at the corner of thankful and merry

This is our Thanksgiving tree. It's lovely and made from our own dirt and willow branches and leaves I drew and then stenciled onto purple, yellow, red, and brown paper. The tree was something I wanted us to do all through November; gathering together taking a moment to each fill out a leaf and hang it from the tree until at the end of the month we would find a tree fairly sagging under the weight of our gratitude.

It's a dear idea, but we didn't do it. I only cut the leaves out of the purple paper. It has about five leaves on it upon which we Brilliant Beauty wrote what we were she was thankful for, and that's all. But I'm refusing to be regretful about it. No, that simply won't do. Instead, as we exit one holiday season and enter the next, our poorly-executed Thanksgiving tree is serving as a prompt moving forward. It reminds me first that whether we put the leaves up or not, we lived active gratitude in November, so much in fact that we were too busy to assemble the tree. That's good to remember, that we're a grateful bunch and know this life of ours is so very rich.

The failed tree secondly delivers a sort of caution to me to not attempt over-achievement at making a holiday special, and that's a prudence I could use stepping into the "most wonderful time of the year" that is Christmas. In a month where it's easy to feel pushed and pulled and tugged to put elves on shelves, choices of advent calendars are numerous and aplenty, parties and parades and events are in every direction, I could use a moment to take heed in stopping, savoring, slowing down. What is special to us about this season? How do we nurture it, help it grow? And all while keeping our whits about us in the flow of busyness . . .

The Thanksgiving tree is down, disassembled and discarded. The leaves are tucked away to maybe try again next year. It's a dear idea. And the Christmas tree isn't up yet. It will be; in fact, we're making a date of it next Sunday because we know then we can slow our pace, make hot chocolate, turn on the music, and enjoy the processing of converting our cottage into its Christmas-time self.

I'm looking forward to it, to savoring the process.

Here are a few final Thanks-givings from the last days of November.

this dear face soaking up some light therapy and reading
across from me at the breakfast table before little ones were awake

Brilliant Beauty learning how to crochet her first chain of stitches

date night...without Pretty Baby even though she's doggone cute

the remnants of our fall mantle pumpkins that Little Big Man
was elated to have the privilege of smashing to bits in the back yard

a sweet girl abandoning dress-up mid-costume change to look at library book after library book

crocheting Christmas secrets

divorcing Wal Mart

It has been an internet-less, but nonetheless lovely, week around here. Lots of staying up late and sleeping in, slow moving, good eating, and family.

Today on Black Friday 2013, while I sit blissfully unattached to and virtually unaware of all of the shopping happening around town, it reminds me of the time I broke up with Wal Mart. That was nearly eight years ago, and I'm pretty sure the break up is final. Ma Luffin Mayun thought I should repost my original challenge to myself in which I laid down the gauntlet. We both get a laugh out of it, and hopefully you will, too.

Here’s the breakup letter, originally written by me on January 10th, 2006. Enjoy!

I am embarking on a journey. As with all epic adventures, it will require nothing less than the utmost tenacity and fortitude to walk each step of the way. Some days may feel like an amble in the park, as if I were basking in beams of light that radiate from the very challenge itself. As well there will be, without a doubt, obstacles that will cause my steadfast resolve to quake and me to doubt the worth of the expedition. Nevertheless, it is now that I determine with paramount resolve and doggedness to do what I have long threatened to do…to begin this trek…to officially attempt to live my life without Super Wal Mart.

Let me first say, that at this point in this process my decision to boycott Super Wal Mart is absolutely not based on any expose of the company, any of its policies, or its clear monopoly of “one-stop shopping”. The singular reason these factors do not affect my decision to cease shopping at Super Wal Mart is one basic fact: I know almost diddlysquat about the corporation, its dogma, or its cartel. By all accounts, the founder of Wal Mart seemed to be a God-fearing and thoughtful businessman. I am simply instituting a personal embargo because I am…well…fed up.

Wal Mart has been part of my life for a long time, as I am sure most Americans can say. There have been moments in my life that it has brought me joy, elation, relief, and escape, just to walk through its doors and see the commerce and industry at my fingertips. It has been a marvelous distraction from my hectic days or heavy thoughts. What thrill there was in being able to purchase windshield wipers, control top panty hose, fresh eggs, and Englebert Humperdink’s greatest hits CD all in one place. Who else can say that of their store? But those days of euphoria for me have come…and long gone.

Last night my husband, daughter, and I packed into our car and went to the Super Wal Mart less than fifteen miles south of our house. There is another one, our “regular” Super Wal Mart if you will, less than fifteen miles north of us. There is still another Super Wal Mart ten miles north of there, and so forth and so on for miles. In the last week I have visited all three of these branches within a twenty-five mile radius of my house for various reasons. Last night’s trip was for groceries and photo development. As I found myself standing in the house wares department trying to talk my husband into a new comforter set for our bed (bringing the number of comforters for our bed alone up to three), which qualifies as neither groceries nor photo development, I realized that this is how it always ends up. I am supremely distracted, to some degree at odds with my husband or myself over some item I have convinced myself we need in a record minute-and-a-half, and am completely off task, worn out, and too tired to finish my original shopping list. In the checkout line last night I looked around with the comprehension that my joy has been replaced by gloom, elation replaced by depression, relief replaced by drudgery, and escape replaced by enslavement every time I darken the doors of Super Wal Mart. I am simply fed up.

So what shall I do? Well, I have decided to not return to any Super Wal Mart for an entire year. My last visit was last night, January 9th, 2006. We completed our shopping experience at 7:23 P.M. (note: We arrived at 5:35 PM, had a shopping list with 21 items on it, and the intention to print 17 pictures from our digital camera. We purchased 43 items, in addition to our 17 developed pictures, and missed 4 items on our original shopping list.) The clock starts from there. I will not purchase anything, from the smallest pack of gum to the largest electronic device, from Super Wal Mart. Not only will I not purchase anything, I will also not enter the doors of a Super Wal Mart within this year. This will be a huge challenge for me because, again, Wal Mart has been a major part of my life. It will be an even bigger adjustment. But this is an alteration of my life that I want to make. I do not want to purchase twice the items that I should‘ve, and still not have everything I need. I do not want to go in for deodorant and come out with the lost episodes of Mutt and Jeff on DVD just because it was in the $5.50 bin. I do not want to feel “aisle rage” as the other Super Wal Mart shoppers abandon their ability to operate a several-ton vehicle for the haphazard driving they indulge in with their shopping carts. I do not want to end every romantic and memorable evening out with my husband with a trip to Super Wal Mart because our car seems to have a magnet pulling it into the parking lot, riddled with abandoned buggies. I do not need to feel that needy, that desperate, that pathetic.

These are my issues, not Super Wal Mart’s. I take full responsibility for my weaknesses, my actions, my habits. I am not asking Super Wal Mart to change a thing. I just know my limitations, and I’m tired of ignoring them.

So, I bid you “Farewell, Super Wal Mart“. I’m just a drop in your “one-stop shop” bucket, I’m sure, and you’ll never know I’m gone. But I gotta be moving on.

And here are some follow up thoughts I wrote about three years ago.

"do I know you" interview twelve: amy f.

Oh happy day! It's facebook-friend-interview Friday.

I'm ever so pleased to introduce to you my friend Amy F.

A few words about Amy: Ah, my friend Amy. It's so very nice to call her "friend" after years of us really only knowing of each other via our circle of mutual friends. In the last several months we have had a couple of chances to actually spend time together in the same room (and when you add those two times to all of our previous in-person interactions, I think that brings the count up to a total of four). However few and far between, every time I walk away with deeper affection for Amy. She's a woman, wife, and mama trying to live all of this life out with the sole purpose of knowing Jesus and making him known. She has a musical ability that's like butter, just comforting and rich. I'm fascinated by Amy and who she is by design and the way I see the design unfolding in her. I can count on my fingers the number of times I have ever met in my entire life someone with as strong a resolve and clarity of purpose balanced with an authentic humility and humor that draws you in and makes you want to know more. Recently she shared her heart and vision with me for the very real and raw work she has done, is doing, will do to rescue women out of the warped, twisted, bizarre, surreal, nauseating, devastating, rampant reality that is sex trafficking and modern-day slavery. Amy talked to me from her heart, and I was moved to find it full of countless years of educational and experiential knowledge, as well as her passion and emotion. Because of the fire burning in her to rescue what's been lost to darkness, my heart burns now. Amy is one of the realest real-deals I have the privilege of knowing. I'm in awe that our paths have crossed and our destinies are linked, that we will know each other more in all the time to come.

1. Occupation?

I am a trainer for Out of Darkness (a 24/7 rescue hotline for women being prostituted in Atlanta) and am in the process of opening a long term recovery home for survivors of sex trafficking, ages 11-17 (Sparrow's Nest Ministries)

2. How did we meet/how do we know each other?

In my imagination, we have known each other since you were pregnant with Brilliant Beauty, but in reality you are a FB buddy, the main character in so many Kathryn [our friend] stories, and I have only seen you face-to-face like 3-4 times (?????). It does, however, feel like you've been my friend for a looooong time. In the immortal words of Anne: "We are kindred spirits."

3. Single or married?

Married to Shane for 14 years.

4. What’s the greatest thing about being single or married?

The best and worst things about being married are two sides of the same sword. Marriage is a real flesh-burner. Conflict breeds intimacy and, when marriage is working best and we are allowing the Lord to work in us, we get such a beautiful, working picture of forgiveness and restoration. No (earthly) relationship has more power to wound and more power to heal.

5. What was your first vehicle?  Love it or hate it?  Why?

My first vehicle was a baby blue 1978 Volkswagen Beetle that was $1200 in 1985. Loved it in theory, but there was tin foil involved in keeping part of my engine together and I think I nearly died from leaded gasoline fumes. My favorite part about it is that (duh) it was my first ticket to freedom and I ADORE the sound the old Beetles make (sounded like a vehicle from the Jetson's). 

6. Beach or mountains? Why?

So hard. Mountains for the low temperatures and coziness factor. It would be ideal if I could just HEAR the ocean from the mountains. I really adore both.

7. Darkest time of your life?

Hmmm. There are a few to choose from in that category: A period of about 1.5 years that I lovingly refer to as the "Threshing Floor" season, where my marriage almost did not survive and I, quite literally, lost my best friend. When I was sitting at the altar one Sunday night the Lord said to me, "Will you come with Me to the threshing floor?", to which I quickly responded, "Yes!". He then replied, "Do not answer in haste." (I had never heard Him say anything like that to me before). So, I went home and researched the threshing floor of the Bible for the next week. Then, better informed, came back and answered Him with a little more solemn "yes." Thus began one of the darkest years of my life, even pre-Christ. It was a time of pain, loss and suffering; blessing, increase, and God's favor; costly sacrifice, and ultimately, the presence of God in ways I have rarely experienced. It was a time of GREAT loss and loneliness, but a time where I learned how to authentically lead worship from a seat of grief and how pain is not only an acceptable offering when my hands are empty of anything else to give the Lord, but a beautiful one He much desires from us. I learned that the Lord will stop at nothing to become my One and Only "Source" and that EVERY other human relationship should fall only under the category of "support."

8. Happiest childhood memory?

Playing outside until dark EVERY night of the summer, growing up in Chicago (Wheaton, to be exact). Every memory of those years outside was my happiest memory (ages 4-10).

9. What would people be surprised or shocked to know about you?

That I have always sworn there would never be a firearm in my home and I had not, in fact, touched a gun EVER until 2013. I now own a Glock 19 and know how to use it ... Now, if only it came in pink and sparkly.

10. What work of art (book, music, etc.) has heavily influenced you?  Why?

Different ones at different times. Childhood - heavily influenced by "Little House on the Prairie" and longed to live in that era. As an adult - I have been HEAVILY influenced by the lives of three women (in book form): Corrie Ten Boom, Amy Carmichael and Jackie Pullinger Books that altered my walk with the Lord - "Passion for Jesus" (Mike Bickle) "Unto Death" (Dalton Thomas) "Hinds Feet in High Places" (Hannah Hurnard) --- I've read it 7 times and counting.

11. Favorite place you’ve traveled to? Why?

Alaska, without a doubt. I had NO idea there was a place on the planet that looked like that ---- glaciers are BLUE . . . who knew?? Stunning and I can't wait to go back some day. 

12. What brought you to the city you live in now?

I married Shane and we needed to live somewhere in the vicinity of Atlanta (suburbs) but wanted to still feel like we were a bit in the country. My best friend and sister lived in Flowery Branch at the time. Why not? 

13. What is your favorite trait about yourself?  Why?

Well, I can't hold a grudge to save my life which, actually, used to infuriate me growing up. But I have come to be so very grateful that forgiveness comes swiftly (not to be confused with easily). That, and I simply adore people.

14. Vintage or brand new?

Furniture - vintage that has either been restored or brand new that has been weathered. HA!!! I'm a retard!

15. Fill in the blank: It’s quiet and no one is around.  I think I will __________.

. . . read or watch a movie. (IF all my dang housework is caught up, that is)

16. What would you describe as one of your biggest triumphs in life?

I don't know that it's "mine," but from a spiritual standpoint when I FINALLY understood - deeply - that Jesus loves me; like, LOVES ME, loves me. That was MAJOR and I can still see where I was sitting (a Marriott in Nashville with my feet propped up on the window sill in my room, reading a book). Total and complete game-changer forEVER. I've never once doubted it since that moment. I don't UNDERSTAND it, but I don't doubt it for a minute.

17. City or country?

Oooo . . . country, but within an hour, driving, of a city. Love 'em BOTH!!

18. If today was your last, what three things would you do?

*WRITE DOWN everything I ever wanted or would want my kids and family to know about how I feel about them and, more importantly, how the Lord feels about them. *WRITE DOWN the "small stuff" and the guidelines for "choosing your battles" -- and how to choose your spouse by checking to see if they are KIND to people, smile easily, love Jesus, and race to out-give each other. Period. *Clean the microwave (Lord knows, I don't think anyone in this house knows that you have to do that!)

19. Fast food or “just say no”?

Hmmmm . . . I despise fast food for the most part, but I love Zaxby's and Chick-Fil-A occasionally. So, mostly "just say no," I guess.

20. If you got a tattoo (or another one) what would it be?

Something to do with my kids. I have scripture and flowers on my wrist now, but I would love to have a small, subtle, indelible nod to my kids' lives somewhere.

Something else about Amy that I want to share . . .
Amy shared with me through this interview process a link to a previous interview she participated in. She did it so that I could know her better. I asked her permission to share it and she granted it to me. Her story to tell is messy and honest and painful and redemptive, like all of us if we would be honest. I hope you'll watch and know her better, too, and that through it you will know hope the most.

Here's a complete list of all the facebook friend interviews.

throwback thursday - why network?

throwback Thursday photo-op (with absolutely no relevance to the post): March 2011

I'm rarely not thinking about ways to connect with people. I think it's just kind of part of who I am intrinsically. I dig people and their stories, drawing them into sharing who they are. But before I start to sound too philanthropic or altruistic, you should know I think about it way more than I act on it. It takes more effort than I'm willing to put in most days. Adding another layer to this in the interest of full-disclosure, sometimes the desire to make certain connections is fueled by selfish and self-serving reasons. Whether for the benefit of myself or someone else, I think about making connections with folks a lot.

I think we all want to be connected up and sharing life. I'm certainly no different. For Throwback Thursday here today, I'm sharing a post from April 2011 entitled "Why Network?". It reads to me as truly as if I wrote it all right now (I think I may say that on every throwback post, but so far it's true). The more I write and stay involved with this blog, the more thoughts of connecting, networking, building a broader reader base, branding, getting traffic to here all rolls around in my head right alongside trying to remember to write because it's something that fundamentally makes me come to life whether one other person reads it or not. I don't want to twist it and contort it into something marketable but lacking genuine heart, but I confess I want to be read. I think I have things to say; not always brilliant things or life-changing things or posts that go viral. But I have things to say.

Today, I really am thankful for my network, my connections to people I know and love or am learning to know and love. I'm thankful that so far I've shrugged off the magnetic pull towards gimmicks that would diminish the heart of why I write. It's a joy to write here and icing on my big ol' cake that people read and comment.

Why Network?

If you're reading this, chances are more than good that you got invited to this corner of the blogosphere through NetworkedBlogs on facebook.  If you're reading this, I'll go ahead and say thanks for that.  Really.

Sending out an oodle of requests to my friends asking them to read my blog felt something a little less than comfortable.  I mean, self-promotion is not a characteristic I aspire to be known for.  It's awkward and mis-readable; it can look like braggadocio and sales-pitch-y.  Every time I sent out a batch of requests inviting - well, YOU - to the blog I thought, "Don't send them this.  What do they care?  Move on already."

Can you tell I'm not a salesman?  But that's fine since I've got nothing I'm trying to sell.

Here's the deal; it doesn't get easier to stay connected these days.  That's insanely ironic since our ability to connect is huger than ever in so many mediums.  But it isn't always easy.  If you are here - "networked" into this blog - I am so thankful because this is at least one way for me to "connect" with you in something more than my meager attempts at glib, witty facebook statuses.  I don't know if that will be good news to you.  You may not give a rip about the things that I have written or will write about here.  I get that.  I really do.  And if you don't and you "un-network" from here, I'll live and love you anyway (I'm not a self-promoter, but I'm also not easily offended).  But I have winnowed down my facebook list - numerous times - to consist of the people that mean something to me; you were and are my friends from school, or my teachers; my pastors or my youth leaders; you're extended family or people that I am just getting to know.  In some way our lives legitimately connected at some point, and the invitation extended to you is my way of moving that forward a bit.

It's just a blog.  Sometimes it's just nonsense or irrelevant or silly or too serious.  But it's my life now as I know it.  And I want to share it.  I don't want to grand-stand or show-boat.  I just want to stay connected.  I want to hear from you.  I want your comments as points of contact and not to stroke an ego.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  Thanks for reading.

grace, mercy, and peace

I've been embroidering this off and on as time permits: grace, mercy, and peace. They're all I can think about tonight . . .

how fast we can find ourselves needing them; their elusiveness when life thrusts circumstances upon us that seem to send them fleeing while we run scared; how easily they're reduced to platitudes when everything in us feels contradictory . . .

how desperately we need our village of compatriots to wave them like banners over us - or maybe hold them over our heads like a tarp in a down-pour - when we can't grasp them in our own grip, or to sound them both in whispers and with bullhorns when our ears can't pick up their frequency, or to bake them into our bread and disperse them in our water for us when our only food and drink is sorrow, pain, and despair.

Grace - getting better than what we deserve. Mercy - not getting the worst of what we do. Peace - tranquility, harmony, the cessation of war.

Oh, to wave their banner, speak their names, and feed them to the starving.

Grace, mercy and peace. They're all I can think about tonight.

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase; To added affliction He addeth His mercy, To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace. — Annie Johnson Flint

beating back paper clutter

A mere 27 days after I said I would (really, you can't possibly be surprised at this point by that kind of procrastination coming from me), I beat the library/office armoire into submission today. Spanked it, I tell ya. Now we have an organized and legit space to keep order in the business-and-paperwork part of our lives.

For the last several weeks in anticipation of ordering this space I've sort of piled paper clutter and bins of miscellaneous office stuff in and around the armoire. I'm a firm a believer that to clean up a mess you may have to make a bigger mess first. Maybe everyone doesn't work like that, but I often times do. That certainly happened today.

Be prepared for hot-mess photos (as if that's new around here . . .).

I first pulled EVERYTHING out of the armoire and emptied all the bins around it. Then all of that stuff ended up in one of three destinations: 

a give-away box
the trash
or sorted out to be put back into the armoire.

I was ruthless. I find great delight in throwing away junk or boxing up for Goodwill stuff that nobody is using well around here; winnowing at its finest. Winnow I did, and it yielded a heap of stuff for the thrift store and a packed garbage bag of trash.

Pulling it all out, trashing it or packing it for the thrift store was fast work. Where I intentionally slowed myself down was in deciding what and how things should go back into the armoire. Besides wanting to minimize the clutter, I also wanted to not create some unattainable system of organization that none of us are actually going to use. I'm learning myself more all the time and over-complicated schedules or systems around here don't help anyone. Remembering this made me still myself and really think about it before putting items back in.

Pretty snazzy, huh? Here's a slightly closer tour . . .

The bottom left that was one big tangle of completely outdated and unusable cords and cables now has our bank books, one up-cycled food canister of cords we may actually use, and a box containing an external disk drive and its associated cables.

The bottom drawer now has only a box of stationary (that got cleaned out and reorganized, pictured to the right), some computer disks, a flash drive, and a printer cartridge.

The top drawer has office supplies like a label maker, paper clips, labels, and plastic containers with pens, pencils, scissors, and glue.

Since the piece of furniture I am using is an armoire, the right side is tall without any drawers or shelves, where clothing could be hung. This makes for an awkward space to try and use as a cabinet. To solve that problem I put two crates in to form shelves. Now this side of the armoire holds scrapbook and large craft paper stacked vertically, a bag of old but special video camera tapes, packets of notebook paper, and a plastic box of the kids' markers, crayons, and colored pencils.

We had a super surplus of coloring stuff, including markers that had not been recapped and long ago had dried up. I cleared a ton of them out and left them with only what still works.

My favorite part of the reorganization is this area back to the top left. A while back I started using a six-file fix for our paperwork. Over time I've figured out how to custom fit it to us. In our home the six-file fix has morphed into four file boxes:
incoming mail and bills
papers to read or items to send
time-sensitive material
and papers to be filed.

This is where all the papers will come into the house and be sorted. I've found that pretty much everything falls into one of these categories or can just be trashed or shredded. Rather than manila folders I have come to prefer these boxes for their form, structure, and capacity. I can grab the to-be-filed box, head over to the file cabinet and file away. Pretty convenient.

I've also set up a station to the left of the armoire giving the kids each a bin for their school pages.

So there it is. Today I'm thankful for beating back clutter and a junky mess one afternoon at a time.

I always like to know how other people manage these things we all have in common. How do you stay on top of paper clutter?

connection reset

One of the magazines my husband subscribes to at the office came in the mail a few weeks back. He brought it home for me to peruse because it had some content he thought I would find interesting. He knows me so I'm sure it does, but I can't seem to get past the impact of the picture on the front.

Three little birdies, like our three kids. 

One big, oblivious mama-bird preoccupied with her phone and herself (I mean, is she taking a selfie?!).
Three little birdies overlooked and frustrated. 

One simply but well-depicted personification of the disconnect that can happen in relationships when we're too technologically connected.

I love technology. I am impacted by it so positively on a daily basis. Because of it, there are people all over the world that I can talk to as if they were in the room with me and we can genuinely keep up with each other's lives. I can read the profound thoughts, words, and deeds of other people. I can watch stupid-funny videos that elevate my mood and make me laugh. I can learn how to do something new because of the wealth of information the world shares in this collective that is the worldwide web. I can pay bills and transfer money. My faith and doctrine and theology can grow. I can take pictures and send them to my friends and family. I can get thoughts and ideas out of my own pysche, feelings out of my soul, write this blog, and you can read it because of technology. I love that.

You cannot convince me of the inherent evils of technology. But I can love it too much. 

When I regularly plop Pretty Baby down with a snack and a second or third video to watch just so I can "socially network", I love it too much. When Brilliant Beauty is talking to me about the high drama that is seventh grade and I sort of nod and grunt in response while still scrolling my phone in hand and glancing it out of the corner of my eye, I love it too much. When I hear myself sigh heavily and seem snappy because Little Big Man has to tell me something he thinks is important while I'm trying to hear a radio program, I love it too much. When I think in status updates, I love it too much. When I get out of bed in the morning and unplug my phone from the charger to look at it before I've even thought to speak to or kiss or hug Ma Luffin Mayun - or God, I love it too much.

I spend a lot of time loving technology too much. This picture reminds me of that. All of this connection through technology is a tool in my hand, in all of our hands. But any tool can be misused, and instead of building, repairing, and fixing could become something that tears, breaks down, and destroys.

So I'm confessing that I've misused it. To myself, and to you.

I have so much more to give my little birdies, and so much more to receive from them. I don't want to look down and see perturbed tiny faces, distressed because they can't gain full access to their mama whose face is buried in a screen. Or worse, to look down and see three faces that don't even try anymore to connect. I don't want to find them today or tomorrow or five years from now modeling some bad behavior, feeling overly connected to media and technology and disjointed from the people they love and need most. They are growing up in a world vastly different than the one I grew up in and technology and social media is an intricate part of it. It's not my desire to raise them in a cave or buried underground, sheltered away from it all. I want them to use it and use it well, to understand and wield its goodness and stand up against the corners of it that have been seized by evil. But I want them to see in me, to learn from my example, how to pick it up and put it back down always in favor of the satisfaction and wholeness that comes only from real relationships, real depth, and real living in three dimensions.

I want to choose to spend the majority of my days in the floor putting together puzzles or playing dolls or cutting paper and finger-painting with a quickly-growing 4-year-old. I want to hear every word and story coming out of the mouth of an ever-maturing 12-year-old who is so willing to talk to me about anything and everything while she still is. I want my one little fella to know at 6-years-old that what he thinks and says matters to me more than anything I could be reading or listening to. These little birdies will never come around again. I have them today, right now. Emails and statuses and viral videos will cycle. They always do. I get these kids once.

I'm so very thankful for technology. And I'm more thankful for learning how to refashion it into a useful tool in hand; to turn it off, walk away from it, and choose to really live and really love. The world is at our fingertips, but all I can think is the verse, "How does a man benefit if he gains the whole world and loses his soul in the process?" The last two or three days have been full of nearly abandoned phones and televisions - and even my blog - in favor of each other. All I want is more of that.

I love these birdies too much to continue to love technology too much.

some days

Today I'm overly tired.
I'm under-ly motivated.
I emptied into my mouth a bag of jalapeno cheese puffs for lunch and dinner.
I didn't get my run in today, which might've eased the angst over the cheese puffs.
I'm serving pb&j for supper.
I'm not going to do the dishes.
Actually, I don't have big plans to do anything else for today.
I'm cold.
I'm hugely aware of my flaws today.
I'm short-tempered with the kids.
I'm probably putting them to bed as soon as it's dark at 6pm.
I may follow close behind.
My chickens are in the middle of a moult which has slowed their egg production to almost nothing. I read up on it and just realized I think I might be, too, metaphorically speaking.

Some days, I tell ya.

But it's just a day, not all days.

Instead of wallowing and feeling the brunt of all of the above, I'm going to allow grace to fill in the guilty places. Isn't that lovely? My friend said that this week. That's what I'm going to do.

Sometimes the person you need to practice being nice to is yourself.


I'm thankful for grace instead of guilt when some days are just too overly and under-ly.

in favor of men

It's Veterans Day 2013. That's got me thinking specifically about my father and my grandfathers. Military veterans are a distinct class of individuals. Today people have widely varying opinions about this collective of men and women; some favorable and others not. Some elevate them to near deities while many acknowledge them in no way whatsoever. But whatever distinction you draw in your opinion-maker, it cannot be argued that these persons put themselves on front-lines and submersed in iron fish, in mechanical birds and on warships, upon every terrain and through all elements, and fought - are fighting - battles I will never have to fight which have given me liberty and freedom I would not otherwise have. I think that is empirical fact.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you, veterans.

However, this is not necessarily a Veterans Day post.

Thinking of these men in particular has caused me to reflect on other men in my life that are so important to me, like my husband, father-in-law, brothers-in-law, nephew, leaders, friends. The presence of these men in my life is one of the riches in my treasure trove of ways I have been blessed. I wish in no way to diminish the honor due veterans of foreign wars on this day, but I think of these men - all of them - and I know them each as veterans of battles, whether in literal war or in life. The battles I've seen them fight and see them fighting, the evidence of their strength and their weakness, their resolve and their questioning, the dignity and the vulnerability, their tenderness and their tenacity; these things cannot be replaced or relegated to something less than the powerful commodities they are in my life and in the lives of anyone who knows them.

Maybe this is not necessarily a Veterans Day post, but a pro-man post. I think we could use one of those.

We need men. I need these men. I am so thankful for them.

I wrote this some time ago. Men in my life, I mean it for you.

Stories have always been told of men with great stature, who conquered fierce enemies and built glorious kingdoms. The greatness of these men was attributed to their large structure, numerous victories, and the vastness of their empires. But I have realized that though there may be grandeur found in both their physique and their fortune, something different determines whether a man truly stands in greatness: his heart. And it is not the simple existence of a heart, but rather the condition it is in.

Greatness in a man is found when searching his heart is at the core of every decision; searching, not following blindly. Greatness in a man is found when passion in his heart is behind every victory; passion, not vindication. Greatness in a man is found when the wisdom of his heart molds defeat into learning; wisdom, not mere knowledge. Greatness in a man is found when the hope in his heart presses through sorrows until it finds gladness; trading in the ashes for a crown of beauty. Greatness in a man is found when the love his heart holds cherishes relationships as wealth and not waste; leading with an open hand, not ruling with an iron fist.

Not many can profess that they have known any "great man". Some would say, "He is not grand. He has no magnitude, no trophies of war, no vast kingdom." But i know that all of the prominence a man can stand with, all of the battles he could win, and all of the wealth he could own mean nothing if his heart is cold.

There may be times when grandeur is found in both your physique and fortune. And there may likewise be times when neither is considered note-worthy. But there is something different that determines whether you truly stand in greatness; your heart. If this is the truest measure of a man, you stand the tallest. If your heart determines the battle, you will surely be a victor. If your heart is where fortune is found, you reign the wealthiest. And if I have but a portion of this heart, I stand in humbled awe.

Never question your greatness. I do not. 

happy neglect

So this didn't get done today.

And neither did this.

The kids hauled down a mass of Barbies, Littlest Pet Shop toys, and Lincoln Logs and spent hours spreading them all over the library building "apartments" for all of them. It's all still there, strewn about.

The man crashed in his recliner, deservedly so.

I emptied a bag of yarn, watched some youtube tutorials and made some scarves and stuff.

I'm thankful for a day of neglected dishes and ignored laundry piles, of meticulously-built toy kingdoms in not-so-convenient places, of accidental naps under warm blankets, and impromptu scrap-yarn projects.

It's been a lovely Saturday. Indeed.

"do I know you?" interview eleven: erica & cher s.

Fridays around here are going to be full of more awesome facebook friend interviews. "Do I Know You?" has been such fun for me, and I hope it has been for everyone else involved. I have gobs more completed interviews to post, so I'm calling Fridays the day for it, with a new interview posted each week. (If you answered the interview and haven't seen your post, don't fret, Babette. It'll be up soon.) If you'd like to see all of the previous interviews, just click here for a complete list. There will always be a tab at the top of the blog just under the title that you can click on to access the list of interviews any time.

One of these two gals was a birthday girl this week. The other gave birth to her. Both of those things are pretty outstanding to me, so this week's interviewees are my niece Erica and my sister Cher S. Of course the purpose of the interviews is to get to know friends from facebook that I might not otherwise know all that well. Obviously I know these two folks pretty darn well to begin with, but just like with each of the interviews before (including my parents'), knowing someone even an entire lifetime still doesn't make you an expert on them. I like the surprise of some of the answers. Cher's and Erica's answers helped even me know them a little better.

Now it's your turn to get to know them . . .

Erica S.

A few words about Erica: When trying to think of things to say about family members, it's a challenge to not swing the words too far into sap and sentimentality or be too silly and snarky. I'm going to try to not even think about any of that. Erica is precious. I mean, just spectacular. She is the only girl in a sibling group of four, and for seventeen years (until only two years ago) she was my one niece. I was there when she was born, sweet "baby E". She's quiet, and that gets confused for meaning a whole bunch of things it doesn't actually mean about her. But she has plenty to say, and I like to hear it. Erica is hilarious and so fast with her whit that you almost never see it coming. She hails from a long line of singers, but when she opens her mouth to sing herself it is uniquely Erica. She's never been one to push her way into limelight, but the tough thing about that is how long it sometimes takes for others to see you can shine. Shine she does. Erica just turned nineteen. She's a woman now. Tears fill my eyes just to type that, but she is. The older she gets the more I want to know her. I love her so, and I really, REALLY like her, too.

fuzzy faces of Erica and me a bazillion days ago

Cher S.

A few words about Cher: Good grief, what can I say? It is absolutely not dispensing of platitudes for me to say there is no other in one's life like a sister; simply no other relationship like it. Cher is my older sister and for a very, very long time she has been a dearest friend. I have always known that she loves me fiercely, that she is for me, that she is there for me. There's enough age difference between us that we were never in school together. We were never in competition with or against each other for anything. We've just always been the "Ross girls", the only daughters of Terry and Susan, and it's a kinship we both adore. She let me tag along (mostly) growing up, and her friends became my friends, too; our friends. We borrowed clothes from each other and still clean out our closets from time to time and take the loot to each other. It's difficult to adequately explain the ease of relationship I have with Cher as we continue to "grow up" and live our adult lives as women, wives, moms, and the thousand other roles in between. Just the other night I got off of the phone with her (which is rare because I loathe the phone and try never to talk on it...I know, I'm weird) and thought to myself how easy a conversation it was. The content is not always easy because life keeps throwing its punches, but the way we talk, the way we listen, is aging so well. We just get to be us. There aren't many places in the world like that, and it's priceless to me. Cher is so talented in countless ways. Some of the talents are right out there for the world to see like singing and acting, but these just scratch the surface of her abilities and giftings. She is funny - especially when telling a story - and smart. She is loyal and thoughtful and kind in so many ways. She has been a good wife to a good man for twenty-four years. She has raised - is raising - three sons and a daughter that are becoming phenomenal people. I could just go on and on, really. But at the end of the day what I think impresses me the most about Cher is that she is mine; my sister. In all of her other roles and titles no one else will ever call her "sister" but me. And I could never ask for one better. I love her.

Without any further ado, their interviews . . .

1. Occupation?

Erica: I am a hostess in the Savannah Room at the Georgia Center.

Cher: It depends on the day.  Most of the time I’m a mom and wife, but sometimes I pose as a music minister and a theatre actress.

2. How did we meet/how do we know each other?

Erica: I'm guessin' we met in the hospital after I was born. You're my favourite aunt, duh.

Cher: It was a dark night and all I know is I was whisked away in the middle of the night to go stay with my babysitter while my parents went to the hospital to have a party without me, from which they brought home a prize of a person called a sister.

3. Single or married?

Erica: Not single, not married.

Cher: It depends on the day. Ha! I’m married for almost 24 years.

4. What’s the greatest thing about being single or married?

Erica: Being single is for losers. Kidding. Being married sounds fun but Lord knows I'm not ready for that.

Cher: To know that someone really loves me, that there is somebody there for me, with me along the way.

5. What was your first vehicle?  Love it or hate it?  Why?

Erica: I may never know. *cries*

Cher: My first vehicle was a 1980s blue Oldsmobile.  I got it when I got married.  I didn't know any better so at first I loved it.  But when the ceiling fell and dust flew and the steering wheel started to smoke, I began to loathe it.  It didn't help that “Just Married” was permanently etched into the side of the car where shaving cream had eaten away the enamel on our wedding day. 

6. Beach or mountains? Why?

Erica: Beach. It's tradition and there's so much to do.

Cher: Beach because it is a place from our childhood, and because of the generosity of our grandparents allowing us to use their condo I’ve been able to take my children there basically their entire lives.  But I prefer the clothes you wear at the mountains.

7. Darkest time of your life?

Erica: The dark times seem to come and go but don't ever really go away. Since high school I've struggled with self harm and self esteem issues. I suppose junior and senior year was the darkest time though. Kids are brutal and going to school just made it harder to cope with what I was already feeling. I also was far from God at that point and dealt with things in ways I shouldn't have. Dark times still surround me sometimes and I feel so depressed and could easily slip back into the way I was in high school, but those times are temporary and God's always there to pick me back up when I fall. He's a constant light that just shines brighter when it gets gloomy.  

Cher: I don’t know that I have a darkest time.  Yes, I have had a lot of things happen to me in my life. I just think that my darkest times come when I lose focus so that when my head hits the pillow I am beating myself up and thinking negatively about myself or my life.

8. Happiest childhood memory?

Erica:  Haha seeing Raven Symone at Six Flags. It was one of the coolest things I ever got to do. But there are many memories from childhood that make me happy.  

Cher: Days when we would record songs and radio shows on the little red cassette tape recorder, pile on mom and dad’s bed, stay up late to watch Night Trax, even getting Jessi in trouble.  My happiest childhood memories always involve Jessi 

9. What would people be surprised or shocked to know about you?

Erica: People that I've opened up to have found it shocking that I was never really happy during high school because I was usually the dork making jokes and laughing. Really though there's nothing shocking about me, I'm usually pretty open.

Cher: That I’m shy.  Nobody believes that. And I adore cats.

10. What work of art (book, music, etc.) has heavily influenced you?  Why?

Erica: Ellie Goulding and Demi Lovato's music has changed my life. Ellie's music is so positive and just good, it makes me feel better and inspires me. Demi's music usually tells a story, some that I can relate to and it's such a help to know that I'm really not alone in how I feel sometimes and I can sing about my feelings without having to feel like I'm straight out of High School Musical.
Cher: I can’t go a day without music in general.  When I feel down or dark music is my go-to. I genuinely feel closest to God when I sing.

11. Favorite place you’ve traveled to? Why?

Erica: South Korea. I love the place and the people. I don't have a specific reason why I love it so much but I would go back in a heartbeat.

Cher: Amsterdam, Holland. Even though it was just for a whirlwind day, it whet my appetite to go back.

12. What brought you to the city you live in now?

Erica: My dad's job and switching to the school he teaches at.
Cher: My husband has taught school there for nearly 30 years, and we finally took the plunge to live there six years ago. We live in the "red light district": down the street with the only red light in our town.

13. What is your favorite trait about yourself?  Why?

Erica: I like that I'm funny. I'm usually really insecure but I know sometimes I'm dang funny and I love to make people laugh and laugh myself. I'm a female Jerry Seinfeld.
Cher: It depends on the day, for real. Sometimes I like to pride myself in being intuitive…

14. Vintage or brand new?

Erica: Vintage. I used to be so against it but now I'm like ayyyyy (Fonz voice)  

Cher: Vintage, or brand new and then I turn it into vintage.

15. Fill in the blank: It’s quiet and no one is around.  I think I will __________.

Erica: . . . walk around the house singing like I'm performing for a huge crowd and/or blast all my embarrassing music that I would otherwise get made fun of for.
Cher: . . . sing.

16. What would you describe as one of your biggest triumphs in life?

Erica: Overcoming self harm and graduating. Two things that no one really thinks twice about were two of the biggest obstacles in my life. I honestly thought I wouldn't make it to graduation because of how dark I thought things were.

Cher: Probably that I have been married as long as I have and that I have four kids that are seemingly great people and don’t need therapy…yet.

17. City or country?

Erica: City.

Cher: I love the city, but I prefer to live in the country.

18. If today was your last, what three things would you do?

Erica: Spend all my money on a plane ticket somewhere with the people I love and eat sushi till I want to vomit.  

Cher: I would want to be with ALL of my family. I would want to listen to good music, maybe even family singing together. I would like to hold Eric’s hand while I die.

19. Fast food or “just say no”?

Erica: Sometimes you just need a huge heap of extra salty fries from McDonalds.  

Cher: Oh, yeah, I gotta have a little bit of both in my world.

20. If you got a tattoo (or another one) what would it be?

Erica: The next tattoo I want is Micah 7:8. "Though I fall, I shall rise; though I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be my light." 

Cher: It would be a big ol’ tramp stamp.  No.  I could never get a tattoo.  I’m afraid of needles.