dorm hallway.
Gramma called to wish us a happy anniversary yesterday, and in our conversation she mentioned that the she met one of the Disaster Relief volunteers from the SBC.
Her hometown was flooded recently, filling basements and causing evacuation. Well, the residents have since returned to their homes, the Red Cross has moved on, and the SBC Disaster Relief Teams have apparently been there to continue assistance. The lady Gramma met was from Jackson, TN and surprised that Gramma knew where it was. The skeptic in me wonders if they were scouting for future church-planting locations under the guise of helping an area in need. But after a good smack in the head, regardless of any ulterior motives by the powers that be further up, the fact is that their help was greatly appreciated and the volunteers who went sacrificed their time. Although once the rain quit, I bet the Southerners enjoyed the break from the smothering heat that we have here. And I pray that the light they shared will encourage the small Bible church in southwestern WI to love their neighbors and love them well, so they might come to know Christ. I am amazed that the SBC somehow picked this tiny little town on the Wisconsin River to serve out of all the flood-ravaged areas. And grateful. And simply trying to trust that the mission was more than a statistical objective, which I'm sure it was for those directly involved. Having been involved in short-term mission trips, my top priority and my fellow team-members priority was to serve, first and foremost, and hopefully share the gospel in the process. So, this is one time where I must put my skepticism aside and simply say "thanks" to whoever responded to the short-term call North. Gramma and those around her appreciate you.
Those who know me well, know that along the way hubby and I became very disheartened with the SBC. Yes, my brother in law is a youth minister at a SBC affiliated church. My brother and his wife are music ministers and seminary students. I am very proud of them and thankful to see how the Lord has led them in their callings into ministry. But after being in one SBC-related church after another where building programs seemed to be top priority over the Gospel's impact on our lives, and polity more important than relationships, when we moved to Nashville we basically decided we no longer wanted to be members of a denomination that seemed to pride itself on numbers. That's not to say we aren't grateful for the good teaching we received or friends we made through our involvement in SBC-related ministries prior to the disheartening experiences, we just got fed up with the numbers game, church-marketing agendas, and top few sermon topics ... "Are you saved?" "Are you sure you're saved?" "Have you been baptized?" "What are you doing for God?" "What are you giving to God?"....not that these are bad, I mean Jesus did come to save us. But some of the teaching we heard went over the basics so much that discipleship, deepening our faith through God's word, was pretty weak. Maybe it was a problem in the city where we lived after we were married, because the preaching I heard there never compared to Brother Sing's teaching in college. Ironically, were it not for the college/career ministry at one of the building-program-pushing churches, we may not have met. And I cannot forget the fact that my involvement in the BSU and my college church made my college experience. Having spent some time in a fundy/separatist environment during childhood, God used the SBC- related ministries to show me Christian community within a secular environment, and opportunities to share Jesus' love in places as simple as the dorm hallway.
Gramma called to wish us a happy anniversary yesterday, and in our conversation she mentioned that the she met one of the Disaster Relief volunteers from the SBC.
Her hometown was flooded recently, filling basements and causing evacuation. Well, the residents have since returned to their homes, the Red Cross has moved on, and the SBC Disaster Relief Teams have apparently been there to continue assistance. The lady Gramma met was from Jackson, TN and surprised that Gramma knew where it was. The skeptic in me wonders if they were scouting for future church-planting locations under the guise of helping an area in need. But after a good smack in the head, regardless of any ulterior motives by the powers that be further up, the fact is that their help was greatly appreciated and the volunteers who went sacrificed their time. Although once the rain quit, I bet the Southerners enjoyed the break from the smothering heat that we have here. And I pray that the light they shared will encourage the small Bible church in southwestern WI to love their neighbors and love them well, so they might come to know Christ. I am amazed that the SBC somehow picked this tiny little town on the Wisconsin River to serve out of all the flood-ravaged areas. And grateful. And simply trying to trust that the mission was more than a statistical objective, which I'm sure it was for those directly involved. Having been involved in short-term mission trips, my top priority and my fellow team-members priority was to serve, first and foremost, and hopefully share the gospel in the process. So, this is one time where I must put my skepticism aside and simply say "thanks" to whoever responded to the short-term call North. Gramma and those around her appreciate you.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
bittersweet
Yesterday and today ended up being busier than we had anticipated, in mostly a very good way. Tech Mom and Dad rode over from their house on their motorcycle yesterday, and left after breakfast this morning. They gave us just enough notice to make the main areas of the house presentable, and since I knew they were coming to see Bear, anyway, I didn't worry about the rest. I did manage to scrub some nastiness out of the fridge. You don't want to know how bad it was. Anyway, we relaxed with them, and Bear had fun climbing on them, playing with blocks, and demonstrating her newfound fascination with wedding dresses (blankets draped over her head.. thanks to the Little Mermaid). Before they drove off, she sat in front of Papa on the bike and giggled as he started the engine. Usually the noise frightens her if she is too close, but she held onto Papa's arms and grinned. She knew she was safe.
After they left for their 5 or 6 hour ride home (scenic route, on motorcycle, not interstate), we headed down to my parents as we had planned for dinner. Their house is on the market, as they are planning to downsize. Their property is 2 1/2 acres, and as they age and like to venture around the country visiting relatives and friends, it's a lot of upkeep. There are 2 water garden areas, fruit trees line the driveway, and all sorts of vegetation. They did not plant a veggie garden this year. We had a very nice visit. I love the fact that my daughter has been able to begin relationships with all of her grandparents, and she loves spending time with them.
Dad and I walked with her up the driveway, where we picked fresh granny smith apples which were within arms' reach. Bear laughed hysterically as Grandaddy shook the peach tree, trying to loosen out-of-reach peaches from near the top. She also tried to climb the trees herself. We saw bunnies, baby frogs, and of course, the ever-popular goldfish in the lily-pad covered pond. Bear also laughed as she heard the frogs "ribbit"... which I have decided sounds more like a burp.
In a way, I can't help but hope it takes a while for the house to sell. I want her to remember days like yesterday and today. There are connections being formed that I hope will grow stronger. I pray that we will always live near enough for those bonds to be strengthened more than once or twice a year...
Yesterday and today ended up being busier than we had anticipated, in mostly a very good way. Tech Mom and Dad rode over from their house on their motorcycle yesterday, and left after breakfast this morning. They gave us just enough notice to make the main areas of the house presentable, and since I knew they were coming to see Bear, anyway, I didn't worry about the rest. I did manage to scrub some nastiness out of the fridge. You don't want to know how bad it was. Anyway, we relaxed with them, and Bear had fun climbing on them, playing with blocks, and demonstrating her newfound fascination with wedding dresses (blankets draped over her head.. thanks to the Little Mermaid). Before they drove off, she sat in front of Papa on the bike and giggled as he started the engine. Usually the noise frightens her if she is too close, but she held onto Papa's arms and grinned. She knew she was safe.
After they left for their 5 or 6 hour ride home (scenic route, on motorcycle, not interstate), we headed down to my parents as we had planned for dinner. Their house is on the market, as they are planning to downsize. Their property is 2 1/2 acres, and as they age and like to venture around the country visiting relatives and friends, it's a lot of upkeep. There are 2 water garden areas, fruit trees line the driveway, and all sorts of vegetation. They did not plant a veggie garden this year. We had a very nice visit. I love the fact that my daughter has been able to begin relationships with all of her grandparents, and she loves spending time with them.
Dad and I walked with her up the driveway, where we picked fresh granny smith apples which were within arms' reach. Bear laughed hysterically as Grandaddy shook the peach tree, trying to loosen out-of-reach peaches from near the top. She also tried to climb the trees herself. We saw bunnies, baby frogs, and of course, the ever-popular goldfish in the lily-pad covered pond. Bear also laughed as she heard the frogs "ribbit"... which I have decided sounds more like a burp.
In a way, I can't help but hope it takes a while for the house to sell. I want her to remember days like yesterday and today. There are connections being formed that I hope will grow stronger. I pray that we will always live near enough for those bonds to be strengthened more than once or twice a year...
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