The lights dimmed as we sunk into the cushiony chairs. Only minutes before I had been perfectly positioned in my prime viewing location. That was before the lady asked me to move over one seat...and then three more.
"Sure. No problem," I responded. I hoped she couldn't see that I was actually a little perturbed, even though the rational me knew that it was the right thing to do. My unobstructed view was gone, but "whatever"... I was resting my tired feet after three days of walking around New Orleans.
As the lights dimmed, she leaned over to me and whispered, "Thanks. I'm with Wounded Warriors, and I'm not sure this crew is gonna make it to the end. Have you heard about the movie?"
"Only that everyone says it's amazing."
"Okay. Then I won't ruin it for you."
I gulp. What have I gotten myself into?? We're about to sit through "Beyond Boundaries" in 4D at the National World War II Museum. That fourth dimension is what makes it so powerful and startlingly realistic. With Tom Hanks and a slew of other familiar voices narrating, we are given a play-by-play of my grandparents' war. When the tanks thunder across the screen, our chairs vibrate. At Christmastime, snow gently flutters down on us from the rafters of the theater. We are inside the jungles of Japan, and the factories of America. It is phenomenal. And heartbreaking. We see the Western Union telegrams delivering the news that no wife or mother ever wants to hear. Tears rolling down our face, the woman turns to me, "It's beginning," she sadly states, and nods toward the young girl sitting next to her.
Yes, I said young girl. She appears to be in her 20s, African American, with a perfectly styled pixie-cut and large dangly earrings that swing back and forth as she crumples under the weight of it all. Her jacket is drawn up to her face. Whether she is hiding from the images or trying to hide her emotions, I'll never really know. Probably a little of each. Her escort asks if she wants to leave, and up and away they go.
The movie continues, and I know that "the bombs" are going to be dropped soon. The woman to my left whispers conspiratorially, "Look at him. He can't stop moving." Sure enough the young man several seats to my left is in constant motion. He's drumming his fingers on his knees as if to will his legs to stay put. Then his feet join in the rhythm. He taps his heels on the floor, alternating...LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT. He looks like any other twenty-something. An attractive white guy in a ballcap, he resembles the boy-next-door. My newfound movie buddy excuses herself, goes to him, and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Finally, it is too much. As a former pilot describes the scent of burning flesh after dropping a bomb, he is gone.
I expected to see veterans at the World War II Museum, but not these kind. Fresh off the battlefield, scarred with so many unseen wounds. My heart ached for their lost innocence . On the screen, I watched the tickertape parades as the troops came home. Where were these soldiers' tickertape parades? Visiting the museum, I was awed by the ways in which our entire country came together to triumph over seemingly insurmountable odds. The work ethic and dedication of the men, women, and children of that era rightfully earned them the title "Greatest Generation." However, I believe that there are some pretty GREAT people in this generation, as well. So, on this Veteran's Day, I vow to remember and thank not only those who bravely served our country 70 years ago, but also those who are risking their lives TODAY on the battlefields of the world, to protect our freedoms and continue the fight for "justice for all." Their sacrifice and loss is no less than that of the Greatest Generation. Today, these Forgotten Heroes shall be remembered by at least one more wife and mother who is eternally grateful for their service.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Ten Things... For my daughter on her tenth birthday
My sweet Anna Grace,
Today you are TEN years old! A decade. 3,653 days (including leap years). 87,672 hours. Approximately 5,260,320 minutes on this Earth. In keeping with the theme of TEN, I thought I would share with you ten things that I pray you come to know and remember in the coming years.
Today you are TEN years old! A decade. 3,653 days (including leap years). 87,672 hours. Approximately 5,260,320 minutes on this Earth. In keeping with the theme of TEN, I thought I would share with you ten things that I pray you come to know and remember in the coming years.
- Anna Grace. Anna means "full of grace." Your name is redundant (both of your names mean the same thing). You will mess up. So will everyone else. May your doubly graced name remind you to both accept and give grace in abundance.
- Purpose. Many people spend their lives searching for their "purpose." I say you already have a purpose: Love God. Love People. It is as easy and difficult as that. This will look different at different times in your life, but the purpose remains the same.
- Travel the world. This will show you both how small you are and how big is the God we serve. You will begin to fathom the awesomeness of a God who knew you (one of seven BILLION people on this Earth) even before you were in my belly. "Before I made you in your mother's womb, I chose you. Before you were born, I set you apart for a special work." Jeremiah 1:5
- Show compassion. When you were two years old and we were living in Texas, your preschool teachers told me, "If anyone in the class is hurt or sad, Gracie (as you were known then) runs across the playground to comfort them." The world is a much larger, less kind playground. Remember when you see someone hurting, it is still okay to run to them across the playground...or lunch room... or gym... or classroom... or country and love on them.
- Friends. Choose your friends wisely. In the coming years, you will see paths diverging as your peers choose different routes. In regards to your closest confidantes, choose the friends who choose to follow Jesus through their words and actions. A true friend will build you up and encourage you in your walk with Christ. I pray you will do the same. "Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm." (Proverbs 13:20) Others will ridicule you for your faith and your decisions.
- Love them anyway.
- Laugh. Give yourself permission to have fun and laugh. Life is serious enough. When laughter presents itself, embrace it. There will be plenty of occasions when you are not sure whether to laugh or cry. Laugh.
- Challenges. You will encounter obstacles. You are a very bright young lady. School has been relatively easy for you. Your homework is getting more difficult. It will continue to do so. Allow yourself permission to learn, and then celebrate those accomplishments. If you already knew it all, you wouldn't need to go to school. Try to remain calm, take a deep breath, and remember that it is okay to ask for help. It's also okay to not always get it right. This will help you in life, as well. Nobody knows it all. That's why God gave us each other.
- Boys. I have a lot to say about boys, but will save much of it for a later letter. First, keep an eye on the boys who love Jesus, who love people, who are kind and helpful to everyone. Keep an eye on the other boys, as well. I'll elaborate on them at a later date.
- Call your mom and dad. You don't have a cell phone yet, but I know the day is coming. Texts are fun and easy, but moms and dads need to hear your voice. Though you are looking more and more like a woman each day, to us you are still the little girl in pigtails with a tiny backpack ready for her first day of preschool. Humor us. :)
Anna, your daddy and I are so proud of the young lady you are becoming. Your freckle-faced, braces-adorned smile makes my day. You continue to surprise me with your mature insight into friendships and life. You are the biggest animal lover I know. It is a joy and privilege to parent you (yes, even when you declare that I am "ruining" your life- I know you don't mean it and I figure it means I'm doing something right). Growing up is hard. Emotions get a little crazy as you assert your independence and I learn to let go. That's okay. We're gonna love each other through it. Thanks for being my Gracie Girl. I'm so glad God trusted me enough to give me the best job ever, Anna Grace's mom.
Love,
Mommy
Sunday, September 15, 2013
One Word... Hope
"Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man."
-- Victor Hugo
When asked by Compassion International to write three things about one word this week, it took me all of one half second to decide. HOPE. If you read last week's blog, you know that I used the verse Jeremiah 29:11 to emphasize that God has a plan... for us and for these children.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Hope frees. The opposite of hope is hopelessness. Despair. Disbelief. Discouragement. When hope fades, the clutches of death (both spiritual and physical) grow stronger. By sponsoring a child through Compassion, you begin the process of freeing that child from the shackles of despair and extreme poverty. You free that child from the bondage of illiteracy and the heavy weight of responsibility and worry that so often haunts these children.
Hope gives. When the shackles are broken, hope gives wings to dreams. It encourages ambition, and fans the flames of aspirations. It breeds confidence and the powerful realization that things can be different. Hope gives these children the opportunity to write a different story. Not only does sponsorship change the lives of children, it also changes the lives of their families. Most every parent wants the best for their children. In a letter from Juan Guerrero, a coordinator for the student center where Rudy (one of our sponsored children) attends, he writes, "I can see the joy on the faces of mothers when they realize that their children will have the opportunity to learn, to have medical check-ups, and to play in a safe environment, and much more." Hope gives joy to parents, often when they need it the most.
Hope saves. Jesus is the hope of the world. Children in Compassion projects receive attention to physical, cognitive, socio-emotional, and spiritual development. They are taught about the hope we have in Jesus Christ, and His unconditional, sacrificial love for them. As Guerrero writes, "I can tell the difference when families know that even in the most desperate situation, there is a God who loves them and wants to protect them and to provide for them. Families who have accepted Christ in this community have a different perspective. They can see things under a positive light and know that their needs will always be met."
There is a story about a little boy walking along the beach and picking up starfish, who are struggling to survive, and throwing them back in the water. An older gentleman comes along and says, "There are so many. You'll never be able to save them all! What does it matter?"
The little boy responds, while throwing another starfish back into the water, "It mattered to that one."
Please take the time to think and pray about sponsoring a child through Compassion International. You have the power to give HOPE...one child at a time.
Click on the link below to sponsor a child today...
Monday, September 9, 2013
To My Younger Self...
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| First Grade |
As I sit in the corner of the classroom, surrounded by a study carrel and immersed in my own imagination... I write. I am six years old, and Miss Turner is my hero. While everyone else is working on I Don't Know What, she lets me slip away into a world where I am most at ease. She encourages me to enter my first writing contest. Thirty years ago, she recognized a need to differentiate in the classroom before anyone knew the definition of the word. She is still my hero, and if I could go back and speak to my six year-old self I would want me to know...
1. ...that I need to hug Miss Turner more.
2....that God loves me and has a plan for my life, and that Miss Turner will unknowingly play a vital role in that.
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| It was sixth grade. Please pardon the bangs, pre-braces teeth, Miami Vice collar, etc. |
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| Such great memories with this ragtag bunch! |
In college, I would begin writing again. I would use written assignments to satisfy my need for creative expression. I would meet an art professor who recognized a gift that he had no reason to acknowledge. No, I had not excelled in the art studio. Quite the contrary, unfortunately. I was a hard worker, however, and somehow still earned my "A". One of our final assignments was to write about an aesthetic experience. Hallelujah! I wrote about an experience in Italy the summer before while visiting the castle where the Mona Lisa was supposedly painted. He stopped me after class to speak to me about my writing. He wrote on my assignment, "You have an amazing gift. I hope you continue to use it." All of these years later, I still have that paper. For the longest time, I wasn't exactly certain why I kept it tucked away. Once again, I would tell my college self, "God has a plan."
During my senior year of college, I would learn that the boy who had asked me to his church youth group back in high school... the boy with whom I had experienced a break-up of EPIC proportions... was living in Guatemala and managing medical missions and relief teams. God would gently nudge me to send him an e-mail... and the rest, as they say, is history. During our first year of marriage we would visit the internet café in Antigua, Guatemala, where he first received "the" e-mail. I would tell that college senior, "God has a plan."He did. And He does. He led my husband and I to a country thousands of miles away from our own. A beautiful country filled with lush, fertile soils and mountain peaks shrouded in fog. A country with the tallest corn I have ever seen, and the biggest, strangest insects. A country whose people dress in every color of the rainbow... all at once. A Mayan culture whose gentle, sweet spirits match their colorful attire. Then, God decided to mess us up. He showed us "the least of these." Poverty and violence. Children whose parents were killed in the civil war, and others who were abandoned. Sadness and hopelessness in the midst of some of God's greatest handiwork. Suddenly, we could not ignore the call of Jesus to care for "the least of these." Through Compassion International, we have sponsored two children from Guatemala (one boy, age 7, and one girl, age 9) for the past two years. When I write to these children, I am often led to Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
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| Delivering vitamins and a Bible story to the beautiful people of Xepatul, Guatemala, on my first trip there in 2000 |
I want them to know that God loves them and that God has a plan. His love is deeper than the deepest oceans and is theirs for the taking. I want them to know that the same God who numbered the stars calls them, His children, by name. I pray that they have a Miss Turner, Mrs. Rydell, Mr. Art Teacher Whose Name I Forgot (gasp!) encouraging their gifts and talents and acting as the hands of Christ in their lives. They deserve it. I want them to know that they are our Creator's masterpieces, exquisitely crafted and worthy of His best. Through Compassion, they have these opportunities. I treasure the letters and photos we receive from them. My spirits are buoyed by the way I see them growing in their relationships with Christ. The updates we receive from their pastors and the directors of their schools reiterate the fact that Compassion changes lives.
Oh, and guess what? I'm finally writing again. This time, as a Compassion Blogger working to find sponsors for as many children as possible. What you are reading right now is one of those blogs.
God has a plan.
He is still at work, and He isn't finished with me yet.
He isn't finished with you yet.
And He is just beginning His work in these children.
YOU can be a part of the hope and future of these children! Please share this post and click on the icon or link to become a Compassion International sponsor today!
Monday, August 19, 2013
First Day Jitters, Biker Gangs, and Father of the Bride
My babies started school today. Nevermind the fact that they are seven and nine. They are still my babies. You mamas and daddies understand. I found myself on the verge of tears last night as I packed lunches, filled water bottles, and set out clothes for the first day of school for my second and fourth grader.
Don't get me wrong, IT IS TIME for them to go back. We need structure. Our carefree, sleep until whenever, vacation-taking days must come to an end. An especially rough couple of weeks in July made me question why we were not on one of those fabulous year-round school schedules. The crazy train had left the station and I wished I could hop on and wave to my loves while wishing their daddy "good luck." But then there were the other times...
You know, the times when we sat down as a family to eat dinner AND EVERYONE STAYED PUT. For us, this is most easily accomplished at the lake. No one rushes to finish and join friends. The doorbell doesn't ring with friends wanting to play. We just sit and eat and talk. About the big stuff. Things that matter. Topping physical nutrition with a sprinkle of spiritual sustenance. We'll have other moments like that this year, but I'll miss those summertime talks on the deck.
As much as I love the family time at the lake, I will also miss all of the neighborhood kiddos bouncing in and out of our home (and vice versa). We have a small army of children in our 'hood. A lot of the mamas stay home, and the kids literally boomerang around the neighborhood...eventually returning home. I love feeding lunch to half the neighbor kids and hearing about their adventures. The boys jump their bikes on ramps they construct in the dirt piles, go fishing, and make crazy Instagram videos. The girls make water parks in the backyard and hook up the battery-powered Gator to the wagon in order to haul the younger siblings around the 'hood. This was the first summer that both of my children were old enough to roam the neighborhood with fewer parent-imposed restrictions. They were a pint-sized biker/scooter gang who only stopped long enough to refuel and rehydrate. Showers and baths? Well, that's why God gave us the neighborhood pool. Will I miss the messes? Heavens, no. But I will miss the giggles and screams (okay, so not the loud piercing ones) that come with them.
Last night Steve Martin's line from "Father of the Bride" came to mind as I was readying our offspring for another First Day of School,
were are very long. I still recall the days when we had been up all night with our baby girl or colicky baby boy. I remember seeing the sun come up and thinking, "This is going to be a looooong day," as Matt would leave for work. It has been nearly a DECADE since those days with my daughter.
And so as they posed for those obligatory photos this morning, and we gave hugs and kisses while they happily scampered onto the busses with all of their neighbor buddies, there was a small pit in my stomach. This is the last "First Day" that both of my kids will be at the same school until they reach high school. I said a prayer for each of them, knowing they were ready and in the very best of hands. It is going to be a fabulous year, and I intend to soak up every moment. God has amazing plans, and I can't wait to see what He has in store.
As the last bus pulled away, my husband looked at me and the other parents, smiled, pumped his fist and shouted a celebratory, "Yeehaw!" First Day of Second and Fourth Grade. Check.
Don't get me wrong, IT IS TIME for them to go back. We need structure. Our carefree, sleep until whenever, vacation-taking days must come to an end. An especially rough couple of weeks in July made me question why we were not on one of those fabulous year-round school schedules. The crazy train had left the station and I wished I could hop on and wave to my loves while wishing their daddy "good luck." But then there were the other times...
You know, the times when we sat down as a family to eat dinner AND EVERYONE STAYED PUT. For us, this is most easily accomplished at the lake. No one rushes to finish and join friends. The doorbell doesn't ring with friends wanting to play. We just sit and eat and talk. About the big stuff. Things that matter. Topping physical nutrition with a sprinkle of spiritual sustenance. We'll have other moments like that this year, but I'll miss those summertime talks on the deck.
As much as I love the family time at the lake, I will also miss all of the neighborhood kiddos bouncing in and out of our home (and vice versa). We have a small army of children in our 'hood. A lot of the mamas stay home, and the kids literally boomerang around the neighborhood...eventually returning home. I love feeding lunch to half the neighbor kids and hearing about their adventures. The boys jump their bikes on ramps they construct in the dirt piles, go fishing, and make crazy Instagram videos. The girls make water parks in the backyard and hook up the battery-powered Gator to the wagon in order to haul the younger siblings around the 'hood. This was the first summer that both of my children were old enough to roam the neighborhood with fewer parent-imposed restrictions. They were a pint-sized biker/scooter gang who only stopped long enough to refuel and rehydrate. Showers and baths? Well, that's why God gave us the neighborhood pool. Will I miss the messes? Heavens, no. But I will miss the giggles and screams (okay, so not the loud piercing ones) that come with them.
Last night Steve Martin's line from "Father of the Bride" came to mind as I was readying our offspring for another First Day of School,
"I suddenly realized what was happening. Annie was all grown up and was leaving us, and something inside began to hurt."Something definitely hurt. The days are long, but the years are short. I've heard it many times, but its truth hits home more each year. Some days
And so as they posed for those obligatory photos this morning, and we gave hugs and kisses while they happily scampered onto the busses with all of their neighbor buddies, there was a small pit in my stomach. This is the last "First Day" that both of my kids will be at the same school until they reach high school. I said a prayer for each of them, knowing they were ready and in the very best of hands. It is going to be a fabulous year, and I intend to soak up every moment. God has amazing plans, and I can't wait to see what He has in store.
As the last bus pulled away, my husband looked at me and the other parents, smiled, pumped his fist and shouted a celebratory, "Yeehaw!" First Day of Second and Fourth Grade. Check.
Had a great first day!
Sunday, June 16, 2013
The Worst Father's Day (So Far)
It is mandatory quiet time in our house. That is because my poor husband, the father of my two dear children, has had perhaps the worst Father's Day ever. Not so awful in the grand scheme of things, but not the best in terms of the Facebook/Pinterest world in which we now live. Pastor Steve Furtick once said,
Let's go behind the scenes, shall we?
To start the day, our six-month-old black lab puppy began barking sometime around the six o'clock a.m. hour. So much for anyone sleeping in on Father's Day (nevermind the fact that I was also up at 4:45 a.m. with our semi-neurotic 11 year-old lab who thought he needed to go outside and hunt or whatever)! Matt said that he would "puppy-sit" since he is the morning person in our family. It's just not my gift, although I was willing to try it for him in light of the whole Father's Day thing. Not long after the puppy's awakening, our two little (human) cherubs bounded down the stairs...
It's Sunday which means... we go to church. If we are in town, not sick, and didn't attend a Saturday night service, we go to church. Pretty much always. My children seem alarmed and surprised by this. Every. Single. Week. Kid #1 planned ahead and was showered and ready at a reasonable time (evidently she learned from a devastating debacle a couple of weeks ago- and I learned that it takes time to get the "bumps" out of your ponytail, so give her fair warning). Her dear younger brother, however, alerted us to the fact that showering and church were not on his very busy six-year-old agenda... even on FATHER'S DAY! Cue the screaming and gnashing of teeth. We made it to church, but not without a detour. Okay, so it really wasn't a detour. It was an abrupt stop along the side of the highway during which Daddy informed the children that spitting water from their cups on each other was not okay and neither was complaining about having to stay in Lifekids (our children's church) while Mommy and Daddy served on the host team (Host Team: involves smiling and welcoming everyone as if our household didn't fight its way out the door this morning).
When we arrived at church, one of Grant's good buddies from school and his family were there visiting for the first time. GOD. BLESS. THEM. Seeing his friend, G seemed to turn his attitude around. Everything was peaches again. Fast forward an hour and forty-five minutes later. Daddy chooses our lunch spot, Freebirds (because, OH YEAH, It's FATHER'S DAY!!). Matt thought it would be quick, and allow us more play time at home. As you might be able to predict at this point, this was not somewhere G wanted to eat. Of course! Big sis wasn't on board at first, but when I reminded her of the day, she hopped on. After some nourishment, everyone seemed more even-keeled. Hallelujah!
We followed up our meal with a trip to Southern Ag to check out the leopard geckos because my little man has a birthday in just SIX DAYS! I guess I neglected to mention that the little guy seems to be having a bit of trouble giving Daddy a day when he has a birthday in just SIX DAYS! Did I mention that he has a birthday in just SIX DAYS? If I did, there is a little guy in my house who will be happy to share the news. Every hour or so.
What have we learned from today? Well, I think it has proven to reiterate what I decided a few Mother's Days ago. Lower the expectations. Every day is a gift, and we have two little blessings whom God entrusted to us EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. There are days when everything falls into place and we feel like Supermom and Superdad. And then there are the days when we find ourselves pulled over at the side of the road confiscating Tervis cups and we must remind ourselves that THIS, TOO, SHALL PASS. Just because it is Father's Day or Mother's Day doesn't mean that we get a break from parenting (Unless, of course, you are not around your children on said day. Six years ago, I informed Matt that the only thing I wanted for Mother's Day was an uninterrupted day of shopping. I spent five glorious hours away, bought only a pair of shoes, and returned ready to face another day of mothering my then three-year-old and 11 month-old.). I have learned that the kids didn't get the memo about not fighting on Father's Day. Neither did the dogs (I hear the puppy terrorizing her "big brother" as I write this). Someday we will laugh about this, right?!? Or at least pour a glass of wine, clink glasses, and congratulate ourselves on making it through another day.
Our pastor at Lifechurch.tv, Craig Groeschel, often speaks about how when God calls us to something, he often leaves out the details. Why? Because we simply couldn't handle them. We couldn't handle the raw, unfiltered truth of parenting, so He spoonfeeds us over time. Our two-year-olds test authority because... hold your horses, parents, the teen years are coming! And we just couldn't handle them. Yet.
The truth is that with God and my awesome husband, we will get through this. I am so utterly thankful that he asked me to that high school Homecoming dance almost 21 years ago. I can't imagine a better father for my children or a better-suited partner for this journey. I love him because he fought for me when we were apart in college, because he chooses to work from home to be near us, because he pulls the car over to discipline our kids when needed, and because he loves on them daily in words and deeds. He is an incredible example of integrity, perseverance, and love for our children. He works hard and he plays hard, and we love him to the moon.
Happy Worst Father's Day, honey! Here's to next year!
P.S. As I was getting ready to post this, our puppy chewed up one of Grant's new Keens (shoes) while Anna was supposed to be watching Fern. Anna was on her iPad. So long, iPad. Gotta love parenting. Did I mention that it's been raining all afternoon, as well????
"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate."
Psalm 127:3-5
"The reason that we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else's highlight reel."
Our Facebook-worthy pic of our gloriously wonderful Father's Day
Let's go behind the scenes, shall we?
To start the day, our six-month-old black lab puppy began barking sometime around the six o'clock a.m. hour. So much for anyone sleeping in on Father's Day (nevermind the fact that I was also up at 4:45 a.m. with our semi-neurotic 11 year-old lab who thought he needed to go outside and hunt or whatever)! Matt said that he would "puppy-sit" since he is the morning person in our family. It's just not my gift, although I was willing to try it for him in light of the whole Father's Day thing. Not long after the puppy's awakening, our two little (human) cherubs bounded down the stairs...
It's Sunday which means... we go to church. If we are in town, not sick, and didn't attend a Saturday night service, we go to church. Pretty much always. My children seem alarmed and surprised by this. Every. Single. Week. Kid #1 planned ahead and was showered and ready at a reasonable time (evidently she learned from a devastating debacle a couple of weeks ago- and I learned that it takes time to get the "bumps" out of your ponytail, so give her fair warning). Her dear younger brother, however, alerted us to the fact that showering and church were not on his very busy six-year-old agenda... even on FATHER'S DAY! Cue the screaming and gnashing of teeth. We made it to church, but not without a detour. Okay, so it really wasn't a detour. It was an abrupt stop along the side of the highway during which Daddy informed the children that spitting water from their cups on each other was not okay and neither was complaining about having to stay in Lifekids (our children's church) while Mommy and Daddy served on the host team (Host Team: involves smiling and welcoming everyone as if our household didn't fight its way out the door this morning).
When we arrived at church, one of Grant's good buddies from school and his family were there visiting for the first time. GOD. BLESS. THEM. Seeing his friend, G seemed to turn his attitude around. Everything was peaches again. Fast forward an hour and forty-five minutes later. Daddy chooses our lunch spot, Freebirds (because, OH YEAH, It's FATHER'S DAY!!). Matt thought it would be quick, and allow us more play time at home. As you might be able to predict at this point, this was not somewhere G wanted to eat. Of course! Big sis wasn't on board at first, but when I reminded her of the day, she hopped on. After some nourishment, everyone seemed more even-keeled. Hallelujah!
We followed up our meal with a trip to Southern Ag to check out the leopard geckos because my little man has a birthday in just SIX DAYS! I guess I neglected to mention that the little guy seems to be having a bit of trouble giving Daddy a day when he has a birthday in just SIX DAYS! Did I mention that he has a birthday in just SIX DAYS? If I did, there is a little guy in my house who will be happy to share the news. Every hour or so.
What have we learned from today? Well, I think it has proven to reiterate what I decided a few Mother's Days ago. Lower the expectations. Every day is a gift, and we have two little blessings whom God entrusted to us EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. There are days when everything falls into place and we feel like Supermom and Superdad. And then there are the days when we find ourselves pulled over at the side of the road confiscating Tervis cups and we must remind ourselves that THIS, TOO, SHALL PASS. Just because it is Father's Day or Mother's Day doesn't mean that we get a break from parenting (Unless, of course, you are not around your children on said day. Six years ago, I informed Matt that the only thing I wanted for Mother's Day was an uninterrupted day of shopping. I spent five glorious hours away, bought only a pair of shoes, and returned ready to face another day of mothering my then three-year-old and 11 month-old.). I have learned that the kids didn't get the memo about not fighting on Father's Day. Neither did the dogs (I hear the puppy terrorizing her "big brother" as I write this). Someday we will laugh about this, right?!? Or at least pour a glass of wine, clink glasses, and congratulate ourselves on making it through another day.
Our pastor at Lifechurch.tv, Craig Groeschel, often speaks about how when God calls us to something, he often leaves out the details. Why? Because we simply couldn't handle them. We couldn't handle the raw, unfiltered truth of parenting, so He spoonfeeds us over time. Our two-year-olds test authority because... hold your horses, parents, the teen years are coming! And we just couldn't handle them. Yet.
The truth is that with God and my awesome husband, we will get through this. I am so utterly thankful that he asked me to that high school Homecoming dance almost 21 years ago. I can't imagine a better father for my children or a better-suited partner for this journey. I love him because he fought for me when we were apart in college, because he chooses to work from home to be near us, because he pulls the car over to discipline our kids when needed, and because he loves on them daily in words and deeds. He is an incredible example of integrity, perseverance, and love for our children. He works hard and he plays hard, and we love him to the moon.
Happy Worst Father's Day, honey! Here's to next year!
A bit more accurate pic of how the day unfolded
P.S. As I was getting ready to post this, our puppy chewed up one of Grant's new Keens (shoes) while Anna was supposed to be watching Fern. Anna was on her iPad. So long, iPad. Gotta love parenting. Did I mention that it's been raining all afternoon, as well????
"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate."
Psalm 127:3-5
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