Sometimes, you know...

Lately, I've been studying about knowledge of God versus my feelings about Him.  For example, I know that I need to forgive others, even if I don't feel like they deserve it, etc.  I know that God loves me, even when I don't feel lovable.  I know and BELIEVE that He is sovereign even though I feel like maybe He missed the boat when allowing precious children to die, whether from this most recent tragedy in CT or in any other circumstance which takes a child from this earth before his parents leave.  He didn't miss the boat at all.  Our world is tragically fallen and will only heal completely when Jesus comes again.

The theology is sound.  And, perhaps in a non sequitur manner, I'm comforted by the fact that this knowledge of truth is far and away superior to my feelings.  Grateful, even.  For I know that no matter how lousy or incredible I feel, God is still God.  Still on the throne, and still provides grace abundant for each moment of my days.  Sometimes, though, I know all this to my core, yet still...seem to find no other parking space for my mind than in the lot of discouragement.  This fallen world gets to me.  My maturity as a believer in Jesus regresses back to my days as a baby Christian.  Sometimes, I tire of doing good, tire of keeping on, and tire of asking God for the faith of a mustard seed.  In particular, sometimes, I tire of feeling so lonely and beaten down in the land of "autisic-spectrum-and-numerous-other-diagnoses" parenting.  I feel alone.  Yet I know I am not alone.  My holy, blessed Father is with me always, in my daily walk, whether I feel it or not.

• When I'm tired of trying so many different ways to get my child to eat healthfully and with variety, and I seem to run into the brick wall of "I'm 16 and you can't control this.", He is there.
• When we see a doctor who treats my child with a sweep of a glance and sees only what he's looking for, He is there.
• When I cringe because I feel like I prod more than i praise, and correct more than I let lie, He is there.
• When I am embarrassed over something my child does and feel shame, He is there.
• When I am sad and ashamed over feeling embarrassed about the above bullet, He is there.
• When I worry, "God, will he be happy?  Will he be okay?" He is there.
• When I feel the gut punch of watching a lonely boy want for friends and have so few.  He is there.
• When I feel like hanging up the mom mantle for just a day, because I felt so much more competent as a speech therapist, He is there.

When I go to heaven, I'm going to ask God why he wired me the way He did.  I might ask why He didn't make me better at thought than at feeling.  Yet it occurs to me--if I had no needs, I wouldn't need Him, would I? He is the potter and I am the clay.

Thank you, God for giving me just what I need.  Thank you for the knowledge that You are within me and beside me.  Forgive me for my worry and for parking in areas of discouragement, when You have saved me by grace and lifted me from this world.  I do pray that my feelings would somehow align more often with my thoughts.  But even when they don't, You are there.  And I praise you.  Love, your daughter.

The Rhythm of Grace

Wow, two posts in two days, then off the radar for a month.  I'm nothing if not inconsistent. :)

I've been in a bit of a learning time.  Refining.  Pruning.  Readying for the next season.

If the last lesson here at Jewels was about slowing down, stopping, and re-setting the GPS, this lesson forces my hand teaches the practical application of doing so within an unhurried, confident pace.  Choosing to live by the rhythm of grace, if you will.  For it is only by living both in and BY his grace that we are truly traveling towards perfect peace and unity with our amazing, triune God.  God is showing me that any time I try to force HIS hand, make things go my way, and get things over with, I'm missing out on all that He has for me.

Can I be frank?  Hi frank.

I do not like this lesson.  I am a pusher.  I like things how I like them.  I do not like rolling with the punches, being patient, or dealing with things which are.not.on.the.schedule.  My coping mechanisms get maxed out, and I tend to get discouraged.  Or angry.  Or feel defeated. Anyone hear me?  My precious God tells me in not-so-many words that He understands this, and He won't give up on me, but that I could really do myself a big favor by listening and adhering to His better perfect plan.  In fact, recognizing and following the rhythms of grace happens to be included in His perfect plan and in my Child of God job description.  

That description (and rhythm) goes something like this:  Love Me best, Love others well, Obey me. Repeat.

Love Me best.  I do, Father.  I do.  But, like Peter, I forget too quickly, too often.  Forgive the distractions I allow to interfere with giving my best love for You.  Praise your holy name!

Love others well.  I want to, Father.  And loving them well means putting up with things that bug me, extending grace, mercy, and forgiveness.  Showing my love for them shows my love for you.  I love because first you loved me.  Help me, Father.  The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.  Transform and renew my mind, Dear Father, so that I may put others first and do so willingly and as a fragrant sacrifice to you.

Obey me.  Help me, Father.  Help me have the courage to do what's not popular.  To take the road less traveled, and to do so within Your time-frame--in Your rhythm of Grace.  Help me to turn my attitude around when I'm discouraged, angry, or otherwise feeling broken.  Help me to obey your traffic signs.  Your pace, eyes to Heaven, knowing that when I'm in Your will for me, I'm moving along at just the right speed.

Dear Reader, do you relate to this at all?  Have you found your unhurried rhythm of grace?  I'd love to hear from you.

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign...

Oh my goodness--two posts in one week!  What's up with that?  Well, I love this blog, yet have never really found a habit or theme or significantly large following for my posts; so I decided, about a year ago, to write only when I felt a prompting by the Holy Spirit.  Ergo, there's seemingly no rhyme nor reason to my blogging, and I've grown to be just fine with that.  Seems the Holy Spirit is pretty busy with me this week. :)

I don't know if this is the case where you reside, but near me?  Seems all I've seen whilst driving, lately are pictures like these:

Caution.  Slow down.  Be prepared to stop.

These signs seem to be on every street corner within a 20 mile radius of my house.  Grr!  Do they bother you as much as they do me?

I wish I could say that I don't mind these signs--that I welcome the interruption and/or delay in my
very important day. But honestly? They piss me off frustrate me and make me feel impatient, stressed, and just not very sweet.  Hard to believe, eh?  ;)  Folks, I have places to be and things to do.

H.o.w.e.v.e.r...

Our sweet Father, ever so patient with his rebellious, selfish daughter, spoke to my heart about these signs in a way that only He could speak.

Caution:  Daughter, your mouth (and your keystrokes) often move faster than your brain.  Words can pierce. My children are to be slow to speak, slow to get angry (or use sarcasm) and quick to listen.  Make me known by your love for your family, your neighbors, your community, your church, and even those who drive you crazy--you know, like those road workers with their flags...

Slow down:  Daughter, just because you think life should unfold in a certain way and in a particular order  (ahem-- like your adoption) doesn't mean that I've ordained them as such.  Let me be God.  Slow down.  Walk/drive/live in peace and in the confidence that I AM and I know what I'm doing.

Be Prepared to Stop:  Sometimes, Daughter, there will be detours and times where you think I've left you behind and/or stopped caring about your best interest.  Trust me.  I may stop you on a dime.  I may stop you for a little while, or for what seems like forever to you.  Trust.Me.  Breathe.  Give thanks, and seek my face.


Okay, Father.  I think I get it.  Thank you for this gentle conviction upon my heart.  Thank you for Your grace and for loving me even when I'm not being lovable.  I ask your forgiveness for the cruddy behavior from a heart not fully surrendered. Help me to love like You love.  In Jesus' name.  Amen.

What about you?  Any signs from God that you wish to share?

But Reading The Bible is Boring...

No it isn't.  But I see where you're coming from.  It's different.  An acquired taste, maybe.  But not boring.  There's more action, intrigue, sex and how-tos in the Bible than in any other book I've read.  So many genres, so little time.  And...the best part?  Hope everlasting.  Wouldn't you agree that a little hope is vastly needed right about now?

But it's so old and not relevant.

Yes.  Old.  Yes. Relevant.

But I don't have time.

Yes you do.  Alas, I watch too much TV--anyone else? 

I go to church, so I'll get what I need, there.

Going to church for an hour to an hour and a 1/2 a week is great.  But it's not enough.  Life is a marathon.  You're gonna get tired and thirsty before Sunday morning.  

Today holds a special place in my heart.  Why?  Well, by the grace of God, I just finished a chronological read through of the Bible (in a year).  As I may have mentioned before, I've done two prior read-throughs, and am glad I did those (non-chronological plans) before doing this one.  Taking small bits of Scripture to read and chew on from both the Old and New Testaments is a great way to remain engaged in the process of reading through one's Bible, especially if the task feels daunting (and let's be serious--boring). However, I'm so glad I did a chronological reading, and recommend this to others, as well.  Especially if you're not a "history type".


Reading through the Bible in a chronological fashion really helped to put the pieces of God's story together for me.  The repetition of the books written at near concurrent times fleshed out the cultural events and perspective of the day more clearly for me, than reading in other ways.  Before I go further, I do recommend a study Bible or a fabulous concordance/Bible dictionary.  I also recommend a translation which is easy for you to understand. You won't read something which is too difficult to slog through, day in and day out. The translation which I've used for the last several years has been the NLT.  Although, it's not a paraphrase, it's a happy medium between the NIV (a translation) and The Message (a paraphrase).  Very readable.  Personally, I would recommend the NIV or NLT as great places to start, but everyone has his/her own favorites.  Back to the study portion of my Bible.  Honestly, the notes have been invaluable in helping me figuring out some of the cultural/ideological standards of the day, which, as a non-historian, I had difficulty understanding on my own. They also highlight certain people of the Bible, and note why these folks are important, deserving more than a cursory glance.


Here's a secret:  I'm not a historian. Cue music, "Don't know much about history..." But as a daughter of the Most High King, I believe it incumbent upon me to learn as much as I can about the Jesus, whom I say I follow, and why I've given my life to Him.  Not only do I want to be sure of my faith for myself, but in making disciples (which is Christianese for sharing my faith), it's key to know at least a bit of why it matters to be a Christian.  I believe reading His word is the best way to do this.  Why?  Well, when an event of epic proportion occurs what do we do?  Generally, we ask witnesses what happened.  We read accounts of the day and look to as many news sources as possible.  Well, Christ's coming was over 2,000 years ago.  There are no living witnesses (except those in Heaven), so the Bible is the best witness account we have.  Moreover, I know many of us would love to HEAR the word of God.  The Bible is His inspired, infallible word.  Reading it is akin to hearing His voice.

Perhaps another reason why I'm passionate about reading one's Bible is this:  The culture in which we live is so anti-Bible.  God's word is bandied about left and right by folks who want to win an argument, or gain political sway.  Its meaning has become bastardized and disrespected in so many ways. Whether you choose to read the bible in a year or in ten years doesn't matter.  Whether you use this tool or that translation, doesn't matter.  But if you're a follower of Jesus, I exhort you to give at least a tenth of the time you spend reading for pleasure to reading your Bible.  We will be known by our obedience to Him and our love for each other.  Wouldn't it be great to put a new sign into the ground of our culture.  A sign that says, "Here."  Here, I will read His word, using the tools I need to make the words clear for my understanding.  Here, I'll pray for His grace and wisdom in gleaning the meaning from the pages.  Here, I will revere and delight in His love letter to me, His precious daughter/son, so that I may show His love to others.  Here am I.  Send me.

Who's in?

Extravagant Love

Happy September, All.  I know...we're 1/3 finished with the month; but it's the thought, right?  Not necessarily.  Sometimes, it's the deed.  And I'm about to share a deed which is nothing less than an extravagant hug from the Father.

Let me explain.

This last week has been the best of times and the not-tragic-but-somewhat-suckish.  I won't say, "worst" because, though I'm wont to be a drama queen (shocker), I'm a truthful queen, first and foremost.  Worst doesn't enter the picture. Thank God.

Snapshot:

• Have a bump/owie on my foot which is driving me crazy.  Xray was negatory, so I took my radioactive little self to nuclear medicine on Friday for a bone scan.  We shall see.  They're ruling out a stress fracture.  What can I say?  The body decays.  Have no idea why this hurts. It just does.  And while I can do what I need to do, it's sort of just...a pain in the foot.  Ya know?
• Got the results from my son's cognitive and neuropsych testing.  We did this battery to mostly say all the right things colleges need to hear for him to receive the multitude of modifications he'll require.  Testing is good.  The boy was a champ.  Praise God that he can go to college some day.  But looking at one's son as a picture of diagnoses and recommendations hurts. Seeing the boy's   shoulders slump and his head bow down as the psychologist explains all of his needs, while trying to focus on the fact that "you're really, really smart, though!", hurts.  He's perfect just the way he is.  However, our culture/working society is that in which he must fit, and without help, he doesn't.  I know this. I'm a speech therapist.  I've done many a report and counseled many a family, myself.  It's different, though, when it's MY family. 
• The husband has been ill.  Nothing major.  Just a nasty, quick-hitting virus, which had him majorly uncomfortable for a couple of days, and only able to ingest a BRAT diet, if ya know what I mean. Just as he's getting better (again, thank God), he needs to leave for the week.  And, I'm just gonna miss him.

See?  Nothing horrid.  Nothing life shattering.  But the God who loves me so much, gave me rest, encouragement, and yes, major a little swag in the form of an extravagant gift from a dear friend.

My friend, L. has great taste and loves to sparkle--two qualities I highly admire.  She had this beautiful bag with her a week or so ago at church, and I may have coveted it or something.  Pray for me.  But I think I told her how much I loved it.  

Yesterday, she said, "Here's my friend Gretchen's new bag, because she loved it.". 

What?  Can you say, "OVERWHELMED"?

L. and I don't see each other often enough because of our differing schedules--she, a full time career girl, empty-nester, and I...not. :) Yet, we are connected through our love of music and singing praise songs, our love of jewelry and all things pretty, and our love for a good glass of wine and a smackerel of something to eat.  Most importantly, though, we are connected by a God who loves us fiercely, and who used her yesterday to show me His extravagant love, once again.  Through this amazing, touching experience, I heard the following whispers:

"You're not alone.  I'm beside you, always."

"I've seen you ogling Coach bags at the outlet stores far too often, Gretchen."

"I love you, my daughter.  I've shown you in the death and resurrection of my Son, but I know little things, like feeling pretty, matter to you. I can do those, too."

Thank you, God, for L.  And thank you God for always picking up this pitiful soul and pointing it to you, making me worthy and holy and calling me "daughter".  Love you.

Anyone else receive an extravagant gift of love, lately?  I would love to hear about it.

My ugly

Can you see her?  

Nope?

Not the leggy parts of the plants that need to be pruned back.  

Look closer.

How about this?

Yep!  That's the one!  

Ms. Columbine, herself.

I saw her today, as I went out to check the bills mail.

No big deal, right?  

She's a delicate little thing, DEFINITELY not on a timely schedule.  

All her friends were here in June, carrying on, in living color.

But here's the thing.  My ah-ha, if you will:

She's perfectly made.  

She's lovely.

For whatever reason...

she's here, now.

I have no idea why this little Columbine has this one, little bloom, happy among the raggedy summer annuals and in the midst of her "ugly" twiggy plant.  As you might well know, the sad part about having perennials is that you just have to let them go through their ugly season, without ripping them out and cutting them back, in order for them to grow well in their next season.  So, I tried to beautify the pot with annuals, all around the Columbine, in hopes that it wouldn't look so tired and worn.  

I have no idea why this little plant has enchanted me enough to write a post about it.  Those of you who know me are probably not surprised that I've anthropomorphized a flower.  But I digress. Perhaps I write because the God who loves me knows that this has been a season of...well...ugly for me, at times.  In fact, I fear I have even been a little ugly in my heart, despite my very human efforts to stay beautiful on the inside.  

With eyes toward Heaven and open hands, I submit to my maker.  I submit to growing through my ugly.  My precious God, reminds me that He is ever near, ever sovereign.  Sovereign enough to send His son to die for me.  To raise the dead, and even to encourage a soul which is just a little worn and tired.  He reminds me that though this season is not one of my favorites, it's a season in which He continues to reign and allows me life and breathe for which to praise Him.  Friends, I hope this is a good reminder for you to rest in His presence, as well, no matter your season.  He loves us so much.  

Have you never heard?    

Have you never understood?

The Lord is the everlasting God,    

The Creator of all the earth.

He never grows weak or weary.    

No one can measure the depths of his understanding. 

He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.

Even youths will become weak and tired,

And young men will fall in exhaustion.

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.

They will soar high on wings like eagles.

They will run and not grow weary.    

They will walk and not faint.  Isaiah 40:28-31 (NLT)

Sally, Ricky Bobby, and Jesus

So what brings me back to the blog?  A "crazy dog lady" story, Sally, Ricky Bobby, and Jesus, of course.  Hey, if God speaks to me through these things, who am I to question?

Each morning, the routine is the same, one dog wakes me up, usually about 5 minutes before my alarm rings, and the next one gets up, shakes, and heads me down the stairs to let them out and start my coffee. When they come in from outside, I feed them breakfast. Since they tend to be fat chubby corpulent portly plump  under-tall for their weight, I've started mixing in a diet food with their regular kibble.  Evidently the diet food is beyond incredible, because they both love it.  However, I need to measure their food, so only one dog can be fed at a time.  We're talking a wait of seconds until Dog Two gets her share.  However, seconds might as well be an eternity, as Lowla (dog 2) dives into Annie's bowl, foraging like their's no tomorrow.  As Sally puts so eloquently in the famous A Charlie Brown Christmas, Lowla just wants "what I...I have coming to me...All I want is my fair share".  I have to physically move.her.head from Annie's dish, and guide it to her own dish, two inches away--full of food for her.  She will always get her fair share, and she will always be fed, but, ingrained in her little Dachshund head is the Ricky Bobby principle to life:  "If you're not first, yer LAST!"

Try as I might, I'm guilty of the first and fair share mentality.  Ouch.  Want examples?  Well, THESE are simply some I can think of from the last week.

• When stuck in traffic, I think, "Where did all these people come from?!!"
• I've interrupted both my daughter and my son this week, probably sure that what I had to say was more important, so should be heard (first). 
• I'm always disappointed for my husband when he's not bumped up to First Class on one of his transcontinental flights, because, after all, he's tall, and he puts in so many miles that he "deserves" it.  
• I was hard-pressed not to roll my eyes and help the grocery clerk do his job a little faster and more efficiently, so I wouldn't have to wait in line as long.  And I nearly helped the customer in front of me unpack her merchandise onto the conveyor belt, because she was chatting, and unloading her groceries one-handedly and haphazardly.  Thinking to myself, "Move, dammit!  This isn't rocket science.  I have to be somewhere."  I might as well said aloud, "I'm very busy and important--outta my way."
• I grow weary of waiting on God's timing for our adoption, and wish it would just happen--homeless child = ready.  Parents = ready.  Come on, already.

Can you find any grace in those examples?  I can't.  Can you find any dependence on God?  Any evidence of the following?

But among you it will be different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must become your slave.  For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.”  Matthew 20:26-28 NLT

God, has gently convicted me, through silly movies and sillier dogs, that I've got a long way to go in the following Jesus department.  Just as Lowla will get her kibble and every good thing from me, I know that God has great plans for me, and gives me nothing but His best, in His perfect time.  So thankful He never gives up on a contrite heart. So grateful that he loves me despite having to metaphorically move my head out of another dog's feeding dish.  Praying that He would create a clean heart in me, and renew a steadfast spirit, as He continues to complete the work He has started in me.  

While I'm praying, do let me know how I can pray for you, today.  What's God laying on your heart?

If You Can't Say Something Nice...Say It Nicely

With a title like that, it's gotta be juicy, no? 

No.

Really, I'm just sick, sick, sick of the rain and of the mild-moderate perma-headache I've had for about 3 days.  Feeling so drained, despite going to the gym and eating a bit better.  And...feeling unproductive.  And when you give a mouse a cookie when I'm not feeling productive, I tend to not BE productive.  Blah, blah, blah.  Slump-dee-dee-dump.

So...this is a wee exercise for me to help reframe my thoughts and find my mojo.  Gratitude + Goal Setting = Gretchen off her hiney and out of her head = Good.

Thankful:

1. Thankful for a warm house to stay out of the rain.  Praying that this rain would move to CO and other western states who have such a need to douse out of control fires.
2. Grateful that we don't HAVE to be anywhere today, and that I'm home with the kids  Guilt-free quiet morning with the kids snuggled in their beds and me snuggled next to my beloved farting dogs and cuppa coffee.
3. Grateful for our health.  Pesky headache aside, we are all pretty healthy.  As I'm learning more and more each day, one's health is wealth, indeed.
4. Grateful for time to read books.  Just read a great novel, called The English American, by Alison Rankin.  Easy, peasy read and so engaging/good!  Could not put it down.
5. Grateful for the open space on today's calendar to work on some not-so-fun, but oh-so-necessary tasks. (e.g. taming Quilt-n-Scrap Land)  Also grateful for the time to post, which really seems to be like journaling for me, and helps focus my thoughts.

Goals:

1. I will spend an hour doing basic cleaning (home blessing, as Flylady would call it), to give myself a blank canvas for organizing tasks and to show gratitude for the home I've been given.
2. I will spend at least 3 increments of 15 minutes organizing Q and S Land. 
3. I will make us something nutritious to eat for lunch and for dinner. 
4. I will log my food intake and do some form of exercise for 15 minutes, at least, to both show gratitude for the body and health i've been given and to keep myself healthy/lift my mood.
5. I will be present and listening for my kids when they need me.

I don't know about you, but I feel better. Any gratitude/goals which you'd like to share?  I'd love to hear.

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

   Psalm 51:10 (NIV)

Summer Breeze Makes Me Feel Fine

Last time we met, I wrote about transition, and how I was learning to love it--daily--much like Paul learned to love the "thorn" in his side.  It was an opportunity to watch God be strong in my area of weakness.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. ” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.  2 Corinthians 12:8-10 (NIV)

• Though we remain on Eastern Daylight Time in our home (to facilitate conference calls back east), I'm ever so grateful for this week in which my husband is working from home.  We both would love it if his job was local; however, at this time, we're giving thanks for ANY job which meets our needs and makes D want to get up and go to work in the morning.  So...it's extra-special to have him home.  The smiles through the office door (it's glass, folks) and the meals and moments shared are simple, but simply priceless.
• Grateful for the sleep-overs and late mornings for my kids.  Do you remember how summer used to be this carte blanc of doing nothing and everything you wanted to do?  Staying up too late.  Getting up at 11 or whenever. The boy thunders makes his way downstairs by mid morning, and nods a greeting to me on the way to his computer. Finally!  Summer is here. The girl, having just "graduated" from middle school (does anyone else think of the Clampetts?), continues to ride the high of being the lead class of her school for as long as she can, and enjoying these special days until she's a little duck in a big ocean in high school.  
• Grateful to see a friend's Ethiopian adoption come to fruition this week.  Yes, I could park in the zone of "waah-I-want-my-adoption-to-go-through-too!", and, truthfully, I did this for about 30 minutes.  Of course I do want our adoption to go through as soon as possible.  But God's timing is perfect.  So I rest in that, and give thanks for this wee one being brought to her forever family.  For privacy purposes, I won't link to her parents' blog, but trust me--little K is divine!  Simply divine.  I could not be more thrilled for her new siblings and her mom and dad.  
• Grateful for and to a God who loves me and rides out my emotions and weaknesses as I struggle to follow Him for all I'm worth each day.  The fact that He substituted His son for me, to make me holy to Himself is mind-blowing, every time I think of it.  After all, for whom would you sacrifice your child? 

Simple pleasures?  Gratitude? What do you give thanks for today?

Transition: Breathe

Transition.  I'm not sure there's a harder word for me to appreciate.  Dictionary.com defines transition as the: movement, passage, or change from one position, state, stage, subject, concept, etc., to another; change: the transition from adolescence to adulthood.

Yep.  I'm not technically a fan of transition.  I'm a rut person.  I like comfort.  I like knowing, predicting, anticipating, and...ahem...controlling. 

Here's what comes to mind when i think of transition--giving birth.  If I may be so bold, the getting pregnant part was fun.  Having child 1 and child 2 placed in my arms was more than fun--it was more than amazing, really.  But...the transition part of labor?  Notsomuch fun. For any men brave enough to keep reading, I promise to step off this metaphor very soon.  But not quite yet.  You see, in "transition", the pain is at it's zenith, and we ladies are told not to push.  We're told to breathe.  Really?  Breathe.  Yeah, that helps.  Pant like a dog, in fact.  Because there's nothing that makes a woman feel prettier than panting like a dog as she rides out the pain of the whole watermelon through a straw situation.  Maybe there's even a blissful midwife or husband whom you used to love, but now would like to see banished to a far, far away land at one's side encouraging such behavior.   Yep, you're in pain, and want this baby so badly to come, but during transition, you must wait.  Breathe and wait.  Let that baby get into position so s/he can be brought forth into the world. 

There's not a lot you can control during times of transition.  Bother. Here are some other transitions we're in the midst of in our family--maybe you can relate:

• transitioning from middle school to high school
• transitioning from thinking about learning to drive to learning to drive
• transitioning from time zone to time zone  - Buffalo to Seattle and back (weekly)
• transitioning from being the sole adult in the home to having a partner (weekly)
• transitioning from being undisciplined with eating patterns to eating mindfully
• transitioning from school to summer

But, as my compassionate, faithful, p.a.t.i.e.n.t. God has impressed upon me, these times of transition--times when I'm at the end of myself--are times to trust and hold fast to my faith more. 

To grow into a new level of belief and maturity. 

I don't know about you, but sometimes, I get tired of trusting and growing and maturing.  I can get myself a regular, good old funk regarding all of the changes and my wishes to keep things the same--or at least under control.  But without transition:

• the middle schooler stays in hell middle school
• the boy never learns to drive
• the man gives up his employment
• the woman gives up her ability to lovingly support her husband
• the family remains unhealthy
• summer never comes

And that beautiful baby--fruit of the transition between being a couple and being a family--is never born. 

So...by the grace of God, I'm reframing my thinking about transition.  I'm choosing, just for this moment, to embrace transition.  To breathe.  And to trust God that He'll prepare and guide me for what comes in the next moment...and the next.

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. "  Philippians 3:12 (NIV)

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us..."  Hebrews 12:1 (NIV)

This One's A Real Dog...

Can you even believe I'm going to post about dogs?  How about dogs and God?  I know.  Pretty cray-cray, if you ask me. 

I love my dogs.  There's a reason why my husband has nicknamed me "The Sanctuary", and it's not because I exude thoughtful repose.  I happen to love most animals, and typically, the sadder the story, the more I love them.  Well, I don't love cats (allergic) and snakes (icky).  God knows this about me.  He even knows that I wish I didn't love my dogs so much on most days because, they are messy and farty and expensive, and take a lot of effort probably much better placed elsewhere.  But I can't help myself.

Today, I took a walk, and was reminded about the different walking experience between sight dogs and scent dogs. The sight dog is all business, eyes forward and scanning, laser focused on the goal at hand.  On the other paw (sorry), the scent hound is more of a meanderer, sniffing each area and processing that before ready to proceed.  My Retriever, Annie, is primarily sight focused, though obviously she uses her nose, too.  My Dachshund, Lowla, is primarily scent/nose focused.

Quite honestly, I prefer walking Annie.  Now that she's an adult and has pretty decent walking manners, she is lovely to walk.  We jet right through the neighborhood, enjoying the view, but not tarrying along. We finish our walk in about 15 minutes, and check it off the list for our day. DONE!  As you might imagine, walking Lowla is a bit different.  She's equally enthusiastic about her walk, but prefers to stop at every.single.yard. and s.n.i.f.f. as long as possible.  She hears, "Lowla, heel!" throughout our walk.  While it's a joy to see her little nose twitch and watch her sweet personality as we go, she's more work.  We stop more often.  I correct her more often.  And, if I'm honest, I find myself sometimes wishing that she would just "walk like Annie does". 

An aside:  This is good news for Annie, because she is a rotten dog in most other ways, and should not be emulated by others.  We love her regardless, of course. 

I believe God brought two things to mind when I went on this walk:  An appreciation for His wiring and will in us, and the urge to give grace and mercy to those who aren't wired the way (I) we are (am).

I think the scent/sight illustration is a helpful one when we look at men and women--generalities, folks.  I realize the analogy goes only so far, but honestly?  My husband is more of a sight dog (as are many men), and I'm more of a scent hound (as are many women).  Guys like to do their thing, focus on one thing at a time, and cross it off their list.  It's important for them to feel useful and competent.  While I realize many of us girls would also like to be considered competent, we tend, either by choice or by circumstance, to meander through our days.  We meander, due to the way we like to look around and ponder when shopping, due to our help-meet nature, and due to our face-to-face nature.  We stop and listen because we are wired to do so.  Additionally, most women would describe themselves as multitaskers.

Given the aformentioned illustration, it's easy to understand why I might be just the teeniest bit frustrating to my husband when he's trying to get something done. Conversely, when he's focused to the max, I sometimes want to hit him wish he would slow down and smell the roses. 

Neither wiring, scent- nor sight-focused, is better than the other.  In fact, we need them both to have not only great marriages (and great dogs), but to have the balance which supports healthy relationships with everyone. Our God is way to big to make cookie cutter people.  It's easy to judge others for how we're made, and--if I'm honest, lose patience all too easily with them.  In this broken world, we (okay, I) forget that God should be our (my) first focus, and that if we (I) love Him, we'll (I'll) love each other (you) better.  More mercifully.  More appreciative of what we've (I've) each been given and how we (I) can, in turn, give to others. 

Wag more. Bark less. Peace out.

Sunday Sumthin': God Sighting

I realize that if you are not a Christian, and you read my blog (thank you, BTW), you may think that I'm a bit Jesus-freakish, when it comes to seeing God in everyday life.  Even my little signature line of "Soli Deo Gloria" (to God alone be the glory) might seem a little extreme, or kool-aid drinking-ish. In this little corner of the blogosphere, I tend to share that which I'm creatively led to share, which often includes those things in my heart that I'm too vulnerable to talk about "in person".  Unfortunately, I'm often too afraid to share the nuts and bolts of my faith, face to face.  It's much easier to hide behind a computer screen, rather than to pick up a phone, look someone in the eye, or say something in public.  I don't risk seeing an eye-roll, hearing a polite-but-irritated sigh, or being ostracized by members of my community.  How this computes with "Take up your cross and follow Me," I'm not sure.  Oh, right.  It doesn't.  I'm risking next to nothing for the unsaved.

The thing is, if I call myself a Christian, I'm commanded to share His Good News, no matter what my personal risk.  As the Apostle Paul says, to die is to live in Christ Jesus.  In Galatians 5:22, Paul also tells us that the fruit of God's Spirit, which indwells every believer in Jesus, includes:  love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.   Loving others as myself means that I will risk my earthly life for their eternal lives. 

I'm not good at this risky business.  But I'm taking baby steps, and yesterday, I saw God's faithfulness repay me ten-fold for my trust in Him.  Since you already know that I'm a sharer, you're about to read my little testimony.

I've finally had it with my clothes getting to small for me, and really, really, REALLY want to be an example of health and self control for my kids, so I signed up for Weight Watchers.  My first meeting was last Saturday.  I had just gotten to the point where I needed some accountability, and some face-to-face risk, saying, "My name is Gretchen and I'm fat, I'm fat, jam on! I'm a foodaholic.  I too often bow to the idol of chocolate or cheese I'm filling a God sized (pie)hole with food. 

During the meeting, we were asked what we did to encourage ourselves on bad days.  It's often so much easier to cheer a friend or be gentle with another, when we really have no reason not to be that kind and understanding with ourselves.  Our simple exercise was this:  We had to write a note of encouragement "To My Friend".  Our notes would then be collected and passed out in random order to each of us, as encouragement throughout the week.  Our leader instructed us to use a favorite phrase, word, picture, or verse.  I'd been meditating on Lamentations 3:22-24,

Because of the Lord’s great love^(A) we are not consumed,^(for his compassions never fail.^(C)23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.^(D)

and I wanted so badly to write it down for another because it comforts and directs me so.  But I was afraid.  It was my first meeting, and despite wanting to live out loud for Jesus, I'm all to aware of the black eye we Christians have in mainstream culture. 

But I did it anyway.  I wrote it out.  And handed it in.

Here's what I received back:  "This is the day that the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad. (Psalm 118:24)

Thank you, Jesus, for meeting this pilgrim right where she is.  I'm never alone when I abide in You. You bless me, so. 

GladiTuesday - Help Wanted

Man, am I glad that my joy is not dependent upon my circumstances!  I have a great life, but starting last week, and into yesterday, the arrows have been slung, flung, or whatever an arrow does, in the direction of my heart and mind.  I woke up today with a weary spirit--total spiritual warfare, by the way--so I knew I needed to refocus.  As you all know my best refocusing tool is giving God glory for his blessings in the form of Gladitudes.  So...off I prattle.  But stay awake, because your participation is requested.

1. So glad upon glad that my daughter set her own personal best record (and bested the school record that she set in 6th grade) in flinging the discus, yesterday, at her first track meet of the year.  She would not describe herself as a major athlete, but she does love to participate in sports, and she loves the opportunity of her school's no-cut teams, so that she can try everything and find her niche.  Watching her confidence and teamwork grow as she does something healthy for mind and body is so gladdifying to me.
2. Glad for huge growth in my son's coping skills.  This kid has had to deal with challenge and loss on many fronts in his short life, and he had some news last Friday, which could have really derailed him, and precipitated a downward spiral into anxiety and depression.  So thankful for God's mercy and grace upon him.  He's handling the significant changes to his school days with elegant maturity.
3. Glad for my husband's steadying head and hand of leadership upon this family.  Sometimes I feel silly running things by him--after all, like Stuart Smiley, I'm good enough, smart enough, and darn it, people like me.  However, every time I lean on him in humility and submission, God blesses it.  Every.time.
4. I've tried to avoid being a weather talker, but I can't.  I'm so stinkin' glad about the last few days of 60s and 70s weather, that I don't even mind our marine layer, this morning.  Thank you, God, for blessing me with the warm, but not too hot, glorious, amazing sun.  What a mood lifter.
5. Glad for a taste of heaven in a lovely 24 hour retreat with some of the most incredible women I know.  Also glad upon glad for the living, breathing, encouraging word of God.  God put it into my head to ask these women to mark their favorite Scripture/s in my Bible.  They did, and then we all shared those Scriptures together, and spoke about their specific meaning in our lives. After that, we all prayed for each other, and gave thanks to our marvelous God.  It was one of the best church services I've ever attended. 

Here's where you come in.  Please comment, and tell me a verse which makes you glad.  Your life verse, a verse that has gotten you through the worst of days, a verse which confirms your faith.  Whatever.  Just listing the Scripture verse is fine, but if you want to give any more tidbits re: why you chose it, I'd lurve that.

Here are 3 of mine: 

Philippians 4:8 (NLT)  "And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing.  Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable.  Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. " 

1 Peter 3:1-2 (NLT) "In the same way, you wives must accept the authority of your husbands.  Then, even if some refuse to obey the Good News, your godly lives will speak to them wihout any words.  They will be won over by observing your pure and reverent lives."

Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT) Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you.  Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light."

It's Good to Remember: Columbine

I lurve myself a good joke.  In fact, humor is one of God's most precious gifts to me, in good times, and especially in bad times.  I've been so grateful for a giggle or guffaw, whether inappropriate or not, when stressed, worried, or sad. 

But sometimes, there is nothing funny to say.  Not a quip.  Not a sassy one-liner, complete with wink and hair-toss. 

Sometimes we just need to sit in a bit of grief and remember.  Sometimes, it's okay to be wrecked in remembrance, if only for a moment.  Then, life moves forward, as it will and, as it should. 

Thirteen years ago today, I had one child in preschool and one child with me, as I ran errands.  I had  run to the post office, and had just fastened my baby girl into her car seat, ready to run back to get her brother, as it was nearly time for morning preschool to let out.  I was probably hurrying.  An ordinary day.  Except when I turned on the radio, I heard words that didn't make sense.  Words impossible to process--a story unfolding, which was as unbelieavable as it was true. 

I post this not to be gruesome or dramatic, but to remember.  To remember how quickly peace was shattered that day, and to remember the grieving parents, teachers, and students.  Hell visited Colorado that day, just 17 miles from my house.  Friends of mine and their friends took children to far too many funerals that year--more than most of us will attend in our lifetimes.  Life is short, and we must "love the one's we're with..."

But I can't leave you with this, alone.  I leave you with another clip.  Hope from ashes.  God's able hand working something good from something horrific:  Please click here.

We are...Columbine.

Howdy!  I hope your week has gotten off to a gladrific start.  We had glorious sun over the weekend, and managed to spend some time outside each day; however, today, we were greeted with sprinkles and wind.  Must be spring.  Here are my top 5 gladdies for the week:

1. Glad that Big came home on Thur night (well, Friday @ 12:00), so we had him in the house for three days!  Our family just works best when all of us are present and accounted for.  We make the most of travel days with Skype dates and other media devices, but kissing the camera lens is just not quite the same. We went out on a date on Saturday, after our day of family fun (ahem, it didn't start out fun, but one must keep trying) with the kids. 
2. Glad about all sorts of possibilities at the garden center.  Mind you, I have allergies, and don't really like gardening, but looking at all the pretty herbs and flowers, over the weekend, made me happy.
3. Glad for two weddings of dear, dear friends which are now less than a month away (same weekend).  Also glad that there are 38 and 35 days of school left, respectively for the daughter and the son.  I know the first few days of summer are gonna blow, because none of us is very good at transitions, but after that...oh, we are so good.   Mmm.  Can't wait to plan a bit.
4. Glad that I made it past the 1/3 mark on my Bible in a Year study.  Woohoo.  I'm trying my hardest to read ahead, in order to give myself grace days (since this plan doesn't have them thrown in).  Been reading a lot of the Psalms, lately.  L.u.r.v.e.
5. (Okay, deep breath, because I'm probably over-sharing)...Glad that I've decided to try to write a memoir about raising a child with the Autistic Spectrum primary diagnosis of Sensory Processing Disorder.  We'll see.  I've spoken to the child in question, and the child supports me and might even be persuaded to add a chapter of his/her own.  Could use your prayers.  God gave me this experience of loneliness and inexplicable joy, and I need to share it, so that someone else might not feel so lonely, and that her joy may be at least as amazing as mine.  Anne Lamott has been such an encouragement to me re: getting started writing.  Here's a tweet:  "Write one bad pointless embarrassment of a paragraph. Now one more; one more. You did it! You're done for day (well, maybe just one more)".  Another shout out to my friend, Audra, too.  Heart you.  You are a blessing.
6. Bonus Glad:  I have a mom's night out I'm looking forward to this week, AND a mom's sleepover this weekend.  Holla!
7. Bonus Glad 2:  Mad Men.

For what art thou gladest this week?

"Embarrassing Bravery"

Several months ago, I saw the movie, "We Bought a Zoo".  I'm not gonna lie, my primary reason for wanting to see the movie was because it starred a certain talented actor, whose name rhymes with rat caiman; but I also am an animal lover, and thought the storyline sounded intriguing.  If you've never heard of the movie, it's based upon a true story.  Benjamin Mee and his family actually rescued a ramshackle zoo, several years ago.  The movie is gentle, but realistic in portraying the grief of Benjamin and the children regarding the recent death of their wife/mother, and their adjustments within their new family dynamic.  It's definitely worth a Netflix rental.  IMHO, appropriate for kids 10 and up. 

But I'm not really writing to give a movie review.  I'm writing because my cognitive wheels have been spinning upon this terrific quote, spoken by Mee to his son, when his son was at a decision-making crossroads:

"You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage.  Just literally twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery.  And I promise you, something great will come of it."

Twenty seconds of insane courage.  Embarrassing bravery.  When was the last time I was insanely, embarrassingly bold and courageous?  You know...I don't remember.  I've done many things which made me nervous, unsure, or even somewhat embarrassed.  But this, to me, suggests that for twenty seconds, one falls without a net, in faith, that s/he won't go splat onto the concrete. 

I can't help but relate this to my life as a Christian and the lives of those who lived the (true) stories in the Bible.  Twenty seconds, by twenty seconds.  I think of folks like:

• Abraham, nearly killing his own son, as he readies him for sacrifice, because he showed insane bravery (and obedience).
• Rahab, hiding and aiding Joshua's men at the fall of Jericho.
• Ruth, staying with her mother-in-law, and going to Boaz' room at night to boldly ask him to be her kinsman redeemer.
• David, sparing Saul's life, when he had the chance to take Saul down in the cave where he was hiding with his men, and Saul was relieving himself. Twenty seconds of bravery meant that the Davidic line would continue because of his courageous obedience to God.
• Esther, watching and waiting for the right twenty minutes of embarrassing bravery, as she timed her message of Haman's hatred and plot to kill the Jews to King Xerxes.
• The Disciples, daring to leave their lives behind when Jesus asked them, to "Come, follow Me."
• Mary, when Gabriel told her of our Savior's imminent arrival and the role she would play as His earthly mother.  ""I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." (Luke 1:38 NIV)
• Joseph, when he listened to God's message in his dreams and obeyed: "When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus." (Matt. 1:24-25 NIV)
• Jesus, Himself, when he said the final prayer of submission to God, to take the cup of wrath that humankind deserved."Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." (Luke 22:42 NIV)
• Paul, on any number of missions trips to bring the Good News to those in Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome. 

These are just a few folks that came directly to mind.  There are so many others.  But the point is, all faced at least a modicum of fear, and all triumphed with insane courage. I believe that God inspired the Bible as the road map to our lives.  He shows us these examples, above, but He's also kind enough to show examples of living in fear, unbelief, and disobedience, and the consequences of each type of behavior choice. 

The best thing about embarrassing, insane courage when one is following Jesus is that, though we may feel every bit as helpless as the person falling without a safety net, we know that our safety net is Him. 
Okay...I've given myself enough to chew on for one day. :)  Now to pray about how I can be embarrassingly brave for Jesus.  Care to join me?

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

 "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. " Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Remember when I used to do these?  Well, it's GladiTuesday, everyone, so here are my gladdy's for the week in song format.

1. "Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, Please Shine Down On Me...."  The incredible sunshine, both on Easter Sunday and Monday have been a true Godsend.  I feel so much more productive, cheery, and energetic on a sunny day.  As I've said before, Seattle dwellers may be the most sun-loving of all.  I know I certainly appreciate these days. :)

2.  "Bali Ha'i May Call You, Any Night, Any Day, In Your Heart, You'll Hear It Call You:  "Come Away...Come Away."  I know I wasn't in the South Pacific last week, but close enough.  Rodgers' and Hammerstein's "South Pacific" was made into a 1957 movie, starring Mitzi Gaynor, and was filmed on Kauai.  Yes, last week, we were on the beautiful Hawaiian island of Kauai.  Sometimes life is just hard. Oh, and a little aside, of which I'm not proud:  I played Bloody Mary, while in a choir singing a medley of "South Pacific" Songs--at.band.camp.

3.  "Blue Eyes, Smilin' at Me...Nothin' But Blue Eyes Do I See..."  Okay, another flagrant brag about my vacation (enough, already!)...saw Pierce Brosnan, up close.  Sigh...we were in the same news stand area together.  I'll never wash these eyes again. 

4.  "I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends".  Yep, not only is that the God's honest truth, and not only am I blessed beyond measure with the best friends on the planet, but I heard both the Beatles and the Joe Cocker version of this song today.  You may know that I drive:  a lot.  Hearing good tunes is a way to connect with the boy and to make the time pass quickly.   Plus, every so often, I just have to look at this video of Joe's version, translated.  Makes me chortle.

5.  "Oh Praise the One Who Paid My Debt and Raised This Life Up From the Dead."  Jesus paid it all for you and for me.  He was born for us.  Lived and, sinless, took God's wrath upon himself for us, to justify us in relationship with a holy God.  But the most crazy-amazing thing is that He rose from the grave and ascended to Heaven, where He waits for us!  HE IS RISEN!  Nothing.  NOTHING.  Is better than that.  Woo!

"Gentle, Gretchen...Gentle!"

When I was about 4 years old, I received a Close'N Play record player, much like the one in the above picture.  In fact, I've been driving myself crazy these last 30 minutes, looking for the picture I just know I have of me with said toy.  Alas, the Google rendition will have to do. 

I have loved music for as long as I can remember...about that time of my life, I remember crooning to my mom's Roberta Flack album.  And "Yellow Submarine" was a daily chant for me, it seems.

However, the clearest memory of my little Close'N Play wasn't the the music I played on it (vinyl  45s, children--you cannot purchase them from iTunes), but that my parents had a chant of their own:  "Gentle, Gretchen.  Gentle!"  It seems I was a speedy and poweful over-achiever on the whole stick-a-record-in-and-slam-the-lid-down-tightly-while-pulling-out-the-record-placing-hand-in-record-time.  Gentle, Gretchen. Gentle.

39 years later, I'm still learning gentleness.  I like to think that I have improved in this area, but the truth is, gentleness is often my second, third, or last choice in behavior.  (hangs head)

Thankfully, my faith in Jesus' saving has covered my lack of gentleness.  But clearly I'm still on this side of Heaven, so I still have some 'splaining improving to do.

I have had some parental ups and downs, lately, and I've thought about, obsessed upon, and prayed for strength in response to the downs.  The message I'm hearing isn't one I like very well, but I love the God who sends it:  Perhaps the place to start healing is within me, rather than in those darn kids my amazing children.  Case in point:  Recently, my daughter shared that she felt like essentially, I was never pleased with her, and that she couldn't do anything without me getting frustrated or angry with her. 

Ouch. 

My son has often (and yes, he's a teenager, but) told me..."Please just stop talking.  Leave me alone." 

Pick, pick, pick, anyone?

While I realize that my job is to push these fledglings to grow their wings, and gain a head for responsibility, I need to remember also to do so with gentleness.  Am I:

• Listening?
• Reacting or responding?
• Thinking before I speak?
• Picking my battles?
• Remembering what it's like to be a hormonally driven, angst-filled teenager--fighting to be "cool" and "normal" in the topsy turvy world of middle school and high school?

These are hard lessons for me, because as a prideful human being, I still get stuck in the damaging thinking pattern that my kids are somehow a reflection of my successes and failures as a parent and as a person.  I'm so grateful for God's gentle nudge of conviction upon my heart, for I'm free repent  and to make the choices that He would have me make in raising these gifts from Heaven, with the daily strength and wisdom He provides.  I don't have to be crabby.   I can listen well.  I can pick my battles.  I can speak life, rather than discouragement to my children.  All I have to do is listen to my Father.

How about you?  I'd love to hear about any of your challenges with gentleness, parenting, or otherwise, and how you're facing them.


"Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near."  Philippians 4:5 (NIV)

I Just Read the Neatest Book

For awhile, I had a book blog, because I do lurve to read; and I set a goal of finishing (and reviewing) 50 books in 2011.  Miserable fail.  I unplugged that blog, and decided to include book reviews on this blog, should I read anything I felt moved to share.  Guess what?  I'm moved to share. 

A few days ago, I finished the novel, Delta Girls, by Gayle Brandeis. There are two stories within this novel.  One story is about Karen, the 18 year old competitive pairs figure skater, and her struggle with her strong-willed mother's control over her figure skating career.  The other, is about Izzy, a migrant worker who, with her nine year old daughter, Quinn, finds herself in a new job at a pear orchard, in the Sacramento Delta of CA. 

Both stories within this novel captured my attention immediately and completely.  Brandeis keeps one wondering how they might be related, as they present as differently as night is to day.  I won't go into great detail here, because this novel truly should not be spoiled for anyone. 

I will share this:  I find stories about strong women intriguing; especially when those women find that (previously unbeknownst to them) well of strength to face challenges in their lives.  I also enjoy finding new women authors to share with others.  I cannot wait to see what else Brandeis has written for me to dive into. 

As one reader/reviewer stated, "Reading Brandeis's fiction is like entering an alternative reality where I quickly become part of the family she creates on the pages." I found this to be true, as well. 

Oh, and one other thing.  There are whales in this story.  If you know me at all, you know that she had me at whales.

Review:  4 pages of 5.  Original, engaging storyline.  Rated "PG-13" for a bit of sexual situations here and there; but all of these were, in my opinion, tastefully presented within the realistic arc of the novel. 

"Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?"

"Does anybody really care?"

Sorry.  I was briefly having a Chicago Transit Authority Album moment.

Been learning some lessons about time, lately.  Well, that's not exactly accurate.  I've been learning THE lesson about time, lately. 

Time is not based around my clock/to-do/preference list.  However, it IS based upon God's clock/to-do/preference list.

Shall I end the post here?  Probably should, but I'll paint a little bit more.

I'm a day counter, a clock watcher, and a habitually oh-my-word-we're-running-behind-again person.  As in:

• 12 days before vaca--must lose 30 pounds. 
• Fifteen minutes until "Castle"/30 minutes of  quiet time/20 minutes till I need to leave to pick up (insert name)
• "(insert name), get in the car, NOW because we don't want to be late for (insert activity)!" 

I realize the world in which we live dictates some of this.  I'm a mother in suburbia.  I live in my minivan and by the clock.

However...

I'm learning that God has a different scheme of time and rhythm than the one to which I often subscribe. 

"Another lesson, God?  Couldn't I please just go to Heaven now, and learn my lessons later?" She whines.  Um...nope.

My son had his wisdom teeth removed just under a week ago.  I was a fantastic home nurse for about 3 days, if I do say so, myself.  Then it was time for him to get better.  Really?  I'm that omniscent that I know this?  Why, yes.  It seems I thought so.  He tried school yesterday.  I cajoled and pep-talked and "you can do this"-ed all the way to school.  And, of course, his day was pretty rotten--with most of his teachers mentioning that he probably should've stayed home. 

But...but...but.  He's in a private school.  A private school for which I'm EVER-SO-GRATEFUL, because it meets his needs in brilliant ways.  But a private school, nonetheless, which includes monthly organ donation tuition payments.  He needs to be back in school so that we get the most out of what we're paying for, especially since he has spring break next week. 

Yes.  Just elect me Mother of the Year.

Compassion is clearly my love language. And yes, hindsight is 20/20--I should've scheduled the wisdom teeth for spring break (hangs head).

Because my two children have two different spring breaks, if vacationing, we typically choose to leave during my daughter's break.  Her teachers pile on the homework.  For her to make up time lost from school is harder than for my son to do so.  So, D will miss ANOTHER week of school (hear the money vacuum going again?).

My son's spring break is next week.  Daughter's is the week following his.  If you're still with me, this means he will be spending an inordinate amount of  time out of school.  Cue my anxiety:  Will he get what he needs? Will he be able to re-enter well after so much time away?

But what I'm really asking is:  Will he be okay, God?  Will he go to college?  Will he be a fulfilled, content human being? 

Deeper?  What I'm really,REALLY asking:  Will I be okay, God, if he doesn't do these things?

Only time will tell. 

My life on earth is a gift.  I have earned none of it.  It's not about the money.  It's not about my measure of what's timely and enough.  It's about gratitude and surrender to a holy God who comforts, guides, and provides just what I need. 

In His perfect time. 

 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  Ecclesiates 3:11 (TNIV)

Because you know you have this in your head, now...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBuUUBrC9eQ