Seeking Him Together Bible Study: Week 3

~What part of this study or what Scripture has been most helpful to you thus far in understanding what revival means in your life? Why?

Probably what has impacted me the most is the study around how pride, specifically false humility and anxiety/worry, plays a role in my life. Revival means l.e.t.t.i.n.g. g.o. of the things I ruminate, cogitate, or mull over. And it's great to see that I'm educable--that God is bringing me thru this muck. Because if left to my own devices, I'd just spin wheels ad nauseum, or think myself to death. And to what end? I don't think so. I will stumble and fall at times, but it stops here. Another piece of this question is answered in studying honesty, which was emphasized this week. We were asked something to the effect of, "So, Gretchen, and fellow studiers, do you try to make yourself look better than you are?". Me? Never. Well...there was this one time. Like when I clean like a mad woman before company comes, and everyone in the family wants to kill me because of my lovely rantings of "why can't you pick up your_______?!!!" and "This house is a MESS! How do we live this way?" Yeah. Here's a secret: I'm not the best housekeeper, and I wish I were. But I don't do a whole lot until there is literally a fire burning beneath me. A fire of pride and dishonesty. Look, I'm not saying I should open my door to company with tons of dirt and clutter, but really? I don't prioritize cleaning, and my life reflects that. We're hygeinic, but cluttered. My floors have vacuum streaks about once a week, not every other day. Sometimes my feet have goobers on the bottom of them from my kitchen floor due to a lack of sweepage. It is what it is. And there was this other time...

yeah.

Why is the above helpful in my personal revival? Because it focuses me on my needs. And when I'm thinking of my needs, I focus on the Cross. When I'm prideful here, or dishonest there, I see also the need to repent, thus opening the gate to the Father's loving acceptance and abundant grace.

~What can we do to create greater freedom in the Body of Christ to be honest with each other?If there's something more you'd like to share with us this week, please do!

We (I) can stop creating an atmosphere of judgement (whether real or perceived), and start sharing ourselves. We can chat with others about our hang ups, pitfalls, strongholds. But sharing is the first piece. After that, we need to repent, and move forward. I had a Weight Watchers leader who once said, "If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always got." Obviously, wanting to lose weight is a lot like wanting to stop sinning in any particular area. It's a nice thought. But until we confess completely, and receive forgiveness, we'll never move forward. Also, for a ruminator like myself, the key is actually in the moving forward. Being so assured of God's presence and grace that I know I'm forgiven and can l.e.t. i.t. g.o. After the sharing and the letting go...we can pray for protection and for just enough faith to make it through one more day.

As always, thank you His Girl and Melissa at Breath of Life for hosting this study.

Gladitude Monday

Well, it's not officially, officially summer yet, but I thought the red, white, and blue worked nicely for the holiday. Happy Memorial Day, everybody. God Bless America.

Whidbey Island, WA is a treasure for our family, and we've been blessed to have a beach house there for almost 2 years. I thought it might be fun to do a pictoral Gladitude, showing some of my gladdy mcfavorite things about Whidbey. You'll notice that eating is a pretty high priority.

The Bayview Farmer's Market.

We usually get cheeeeeese, Grommit!

And on occasion: An incredible, edible, marionberry, gladariffic pie.

Then, sometimes, we go to Mike's Place, for desirable edibles, such as chocolate chip pancakes, huevos rancheros, turkey club sandwiches, and omelets. But we try not to go to Mike's for the same meal as the farmer's market. Ahem.

Oh, look! Another restaurant. Does Gretchen cook at all? This one serves green eggs and ham. Shall I count the ways it makes me glad? Moving on...

The Clyde Theater makes me ever so gladdy! We just saw Monsters and Aliens last night. $6 for adults, and $4.00 for kids, I think. Popcorn starts at $1/bag. Drama was asked by the theater owner if she wanted to start the movie last night. How often does that happen at the metroplex? Of course the movies are about a month old, but we're usually not the first to the theater, anyway.

Whales make us all glad! We haven't seen a gray whale for a while now, but we don't give up trying! Also, it's fun to look for seals and sea birds, too. The kids (and most of these "urban" shots) are in Langley, a town about 4 miles from our house. They roll up the streets and shut down the town at 9 p.m., but we likey.

Of course there's hardly anything that gladifies us more than going beach combing. When the tide goes out, we can walk out at least a 1/2 mile, and look at things like crabs, heron, and these live sand dollars, below. When alive, they're inky black. Poor crabs are dead, but don't they make for a great picture? :)
Below: Mr. Bald Eagle. My favorite animal to see on Whidbey. This guy was pretty far away, so the picture isn't great, but I LURVE SEEING THESE on the beach and near our house. Majestic.

Finally, a fun tradition, started last year is building a driftwood fort. Last year, as you may recall, we built Ft. Stinky--so named after the stinky fish and seaweed.

Yesterday, after many failed attempts, a bruised thumb (me), bruised unmentionables (David), we went home and built up energy and momentum.

Today, I give you, with all the gladitude in my heart:

The FS II.

Drama took a picture of me in all my unshowered, cowboy hatted glory.

Gladness.

Blessings, all!

More Stray Thoughts with Gretchen

Thought 1: My kids no longer want to read aloud with Mom. Cue Snoopy's waaaaaah! Deep breath. Well, we do still read together. But only sometimes. Rarely. Dang those outside influences like school, homework, TV, and extra curricular activities. I'm ready to read Watership Down, and I'm facing a couple of avoiders. Rabbit loving avoiders, too which is strange. And I'll have you know, you bloggy friends, you (and I say that in my sweet, non bitter tasting tone of voice) that I'm a good reader alouder. I do the voices and everything.


Thought 2: I'm a fairly "live and let live" gal. Things may bother me, but generally speaking, I try not to pout, point, or judge when it comes to other folks' business. But, I'm sorry--I do not need my morning latte served "Coffee, Tea, or Me?" style.

I thought I'd share the wealth of what one of these lovely establishments looks like. I'm sure the 20 years ago me would give my 40 year old self a slap and tell me to "snap out of it!", but I just can't. Yes, I can try to avoid these establishments on our Thursday morning coffee runs, but really? Really? Should I have to explain these to my kids? How about "Pasties on Mon and Wed!". Even if we don't stop at one of the strip joints , we see them on every drive we take around the city. How do you explain the young girls denigrating themselves for tits tips while serving c.o.f.f.e.e. ? I just want to hand those girls a sweater and a hug and tell them to go to school, get good grades, and that they are worth so much more than this. I want to tell them that their Father weeps for them. That He loves them extravagantly. That He has something so much more special for them than this. Sorry, I know I'm soap-boxing. Still. What's next?

Thought 3: I feel like summer is upon me, and I'm just starting to realize it. I need to start fleshing out our plans/schedule for when we'll be here and when we'll be either vaca-ing or living at the beach house. Funny how we think summer is such a l-o-n-g stretch of time, when it goes as fast as every other part of the year. Of course by mid August, I'll be singing a "I am so ready for school to start!" tune. But right now, it feels as though it's sneaking up on me, and I have the "behind" feeling. I'm tempted to insist on a mandatory first week of rest (thank you, Mer, for that vision), but VBS is that week. Perhaps we'll just nap in the p.m.s. After being among 500 sweaty little bodies, focused on Jesus, we'll be tired. Okay, I'll be tired. Other than doing tutoring (I know math doesn't really stink, but my daughter thinks it does), and the stray trip to see friends/company for a few days, I don't really have anything carved in stone. Phooey on the "behind" feeling after all. Hmmm...maybe where I'm at is just okay. Thanks, Bob Newhart, I feel so much better.

And one thing's for sure. Summer brings more time to read. To myself.

Blessings on your weekend. Many of you are dealing with stresses which grieve my heart. Know that I'm praying for each one.

Seeking Him Together Bible Study: Week 2

1. How are worry & anxiety expressions of pride rather than humility? Worry and anxiety stem from thinking about how things will be within my own power. They indicate that somehow I have the power to change the universe. What pressure! Further, it seems that worry and anxiety point to a lack of faith/trust that my future is secure in the truths of the Living God. Doing anything within my own power (in the Kingdom of Me) is contradictory to total dependence and surrender to God. We are to do nothing without Him, and are to abide in Him each day. The Lord's Prayer (Matt 6:9-13) reminds me to ask even for my daily bread. Just enough to get through today. Make a daily, mustard-seed commitment to God, and He'll provide the rest. To His glory. And, as we know, worrying about tomorrow while living today doesn't help anything: "each day has enough trouble of its own."(Matt 6:34)

2. How did God speak to you as you went through the list of "proud vs humble" people?

He broadened the definition of "proud" in my head. I knew, but didn't k.n.o.w. that it's prideful to be grossly independent and/or self-sufficient. When I'm completely self-reliant, I interfere with others' abilities to serve in God's stead (with their God-given talents and gifts). And of course the idea of having "rights" is ludicrous, the more I think of it. Sounds just as misled as "deserving" one thing or another (other than wrath, of course). Being raised by a single mom, a mom who was not supported alimony or much at all in the way of child-support, I was totally TAUGHT to be as independent and self reliant as possible. "Don't let a man support you..." "Don't rely on anyone; you'll just get hurt..." Hard to not hear those tapes in my head. But nothing's impossible with God. He's working with me on this, thankfully.


3. If you feel comfortable, share one expression of pride you have been convicted of in this past week. Why thank you for asking. I don't feel comfortable at all, but have my toes wet, so might as well jump in...

I had a small solo last week at church while serving on the worship team. I was so stinkin' nervous, from the time the worship pastor asked me if I'd do it (Wed night) to Sunday, right through my "performance". I know it's not "performance"; it's worship, but still. There's a performance factor, just as any preacher knows that any message has a component of "show" to it. Anyhoo...I'm a little discouraged because I identified these feelings as prideful: wanting to sound good, wanting to make sure that folks weren't distracted by my voice, etc. So I prayed over this, repenting for my pride, and assuring God that I was singing only to and for Him. I know I was obedient, and gave my all in worship to Him, but I gotta say, I didn't feel peaceful until I was finished with my solo. The other songs were peaceful for me, but not that one. I felt like I sounded horrid. I could hear the tremor in my voice. Again, the pride returns. Gaah!Realizing that He uses what we have to bless others and to glorify himself, I know that Sunday morning ended up okay. I rest in the truth that I surrendered my heart as best I could, and He tapped into the rest. This is an example--one of the many--of my feelings belying my spiritual truth. Can't always count on feelings. But I can count on truth. Apologies if this only makes sense to me.


Thank you again, Amber and Melissa for walking through the muck with us all. To victory, baby.

Gladitude Monday

10. Can i please have a gladacious Hallelujah and Amen for sunshine? We are in the low-mid 70s, complete with sunshine. Summer is here!

9. Glad that Drama and Daddy had a date at the ball park today. And that Big remembered sunscreen. Drama has heard her friends talking about baseball once or twice at school is a big fan of the Red Sox. Big got tickets to today's game without telling her and surprised her with them on Friday. He only "required" that she tell him: in which ball park "her" team played, and who her top 3 players were. Google was her friend. :) She and Big got great seats, and watched a really cool game together. I'm sure she won't remember the 3-2 Mariners score, as much as she'll remember the surprise and the garlic fries sweet time they shared.

8. So obviously, David and I had some time to ourselves after church. I had worked up a fine appetite whilst singing in the key-of-me on worship team, and David is a 12 year old boy--always hungry--so we went to Outback Steakhouse and proceeded to munch our way from one end of the restaurant to the other. We even split this for dessert.

I know...no dinner for us. And to those of you chocolate haters...I'm sorry for your loss. Musing to herself..."If I could hate chocolate, I could possibly be...smaller." :) We then went home and napped, then I learned to play Star Wars Role Playing Game (Sorry, Son, I did the best I could), and topped off our afternoon with Top Gun. Oh, I heart the Maverick. I do. And now that I'm older...Tom Skerritt gets a bit of a meow, too.

7. Normally, as you know, I'm neither glad about hard work nor sweat, but I have to say, we went to the beach house, and engaged in BOTH of those yesterday. Weeding, both pulling and torching, and painting the downstairs. I'm glad that we did these things because it reminds me that summer is afoot, and I am anxiously awaiting all the memories to be made there when the house is all gussied up.

6. Glad that we saw an incredible little choir this morning. Part of a home school co-op, and directed by a good friend of mine. They sing acapulco a cappella, which is hard under the easiest of circumstances, but especially with changing voices. They about brought me to my knees with "Come Thou Fount".

5. Glad that chocolate chips are small; however, not glad that they don't come wrapped separately. For when the bag is opened...sigh.

4. Glad for the Survivor finale tonight (yes, of course I'm auto posting). So glad Coach was cut loose. He gave me the heebie jeebies.

3. Friends, I'm going to be busy on Sept 6th, so don't mind if I don't call. I have to go see:

OH.MY.GOODNESS! I don't believe I've seen a good musical on stage since...oh, about 1977. Seriously, in our "day", Big and I would flit to musicals and movies like we were able, and even saw some amazing shows both in Denver, NYC, and London. But really...It's been a looooong time. So I'm happy mcglad for me and him. Perhaps I need a new outfit and shoes. Play along.

2. Glad that Memorial Weekend is coming. Amazingly glad for all who have given their lives in a military career which may or may not have resulted in the ultimate sacrifice for our country. I'll tell you a secret: some folk might believe that I'm a teensy leftward-leaning. While this may or may not be true, I lurve our troops and my country. Regardless of my views on any particular war or conflict in our country's past or present, I am so grateful for the freedoms which are afforded me by our military's (and each family's) sacrifice that I will always support our troops. My sister just enlisted in the NAVY this year. While I'm worried at times for her well being, I trust her decision, and could not be more proud. I urge us all to take a moment in the midst of our BBQ plans to pray for our troops, and for our world.

1. Glad that I have time to recover after the House and Grey's Anatomy finales, and that I can rest in the fluff that is The Bachelorette. Yeah, I know...deep.

Stray Thoughts with Gretchen:

Things you might overhear in my house...



"Mom, Dad says you're obsessed with blogging, Facebook, and Twitter. Are you obsessed?"



or



"Gretchen, do you really need 3 electronic social networks?"

Why, yes. Yes, I do. And guess what? Big actually tried Twitter for a while. Without.telling.me. And now he's a mocker. Because he felt like the updates on his fave sports figures were just too much. But he's not such a mocker that he's not helping me set it up and work it with my phone. He just happens to shake his head in resignation.





Support can be beautiful. I hear, anyway.

Moving on...

"Mom, I think it's pretty disturbing that you have a crush on (new) Spock."



"Mom, did you vote for Kris? I really like him. Vote for Kris. No, not Danny, Kris". (This after we assured them that we'd vote for Adam and another. I suggested Kris or Danny, Amber. Ahem.


And moving on. "What'djyado yesterday, Gretchen?"

Yesterday, I failed as the strong, stoic type. I took my daughter in to see the podiatrist after getting tired of hearing her complain several weeks of heel discomfort which was aggravated by her running in and doing all things track. Even though she only has 3 more meets, I feel like it's important to nip whateveritis in the bud so that other running sports aren't a problem (she had mentioned heel pain in the past when playing soccer). So, I took her to her primary doc, began PT, and scheduled an appt with the podiatrist. Yesterday, the podiatrist took an xray, and it seems little Drama has a stress fracture in her heel at the growth plate. I haven't read me no xrays since doing swallowing studies as a speech therapist many aeons ago. But I can see broken. Poor little duck. So, when we looked at this xray together with Drama Girl, the dream crusher doctor told her: no PE, and no track. Period.

Well, I tried. I knew, in watching that little face-trying-so-hard-to-be-a-"mature"-10-year-old-while-crumpling-anyway, that I needed to give a hug and be strong. Well, I got the first part. But dangitall if I wasn't tearing up, too. We know (and praise Him) that catching this when we did means she won't be in a cast. It means that for a month of her life, she won't be doing stuff she likes to do. She can try long jump (the probable culprit) when her bones have fused, and she can run in events until then. That really, this is small. But when you're 10, you want to be doing those lemming important things that your friends do. Yeah, the running is part of it, but you've just joined a new school this year, and you're just now feeling a part of the team. So, I cried for her and with her. For just a little. For I needed to drive, and only one person can be wrecked at a time in our family. That's my policy.

And then I prayed with her.

And then I made her laugh. Because that's what I do.

Lastly, I treated her with medicinal Starbucks white vanilla bean frappucino with a shot of hazelnut, and dropped her off at school.

The Plain Truth

I am all about living in truth.

Usually.

But this truth I could do without.

I am no longer cute enough (if I ever was) to leave the house without placing significant effort upon my appearance.

Of course I do leave the house on occasion, in shame, sans putting on my cuteness in its entirety. Because I'm a very busy and important person. I have places to be which don't wait for such effort to be applied. That's why I do it in the car. Kidding. No, I've given up mascara in the car. Now, it's just lipgloss. But changing that behavior was more about me being a safe driving example to my children, rather than actually seeking safety for myself. For we know the truism that it is better to look mahvelous than to feel mahvelous, Dahling.

Now, though...on those naked days, I'll catch a glimpse of my face in the rearview (or worse, a garishly lit store) mirror and turn away in horror at what I see. I wonder, "Who IS that woman who reminds me of an old aunt I never had. Boy...she might've had potential." I suppose it's been a gradual change. But lately, I'm noticing it more and more. Truth: I am just not cute without my mascara (foundation, blush, eyeshadow, eyebrow color). Nor am I cute in that wash and wear hair way. And for all of you who are, I say bless you, because somewhere along the lines, with SOMEthing, your time is coming--so I will refuse to be bitter. I have wavy hair, folks. Not curly. Not straight. And not evenly wavy, either. And, it's turning a dark, dank ashy blonde. When I have my good hair on, she can be veddy, veddy cute, but when she is bad, I look horrid. But cuteness requires blowing dry, use of product, straightening, styling my new bangs over my sun damaged forehead, and using more product. It's exhausting.

To quote Miss Truvy: "It takes some effort to look like this."

Evidently, I'd rather blog about it than actually do something.

Look, I lurve make up and hair products and nail polishes as much as the next girl. In fact, I used to BE a make up lady at Merle Norman, where I'd get you "off your feet and on your seat". Make up is my friend. Make up has a very important spot in my life. As a friend. But now...I see its ways. It wants to call me lover, not friend.

And I'm just not ready for that.

Better go do my hair...

Seeking Him Together Bible Study

I am joining Amber and Melissa in a Bible Study called Seeking Him--Experiencing the Joy of Personal Revival. For the next 12 weeks, I hope to post on Tue as if in "discussion". Feel free to join in, or not and comment, or not. :)

Here are the questions we'll be discussing for Week #1.

~Before beginning this study, what did you think "revival" was? Has your view changed? How?

I pictured tent-style revivals with a bunch of bible thumpers. Something which would honestly make me turn tail and run. And in my mind, those tent revivals had nothing to do with the already saved, but were all about bringing new folks to Jesus. But I had a niggling in my mind that "revival" didn't have to mean that. Of course my view has changed. I realize that revival is a bigger word than for what I had given it credit. The authors note that in order to be revived, one must already be born again, which made sense to me. It fits where I'm at right now: a sinner, saved by grace. In need of a reminder of God's great love for me, and in need of refocusing on the race which he has provided for me to run.

~What things do you tend to hold on to for security, even though they could easily be taken away?

I hold fast to my husband and family. To my "rights" and "privileges". To anything which has the stamp of pride, including, but not limited to "I'm right."upon it. I don't try to do this, but do it all the same.

~What does the idea that God initiates revival in His people tell you about Him? What does it tell you about yourself?

This idea tells me that God a) made us to need Him., b) knows that we will fall away from Him, even if we love Him, because of our sinful natures, and c) knows that when we're done fighting ourselves, we'll indeed need His revival of strength, courage, and grace in order to return to Him. Further, it tells me that no matter how far I've strayed, He wants me back, and wants me to abide in Him.

I tend to depend on my own devices far more than I should. I love God, but do not seek Him before all else. In short, I'm in need of His glorious revival.

Gladitude Monday

10. Glad it's Gladitude Monday again. Most of you know I sorta had a whacked out week for part of the time. I trust that maybe yours was whacked in places, too. This, for me elevates the need to be glad. Thankful for what I have right now. I'm trying desperately to become friends with contentment.

9. Glad that the Amazing Race ended with only a 2 tissue usage from moi. How did i become a crier at TV, folks? I really wanted Margie and Luke to win, but Tammy and Victor were my 2nd favorites. Not fans at all of the mean girl team. But you know what? One reason I have not applied to be on that program is my fear that I, too, would be a mean girl by the end of the race. But I sure lurve to watch.

8. Glad that my Mother's Day gift from Big was up to 2 days away on Whidbey or 2 days locked in our office doing quilting and scrapping. Most notably in either situation: I'd be relieved of all duties which did not include self care and bathroom usage.

7. Glad that (sigh) even though I won't be able to fly to Vegas this Memorial Day weekend to herald the 40th year of one of my besties, that we WILL do something special some other time. Simply, we got a late start in planning, and therefore everything was either over-sold, or over $$ for 1-2 nights away. Also, the baby sitter...she is unavailable. Glad that she knows we tried, and that it's not like I have to worry about wounding a friendship over this. But golly, I wanted to go.

6. Glad that Drama's first track meet is finished. Now we know what one is like. I got to time the runners. Even though she consistently came in dead last, eighth place, I'm so proud that she's trying something new, she cheers on all her teammates, and she gave it her best shot, despite some heel pain she's been having. She'll likely not be a varsity track star. But I never saw the smile leave her face.

5. Glad we saw Star Trek. Woo Hoo. I'm feeling a little faint for the young Spock. Meow. I know, I know...I could have birthed him. But still. I'm not dead. Great movie.

4. Glad for our libarry trip this week. Got some new fun, easy to please me fiction. I'm in some Bible studies right now, so that's taking most of my brain cells. For the left-overs, I just want to have fun.

3. Speaking of Bible studies...I'm participating in the Seeking Him Together study with Amber and friends. Join in if you like. It's about experiencing a personal revival of spirit. I'm in. One could say that revival is in order. :) I'll be posting about it here for fun and accountability's sake.

2. Glad for all the sweet love in the blogosphere lately. I trusted you all with some heavy stuff. Stuff I wasn't even aware I was going to write or post. But God is faithful (I'm in the surprised-by-God camp which Kellie has mentioned); don't know why I would ever doubt Him. He has strengthened, comforted, and directed me with your comments and prayers.

1. Glad that we are inching closer to summer days and peaceful, easy schedules. To cold salads in the fridge, and impromptu BBQs.

10 on the 10th: Mother's Day Version

I realize, today being Mother's Day and all, several of us might be posting about out moms or about motherhood in general...Cool. In this case, I don't mind being unoriginal at all, for we all do have motherhood in common, whether we have kids or not: we were kids. I was raised by my mom, with only small chunks of childhood spent with my dad, since they were divorced in 1975. Waaaaay back then (for you young uns who had yet to be born), it was typical for the mother to have custody of the children after a divorce. You could say I was also partially raised by my maternal grandmother, who came to live with us when I was 12. So today is a day in which I'll give 10 randomish things--both related to these ladies, and related to my own experiences as a mom.

Around...1989

10. I celebrate my use of idiomatic speech to my grandmother ("Grum"). I thought everybody used terms like, "half a bubble off" and "crooked as a dog's hind leg".




9. I learned sacrifice and making the best of a situation from my mom in some of our poorest times. We'd have "treat" supper. In other words, a Reeses peanut butter cup was a delicious and delightful dinner when she only had 38 cents in her pocket. Who was I to complain?





8. Never tell your mom a secret that you don't want your grum to know. And vice versa. I don't know why I never caught on to this. I really thought they were both such great confidantes. And in a way...they were. I think I told my grum I'd had sex (oh, be quiet) before I told my mom...perhaps knowing that she'd soften things for me.






7. BTW, losing the rest of my readership...my grum bought me a Playgirl mag when I was about 14. I literally had no idea what guys looked like, having been raised by wolves , and I was curious. I'll never forget her going into the Country Store to pick that up--probably along with a pack of cigarettes. Sort of like this post...couldn't j.u.s.t. buy the mag. And guess what...it was so gross that I've never had the wish to buy another. :)






6. My mom had a lot of problems. Goodness, mercy a. l.o.t. of problems. And I often think that God released her from her work here so He could care for her, since obviously, she was having a hard time caring for herself so. There were plenty o' days when I'd wonder (since she was self destructive) when she'd die, and how I'd feel. Would I be miserable? Would I be relieved? I thought, in all my 20-something wisdom, that I'd feel sad, but relieved. I was right. However, I don't think I counted on the depth of either of those emotions. Actually, I know I didn't. But to this day, I see the Hand of grace all over her death. Her life and death impacts me today, and I like to think...speaks into who I am.


5. I never knew that good dads were necessary in the raising of children until I saw one in action. This is not a slam against my dad; I'm over that, and we're fine with each other. Rather, it's a prop to my husband. He makes me a better mother by modeling patience, unemotionality (e.g. "not taking the bait), and perseverance with them. When I throw up my hands, he brings me back down to a "we can't give up on them" reality. A reality I know, but find so hard to achieve on my own all the time.


4. I am so grateful I could have children. Whether delivering them myself, or mothering through adoption, I knew I wanted to be a mom. And as my childbearing years draw to a close, adopting more, though probably unlikely, is a comforting thought.




3. I never knew how hard on myself I could be until I had children. Especially, I think, because I stay home with them. In other words, this is my only job, so I hope they turn out well. But I'm coming to grips with the fact that I can only do what I can do, and the rest is up to them. And God's grace and mercy, as well. If there's anything I miss from having a job, it's that rubric of satisfying an expected behavior or goal.



2. One of my favorite memories of my mom is her, in her bedroom, smoke thick, listening to Willie, Waylon, and the Boys or Joan Baez, and belting it out in the most off-key, joyous voice possible. She never understood that when wearing headphones, one shouldn't sing. Or maybe she did notice and didn't care.





1. I now know what "they" mean when they say, "Oh, enjoy it now! It goes so fast!" Usually when I heard that, my hair was falling out of it's hastily made ponytail, and my eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. But wow. It's gone so fast. And good, bad, and ugly--I wouldn't take a moment back. It's my story.

sigh...hurts so good.

Well, thank you for helping me look. I did find my brain. It was under the sink, right by the trash can. Ever since posting my "gladitudes", I've been in a battle of truth vs. how I feel about things. Thank you, Satan. You can go back to hell now, where you belong. I've been tempted. Oh, so tempted, to forget about truth and to allow Satan to trash my spirit by succumbing to my feelings of what's true, regardless of, you know, the truth of the matter. Maybe these feelings have crossed your mind. You know, those same type of feelings which say: "you deserve", "you're entitled", "you're worthless/worth more", "you'll never", "you'll always", "s/he'll never/always", and one of my faves, "Why can't s/he____?" "Why can't I______?".

Thing is...I can't just be satisfied with one battle...I have to battle God, too. Instead of clinging to what is noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy...I'm clinging to my pride and self pity. Having a grown up style tantrum and pout, if you will. Sticking my tongue out at maturity, and flipping off right choices. Narcissism in the highest. Ick.

As you can imagine, this has left me teary, and tired.

So, I've made the decision. Right now. At this moment. To fix my eyes on Jesus. For they've been off Him for too long. And to repent: I'm so sorry, Lord, for not putting my faith in Your ability to satisfy all my needs---ALL my needs. All the time. I know that I can trust you, and yet, I've leaned into my own devices. I am broken and ashamed. And ask Your forgiveness and mercy--knowing I deserve neither, but by grace receive them. I praise you, dear Abba, and ask you to wrap me in Your comfort, strength, focus, and peace. In Jesus' name. Amen.

Help A Sister...

Once again, I thank Sus, for I had never known I was a sister until reading her blog. And now I know.

Help a sister: FIND HER BRAIN!

Oh, please, I beseech thee! I don't know where it was last seen. I haven't heard from it in ages. Please. I need it. Really I do.

For I am...in severe lack.

Yesterday, after all the gladification, I had a day of vexation without representation (insert Church Lady--"Could it have been...Satan???"). Seriously. Here I am, all gladacious, and then, with no warning whatsoever:

• the fighting of offspring--which was not limited to, but included, the throwing of TV remote.
• the losing of video entertainment privileges of aforementioned offspring. Which hurt me more than it hurt them. After all, I had to stay up late to catch up on my shows.

Then, after 8 a.m.:

• our rescheduled guitar lesson was forgotten by our wonderful teacher. I lurve him, and would give him a pass no matter what...but you know...it just sorta threw off Stella's groove.
• because it forced us to go work out at the gym with the "found" time.
• And then I had to feed those people dinner. And I was tired.
• And then, I had to schedule a podiatry appt and PT for Drama Girl's pain-from-running-track foot. Which would've been fine, except...
• In a toot and panic, I called my neighbor to help bail me out since I.JUST.KNEW. I had double-booked DG's PT with David's commute to school. Sure, she was great with driving him to school. Ten miles from our house. In rush hour. I know...a saint.
• But then, I realized, that in looking at the schedule I had been looking at for the past 1/2 hour--there was no conflict.
• So I had to call Sweet Neighbor back. And tell her that I was just...high...or something, but that no...the panic call of 30 seconds ago was just a "psych!" from a psycho, apparently

So, if you see my brain...

Mercy! I've hit 200! Gladitude Monday

10. CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT???? AMBER MADE ME A BUTTON! In case the "all caps" button didn't clue you in, I'm so glad for my Gladitudes button! Please, feel free to swipe and use to your heart's delight. We thought about using "Gladitude Monday", but since I've seen some folks posting your gladdies throughout the week, I wanted to have a button that we could all enjoy. And if you're not a button type, that's groovy, too. But here's a gladdy mcsecret: she's made buttons for each season. Yay! And THANKS!!!!

9. Glad that Tuesday is "Honey-Comes-Home-From-Asia" day.

8. Glad that Monday marks a new week in terms of the: Gretchen's going to get with the program for cleaning, organizing, meal planning, and more healthful eating, etc. Yes, the list is long, but distinguished, my friends. Oh, the clean slate of a Monday morning. I actually heart you. Many scoff and mumble in your bleary-eyed direction. Not me. I'm a Monday morning enthusiast.

7. Glad for the authenticity of my blogging friends. You know...sometimes witty and fun is real, sometimes sheer joy is real, and sometimes finding no answers in the midst of our circumstances or being at the end of one's rope is real. Depends on the day, or sometimes even, the moment. At the end of the day, though, each of these ladies lays the good, the bad, and the ugly at the throne and praises God. And that's such an encouragement to my spirit, no matter what kind of day I'm having.

6. Glad for them. We were being adventurous-taking a little jaunt to Whidbey sans Daddy and, yes...H.i.k.i.n.g. Don't get too excited. It was a one mile hike, round trip. But it was very steep. I know this isn't a great picture. Trust me--we were full of not great pictures on Saturday. But the children were a) getting along and b) I needed to document that for future evidence. Evidence for what? I don't know. But it's important to be prepared.

5. Glad for Drama Girl's appt with the doc this a.m. to see what her heel pain is all about. She's doing the runny-mcrunner thang in track...and has complained consistently of pain. I'm anxious to see what the deal is--and to see a picture (I hope) of our pediatrician's new baby. I feel like I've raised this woman. I've seen her get married, and now, become a momma. Not happy for us that she's choosing to be with her child on occasion and thus only works part time. But happy for her. :)

4. Glad that David is going to get a hair cut. Soon. Because if he doesn't, I may sic my dog hair clippers on him. And that's just not right. Our rule is: either you groom yourself accordingly, with tools such as comb and gel, OR, you get a hair cut which requires neither. Can I have an Amen for all the mean moms out there?

3. Glad for a terrific time kicking up my heels with the girls last night. Got to go dancing/listen to a friend's band at a local "establishment". Wooty woo hoo. Danced my neck, back, and hips all into near spasm with all the 70s and 80s goodness of this band. Sung like I was on stage, too. Ahem. Made getting up to praise the Lord a trifle more difficult than I would have liked, but all good, all good. Even received a text from my hubs whilst boogie-ing--a query as to whether I was having fun. Yes...while I was getting my groove thang on, my hubby was suffering through a 2 hour massage in his Shanghai hotel.

2. Glad for such an amazing babysitter. Our lurvely gal lives directly across the street, and if that isn't enough, my kids adore her. She leaves David alone (good), and paints nails and chats with Drama Girl (really good). In fact, she's so good, that when I had to cancel her one night--Drama Girl cried. THAT'S a sitter. Of course...I then wonder...what's so bad about us? She doesn't cry when we leave.

1. Glad for grocery shopping. I know you can't imagine this, but Drama and I are a bit chatty at times. We learned a lesson at the grocery store: sometimes being chatty is boring for others! gasp! When I made the mistake asked how my cashier's day was going, I should've pulled up a chair and asked to stay for an hour. Drama Girl and I looked at each other and didn't say a word, but each of us knew what the other was thinking: medication required! quickly! or escape hatch! now!

Now, I'm not the type of person...well, yes, I do believe i am...scratch that. I was going to say that I'm not the type of person who requires a perfunctory, "fine" to "How are you?". But most of the time...I am. Especially in a setting like that. But there is a lesson or 2 here...First, sometimes folks just need to be heard. I suppose, I'll leave it at that.

Why I Wish We Had Fish For Pets

Fish don't require: grooming, affection, hypoallergenic food, allergy shots and meds, or exercise. However, the cuddling is pretty awkward and soggy with them. So, I suppose dogs will do. Here is Annie pre and post hairapy. I'm also known as the Dog Hairapist. Not to be confused with the Dog Whisperer. Though I can be heard whispering or yelling thru clenched teeth: "Get over here!". Especially in the drying part of the styling process. I am only taking one for the team doing her hairapy because we finally bit the bullet and invested in a lawn/yard service. So...I'm saving the $50 (before tip) by doing dog hairapy at home. No, please don't call me or ask for my card. My dance card is full.

BEFORE

AFTER

Actually, the above is only about 1/2 of the hair/fur. The other 3/8 is clinging to my grass and blowing around the yard, and the final 1/8 is of course in my lungs. No more feathers and no more Grinchy feet. At least until fall. For now, we'd like to leave the yard outside, where it belongs.

Overall, Annie's a good sport. We went directly from this torture up to the shower. I nearly broke out in song at the fun of showering with my dog. But let me tell you--it's much easier showering together than hoisting her into a tub.

And then...I washed the wiener dog. Murphy is such a good sport. And more importantly, he's light and fits into a sink. That's a score. He's currently waiting on the laundry pile for me (I really should say "a laundry pile", rather than "the") to take his pampered bod upstairs for bed.

So I will. Because I'm tired. For after these reindeer games, to what should my wondering eyes should appear but a 5th grader with math homework. Decimals, metrics, and conversions, OH MY!

Lest you think this post is over, it's not. I wanted to give my friend Andrea a shout. She's a work at home mom who is a brilliant writer, and is offering an on line writing class. She lives in LA, and has worked "in the industry" for years. Check out her background info and class info here.