Both my daughter and my son are having a full and stress filled week. A VERY full and stress filled week. Sleep is going to come at a premium.
It’s “tech week” for a show PinkGirl is teching. She’s not performing in this show. She’s one of the people wearing all black who works behind the scenes and helps keep things moving smoothly during a show, no matter what the need. That means rehearsals every night this week – for her own show Monday/Tuesday night and rehearsals for the show she’s teching Wednesday/Thursday night. The show opens Friday night and additional showings are Saturday night and Sunday afternoon.
FavoriteSon is in the final week of his spring semester and he works as a tutor, so he literally did math for over 12 hours on both Monday and Tuesday, either learning it or teaching it. He has two finals today and another paper due tomorrow. His week started after an exhausting (but great) weekend. Saturday the weather was rare and perfect on the ocean, so he and his dad got up at 5am to go on a PHENOMENAL fishing day on our boat.
They got home late and stinky. Then, he got up Sunday at 6:45 to run sound for the K-5th grade worship services at his church from 8am to 1:30pm. (He does that every Sunday.) He spent his Sunday afternoon writing a paper and finished off his weekend tutoring a friend till late Sunday night.
It’s only hump day and both PinkGirl and FavoriteSons are already tired. This means one thing. They both need grace from me this week. (And from my husband, but he is admittedly better at patience and giving grace than me. I’d like to think it has something to do with the fact that due to his work schedule, I see the kids more hours in a day, but the fact is, he’s more easygoing than I am.)
Giving grace takes prayer. Some might say it takes patience.
Because I knew cranky was coming. I knew frustrated snark was in my future.
I’m still praying. For patience like manna. My schedule is pretty calm these days, so I ordered my week in anticipation for their growing exhaustion by making myself available to help them. Little things, like picking up some of their chores, typing a handwritten paper, putting healthy snacks down in front of them, prepared and ready to eat, pushing them to go to bed when they are still worked up from their day, and praying for them and with them for strength and stamina, among other things. Praying for myself to be able to give them grace in response to cranky snark.
Some might say I’m a patsy.
If this happened all the time, I’d entertain that thought. But it doesn’t. It’s rare and temporary. Both these kids and my husband are there for me when I need them to pick up my slack or help me out, and I don’t take that for granted.
Is someone in your life dishing up a full helping of cranky snark?
I don’t just assume I can muster up patience and grace on my own.
I already know I can’t.
Pray for patience and for God to bless you with a supernatural ability to extend grace. His grace is sufficient in your weakness and He is glorified when His strength is visible in your life.
The other day, someone asked me if my kids grew up “churched.”
The pause before my reply was noticeably long.
I was thinking.
What does that mean? I realize my personal background and filters contribute to my way of thinking, but no definition I could come up with made it seem like growing up “churched” would be a good thing. Merriam-Webster defines it as:
adjective: “affiliated with a church.”
Well. That’s vague.
The word has connotations. Through my personal filters, adding “ed” after the word church makes it reek of religious knowledge and practices, not relationship with Christ.
So, if growing up churched just means my kids grew up knowing the traditions of church – whatever church or religion that might be, then yes, they grew up churched. They know what a call to worship is, they can sing the doxology, they know what to do with an offering plate, they know the different ways to take communion and what an alter call is. They know what the Apostles’ creed is and they know the Lord’s prayer doesn’t end with the words “with liberty and justice for all.” They can follow the verse order of a hymn and even though they both have searchable Bible apps, they can find a scripture in a Bible with paper pages by it’s reference. In more contemporary churches, they know that a worship service usually begins with what we in our family affectionately term a “giddyup Jesus” song, and they know why this video is funny.
So, if all that means my kids grew up churched, then yes. My kids grew up “churched.”
Some might say, “Well, it’s better than nothing.”
Here’s the deal. If all that stuff is a precursor to a personal decision for Christ or an expression of a growing relationship with Him, then yes. It is better than nothing.
BUT, if all those things are part of their life instead of or apart from a growing relationship with Christ, I don’t necessarily think growing up churched is better.
It might actually be worse.
I’ve personally met so. many. people. who grew up going to church and as an adult, have not only abandoned church, but faith altogether.
A few months ago, I asked God to break my heart for what breaks His. (CLICK HERE to read that post – and if you ever think about praying that, brace yourself.)
One clear and constant answer has been the fact that so many people have turned away from faith in Christ without ever really knowing what it is.
Who He is.
Growing up churched has kept more than a few people from relationship with Christ because they think that all those things I mentioned about church is evidence of a relationship with Christ.
Not always true.
That’s what I was thinking during the extended silence that followed the “Did your kids grow up churched?” question.
But when I broke that silence, what did I say?
“uhhhhh. Well. We took them to church if that’s what you mean.”
I am so articulate sometimes.
The truth is that despite all their knowledge and understanding of religious practices, my kids never heard the gospel explained in kid language at the church we attended. Hell was too scary for kids and Jesus was a role model, not a Savior. Discussions about asking Jesus to come into your heart? The Holy Spirit as a helper after you ask Jesus to come into your heart? No. (By the grace of God and through an extended, painful revelation process, we now understand that we need to be part of a Christ-centered church.)
We went to church on Sunday mornings, did a few summers of VBS, went to some fall costume parties, some Christmas breakfasts with Santa and some Easter egg hunts. Sunday school was mostly Bible stories and crafts. VBS was a rotation of Bible stories, crafting sessions and outdoor games interspersed with music, snacks and cute videos with moral and ethical messages.
They learned that God loved them. They learned they should help people. They learned God wanted them to be “good” like Jesus. They learned that they should give joyfully.
But my kids first learned about having a relationship with Christ from my husband and I. Because we knew that our faith couldn’t be theirs by force or wishes, we prayed that the Holy Spirit would draw them to Christ, and we told them about Jesus. Through our lives – our words and our actions – they saw what faith in Christ really is – a relationship. They knew Jesus loved them – no matter what – just like we loved them. We prayed with them, we did family devotions together, we were authentic with them about the lessons God was teaching us, we listened to their problems, their fears and their joys and we continuously helped them to view and navigate all three through faith in God.
By the grace of God, they both accepted Christ at a very early age. By the grace of God and equipped by the Holy Spirit, we did our best to disciple them as they grew in their faith.
We enrolled them in Christian school because we wanted them to learn as much about the Bible as they did about math, science, history, spelling and English. When they moved onto middle school and began building on that Bible knowledge and learning theology, we actively engaged them in discussions that helped them figure out and ground themselves in their own beliefs, some of those beliefs different from what were being taught at school. As my son has grown older and graduated from high school, he’s come to some beliefs that differ from his mom and/or dad. (No surprise, mom and dad don’t always agree either.)
Regardless of the tangential beliefs we each have, we share faith in Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord. All four of us depend on the Holy Spirit to equip us for the life we live, striving to follow the Father’s will.
My husband and I are confident that each of our children have their own faith in and relationship with Christ. We pray for those relationships regularly.
But “Did your kids grow up churched?” is a yes or no question. There wasn’t time to think through all that, much less say it.
Hence the blog post.
Posting this a week late, as usual…
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Who else would have to eat these one line at a time?
Shopping for a new blender because we smoothied ours to DEATH.
This is my favorite amazon.com review so far:
Pros: It blends. I can make protein shakes with this blender. Cheap.
Cons: Does not clean itself. Does not make my drinks for me.
I LOVE shopping online instead of in a store.
Free shipping and coupon codes make it even BETTER.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Yo, FirstHusband. Taking the power supply from a laptop that can’t hold a charge is like taking a crutch from someone with a broken leg.
Listening to my husband sing “Let me sleep on it” softly as he’s putting away groceries.
This is what happens when he drives his son’s muscle car and listens to classic rock.
FavoriteSon: This smells disgusting!
Every time I think something died in our garbage disposal I look next to me and there’s BROCCOLI.
FavoriteSon: “Watching the Superbowl commercials early on youtube is blasphemous.”
Meanwhile, there’s a Doritos commercial coming up that reminds me of this one:
This one made me laugh.
Monday, February 3, 2014
I’m chaperoning PinkGirl’s 7th grade trip to a “coastal classroom” on an island in south Georgia later this week.
FirstHusband went with FavoriteSon when he was in 7th grade so I’m getting some info.
Apparently, there will be a night hike.
And supposedly, “snakes are in hibernation this time of year.”
Going over the packing list for the trip I’m going on with PinkGirl’s 7th grade class. My least favorite item on the list? “Plastic bag for muddy clothes. (clothes may come home very muddy and wet!)”
There was no floor laying this past weekend.
My flooring shipment was somewhere north of snow & ice.
26 boxes of flooring will be here tomorrow between 1 and 4pm.
I think I’m going to get a free pallet or two as a bonus.
Me: “There’s no floss down here.” (two story house)
FirstHusband: “yes there is.”
Me: “I am NOT using the bubble gum floss. (pause)
Why do we even HAVE bubble gum floss? How old is it?”
But did I throw it out? no.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Make homemade marshmallows. #thingsiwillneverdo
Teacher: “Who wants to be in charge of bringing cups to the snack party tomorrow?”
Teacher: “okay. and who wants to bring homemade brownies?”
That’s my girl.
Least favorite task of the day complete:
taking a double bagged diarrhea sample to the vet.
“Legal fees, jail time and loss of business make the sale of humans a less lucrative trade. Regardless of the verdicts, raids and arrests send a message to the local community that sexual slavery is not acceptable. When we apply pressure to the trafficking mechanisms from a legal standpoint, we slowly force modern-day slavery into the category of higher risk and lower reward. This is potentially one of the greatest steps we can make as a community fighting this injustice.”
(to read the full article, CLICK HERE)
It occurred to me that coffee at a “coastal classroom” might be…less than optimal.
This is going to be a disappointment, isn’t it?
Wednesday, February 5, 2014 (at the CRACK of dawn)
The coffee pot is fully loaded.
none of that half-caf, half-decaf nonsense today.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Breakfast is at 6:30am.
At 5am, a cell phone alarm goes off. (set for the previous morning)
Seconds later, it goes off again.
The 3rd noise is multiple voices calling the cell phone owner’s name in a fruitless attempt to wake them up, followed by “SOMEBODY POWER IT OFF! ” and “ARHHH”
It’s now 5:45am and the cell phone owner is still asleep.
“Somebody WAKE HER UP! Her cell phone woke US all up at FIVE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!”
PinkGirl, coming in the chaperone room to change: “you have clean floors in here. You don’t find that a lot out there.” #suburbgirlproblems
My kinda field trip. Even it is cold and windy. #ilovemydaughter
Thank you God that it is NOT raining.
Thank you God for the rain jackets I bought and brought.
so. cold. so. windy.
Cumberland Island Guide, talking about the Carnegie family:
“How did they make their money? I’ll give you a hint. Pittsburgh.”
Teacher, under her breath: “steel… steel.”
PinkGirl, exuberantly: “They would STEAL IT!!”
Me: “not that kind of steel, babe.”
Answer: terrain and wind chill.
Question: what is it about an 8 hour hike on a coastal island that exponentially kicks my butt more than a 14 hour, 25,000 step, park-hopping day at Disney theme parks?
How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?
The correct answer put a group 1st in line for dinner.
PinkGirl nailed it.
Everyone else had to stand in line in the freezing cold and sprinkling rain.
Facing the Giants. #dry #warm #tired
Friday, February 7, 2014
God is good, all the time.
It’s been one of the longest, shortest, frustrating, rewarding, heartbreaking, hopeful, disappointing, hopeful 3 days of my life.
Kids who love Jesus,
kids who need Jesus and are looking for him
and kids who keep themselves so distracted they have no idea how much Jesus is jealous for them.
Praying this trip remains a stone in their shoe.
Praying that the Holy Spirit would draw them closer to Christ.
PinkGirl after coming home from a 3 day trip to a “coastal classroom” in Georgia: “I’m gonna take a shower.”
FavoriteDad: “A warm shower?”
PinkGirl: “The water in that shower was either like the inside of a volcano or where the Titanic sank.”
true. there was a very, very small window on that shower dial where the water didn’t burn you alive or freeze you to death.
I was complaining about an incompetent vendor billing error.
PinkbGirl, dramatically gesturing: ” Mom. Let it Go. Let it Go.”
FavoriteDad: “You know, you can never legitimately say “The cold never bothered me anyway” ever again.”
PinkGirl: ” It’s metaphoric, Dad.”
I’ve been in the sauna.
I’ve taken a shower and washed my hair
and I’ve written some alternate lyrics to “My Favorite Things” that I’m calling “Suburbanite Things”
Toilets with knee room and floors with clean carpet
Light bulbs that light things and wi-fi and Target
a king size mattress, complete with box springs,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Sinks with hot water and unfrozen throne seats
Paths free of horse scat and clean shoes and warm feet
Ground with no incline, wind with no sting
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the cold bites
When the wind stings
When I need a heating pad,
I simply imagine suburbanite things
And then I don’t feel so bad
To see more previous facebook update and compilation blog posts, CLICK HERE.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Me, to PinkGirl, who was head down in her iPad: “Whatcha up to?”
PinkGirl: “Talking to people.”
Me: “Who ya talking to?”
PinkGirl: “What difference does it make?”
Me: “When I’m on the phone, what do you always ask me?
PinkGirl, grinning: “Who ya talking to?”
Me: “When I’m texting someone, what do you always ask me?”
PinkGirl, rolling eyes: “Who ya texting.”
Me: “So, who ya talking to?”
PinkGirl: “Mama, you know what I realized? Owl is a narcissist, Rabbit has OCD, Piglet has anxiety, Pooh has an eating disorder, Eyeore has depression and Tigger has ADHD. (pause) Kanga and Roo…I don’t have anything for them.”
FirstHusband and I CRACKED up. The music was a dead giveaway.
(And he’s either a bachelor or his wife was NOT home.)
Me, to PinkGirl, who’s in the shower: “Do you have a towel?”
PG: “no” and after I give her a towel: “Thank you!”
Me, to PinkGirl, who is walking upstairs wrapped in her towel: “Please put on your wrap and hang up your towel.”
PG: “I’m going upstairs to get dressed.”
Me: “yes, I know. Please put on your wrap and hang up your towel, so that the NEXT time you take a shower, your towel will be AVAILABLE to you….and I can see you mocking me.
PG: “Yes, but I did it with a smile.”
Check out what my FavoriteHusband made with scraps of 2×4 today. #pinterest #honeydo
Saturday, January 26, 2014
The distance between being a target & praying for the shooter is so much shorter for my daughter than myself. #sweetestbedtimeprayers
Monday, January 26, 2014
I’m going to be painting walls this week and my brain will be idle, so I’ve decided to spend the time in prayer. Is there anything I can pray about for you? Message me. You don’t have to tell me exactly what to pray about if you’re not comfortable sharing – God knows.
I shared a facebook updated by Mandisa:
“Yesterday #Overcomer won a #Grammy for Best Contemporary Christian Music Song and Album…and I wasn’t there. My reasons why might surprise you. I wrote about it here.” –> http://wp.me/p3Gq0r-cE
Listening to PinkGirl sing mouth guitar to this while I’m painting.
Day One of painting complete. The big red wall is gone. Both cats are still black. Success. In case you missed it, here are the photos so far: (click the photo to see the post with all the photos)
13 year old PinkGirl, at the beginning of watching this video: “What’s this puppy doing? I’m intrigued.”
I love hearing my kids use words like this in everyday conversation. #ilovemydaughter
Clearly, my socks are broken.
And we need to replace the sliding doors in this house.
Bank decided to replace our credit card.
1st vendor I updated?
My amazon.com 1-click, of course.
Then paypal, then…2 hours later…I hope I’m done.
Chili 2 ways tonight – white bean chicken & traditional (but with ground Healthy Choice sausage because I’m out of ground beef) and cornbread. oh. & Beano for an appetizer.
Both my men will be in the house with me all day tomorrow. I, of course, will not need it. I always smell like books.
It is NOT okay to be mean to someone & then act like it never happened. It’s dysfunctional. Own it. Apologize.
Even if it’s uncomfortable.
What a PHENOMENAL story of God’s providence!!!
I hate it when Ernest is sick. (Ernest is my laptop.) His battery transplant from Ebay has shipped. Meanwhile, I’ve been tethered to an electrical outlet for days.
FYI, Ernest got his name from the following book quote:
“For some reason, everyone thinks, ‘I should know how to write.’ No one thinks, ‘I should know how to play the piano.’ But when it comes to writing, ‘I should know how to do it.’
What if I told you a story about a man who buys a piano, sits down to play for the very first time and is shocked when he doesn’t sound like Arthur Rubinstein?
‘I don’t understand,’ he complains, ‘I’ve listened to lots of music, I should know how to play the piano.’
Ridiculous you say? Yet there you are: Banging away at the typewriter, you’re mortified when your work isn’t as good as Ernest Hemingway’s. Hell, it isn’t even as good as Ernest Goes to Camp.”
from “If You Can Talk, You Can Write” by Joel Saltzman
To see more previous facebook update and compilation blog posts, CLICK HERE.
PinkGirl became aware that I said “dammit” in my blog the other day.
I have a 12 year old censor. and she. is. bossy.
meanwhile, she thinks it is hilarious to tell me she “shipped her pants.”
the fact is, I grew up with a mom who used “colorful” language.
rationalizing Julie says, in comparison, “my colorful language is pastel.”
cuz that is so much better.
I sometimes cuss in my head.
sometimes. my head leaks out of my mouth.
and my colorful vocabulary is limited.
mostly to the “d” word and the “h” word.
those are in the Bible, right?
FirstHusband: “maybe so, but do you want your daughter to say them?”
every once in a while, the “sh” word comes out with a “no” in front of it.
I definitely don’t want my daughter to say that.
I think the “a” word and the “b” word are crass.
and I really HATE the “f” word.
In full disclosure – I am sure I’ve said them all.
having grown up with colorful language, I can tell you that it takes intentional effort to find alternative colors.
but back to the brain to mouth leakage.
if we are acquaintances, you will witness no leakage.
if we are friends…
it’s possible. you may witness leakage.
do I think such leakage is acceptable?
oh. look. another failure.
besides. if you know me, you know I hate pastel colors.
so I’m watching Tim Hawkins list 101 curse words Christians can say.
my favorites are:
shut the front door.
fer cryin out loud.
or external silence. with internal cussage.
and there it is.
I’m not going back to the colorful blog post and deleting the color. It would be a cover-up. a lie.
if you want perfect, you shouldn’t read this blog anymore.
there’s no perfect here.
[CLICK HERE to see a listing of all the blog posts in this series “the search for Joy.”]
If you put your kids Christmas gifts in unmarked boxes, you can get them to wrap their own presents.
FavoriteDaddy reading The Hobbit to PinkGirl last night.
Here’s how PinkGirl’s volcano science project turned out yesterday:
If you’ve been around for a while, you might remember FavoriteSon’s volcano project. Here’s an excerpt from that blog post:
We end up at Michael’s craft store with four packages of quick drying clay, a terra cotta pot and . . . a rocket engine. Yes. Michael’s sells rocket engines. FirstHusband is smiling and FavoriteSon is explaining how there really IS a type of volcano that explodes like that . . . The boys spend all morning Saturday wiring and soldering. Then they go into the backyard to test it before they make a terra cotta pot LOOK like a volcano. It works. It explodes. I look at FavoriteSon and say, “When you get sent to the office on Monday, give them your dad’s work number so he can explain how that’s perfectly safe.” . . . Then it’s tested again, this time adding sand to the top of the volcano so it shoots dirt up into the air and looks even more realistic . . . either FavoriteSon will be suspended or he will get an “A” on this project. (postscript: he got an “A”)
So. This time, explosives are NOT an option. PinkGirl has the same science teacher FavoriteSon did. No playing the “I had no idea” card. But PinkGirl wanted “a BIG explosion.” How to do that without ignition? FirstHusband wanted to buy a portable compressor, but his attempt to justify the expense by coming up with other things to do with it after making a volcano explode?
So my father (SuperPappy) suggested the shop vac reversed. The lampshade idea came to me during a severe allergic reaction to crafting after my husband said the words “paper mache” to me. We picked out a dirty, torn lampshade and got a 25% discount. Final Sale. No returns.
No problem. Crafting avoided.
As you can see, the explosion was a HIT. The ash went higher than the fence.
Here’s the written report PinkGirl wrote to accompany the volcano shown in the video:
“Volcanoes are amazing things of nature and only God can create them. Still for my project I tried my best and I also had fun while doing it. From deciding what type of volcano mine is or what type of eruption it will have it was a fun learning experience that I would love to tell you about.
The First thing I did was paint the lampshade (which is my volcano). It was actually a lot harder than I thought it was going to be because I had to mix paint to find the right color. The second thing I did was cut a hole in the box big enough for the pipe. Then I cut the top of the lampshade out with bolt cutter. (It was awesome!) After that I measured and cut the pipe to the right size with a hack saw. (My dad helped a little for this part but I did cut with a hack saw.) Next I glued the pipe to the adapter and cut the small pipe to the right size and glued it to the adapter and the elbow of the other pipe. Then I put another hole in the side of the box and put the side pipe in it. Next is my favorite part. I put coal in a bag and crushed it with a hammer. After that I poured the ash and coal in and covered it with saran wrap. Then I painted the box green and put the “Snow” on the volcano. The last step was decorating it with little touches to make it look better.
During the process of building my volcano I learned all about Composite volcanoes and plinian eruptions. Composite volcanoes are made out of ash, tephra, and lava. Plinian eruptions are violent and have lots of ash and poisonous gasses. Mt. Saint Helens was a composite volcano and had a plinian eruption.
I always thought a volcano just meant lava and smoke but I now understand that volcanoes are much more complicated than that. God must have had fun designing and creating volcanoes. He is a very creative God who has an amazing imagination. Volcanoes are dangerous magnificent things that create new land, give us dazzling treasures, and really open our eyes to show us how marvelous our world really is. I can only imagine what other planets are like.
Me: “PinkGirl, you know what time it is?”
Me: “Time to lay out your clothes for school tomorrow.”
extreme, dramatic faux fainting
Me: “And pack your lunch.”
and just like that. Summer is over.