Friday, June 01, 2012

Love Isn't

I was thinking today about love.  This was during one of the worst lunches ever with my child.  He was completely out of control, throwing food, jumping on the table, running over to pinch Ellie's leg...you get the picture.  I remained as calm as I could, trying to feed Ellie her lunch.  But it made me stop and think: do I love my son right now?  Well, yes.  Of course.  And even when I completely don't like him much, I still feed him, watch over him, make sure he isn't going to hurt himself or the baby, clothe him, make sure he gets enough sleep and hug him.  What do I get in return?  Really, nothing.  And I'm not even looking. 

I know what it means to love a bratty child.  Once in a great while, he will suddenly kiss me and say, "I love you, momma."  But at nap time, he always snuggles in close, feeling protected and loved.  He gets the reward.  Love?  Yes.  Perhaps love truly isn't a feeling but a choice.  I have known this since my marriage but I have lived this since Xavier.  My reward isn't a gushy, loving feeling.  It isn't constant kisses and hugs and I love yous.  It isn't about the way my kids or my husband treat me, either.  It is, in fact...nothing I get...yet, I receive love back in a thousand ways. 

With Joey, I confess, I do look for rewards and when I look, I'm let down.  My expectations of love are driven by society or how I grew up.  But with my kids, I don't ever look for a reward.  There is nothing to gain over my loving them except that they are loved.  Not even sure if this is making sense.  My bottom line is that we look for other people to please us and that is not love.  We expect the people we love to never let us down and that isn't love, either.  We expect some sort of perfection.  We expect....

Maybe we shouldn't.  Maybe we should just love for the simple gratification of loving despite that person's response.  And of course, there is what I know about love from God, the perfecter and author of love:

1Corinthians 13:4-8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Poop Scooping

Since I have become the mother of one...and then two...I haven't had time, it seems, to write anymore.  And actually, I haven't had time to think anymore.  At least, deep think.  My thoughts are all over the place from "what are we going to eat for dinner" to "who's poopy now?"  And when I have one of those deep thoughts, someone cries out "momma!" and the thought is gone.  But today is different.  Today, I've been deep thinking about some heart issues and prayed both kids would nap simultaneously so I could get those thoughts down.  Here I am.

My deep thoughts do happen but they happen in the shower, in the car, on a run, doing the dishes or, like today, while poop scooping the yard.  Today, I thought about a couple of things. 

First, I thought about depression.  I wonder, how much of our depression is self-inflicted.  Not all of it.  I know this from first hand experience.  After I had Ellison, things were great...for a few weeks.  Then, these uncontrollable feelings...waves of heavy, heaviness, washed over me.  At first, I brushed them aside as I got to know my baby and learned how to care for two.  But it got to be too much one day and I couldn't get out of bed.  It was TOO beautiful outside.  I loved my kids TOO much.  I felt TOO out of control.  I couldn't even really cry...and then I couldn't even really stop.  It was insane.  I felt insane.  My doctor/friend came to my side and listened.  I remember her saying "depression doesn't care who you are or what you think about it."  I considered medication to stop feeling the way I was feeling and though I don't fault others for taking meds, I chose not to.  I wanted to give myself a little time to see if the feelings would pass.  If after a week I still felt heavy under the depression, I would take the meds.  But every day, my husband, kids and I got out of the house.  We went to the zoo, to the museum, the community pool, on a walk, to the mall, to get ice cream, to a park.  Every day, we did something to get me out of the house and enjoy the life I had.  Once I got used to having two kids and once the hormones died down a bit, I was just fine (aside from having the occasional, momentary meltdown). 

Back to the other part of depression...the depression we are responsible for...the self-inflicted.  At times, I am really, really over the top happy.  Nothing could bring me down.  And then, something does and I crash.  BAM.  I'm now at the bottom of the heap looking up.  But what brought me down in the first place?  It was probably a reliance on someone else for my happiness.  Think about it.  If someone else could make me the happiest person on earth and then turn around in a matter of minutes and crush my soul, whose fault is it?  My own.  Everyone will let us down eventually because they are sinners....just like you...just like me.  If you stick around me long enough, I will break your heart.  Intentionally?  Maybe, maybe not.  But even though my goal is to become more and more Christ like, I'm still a silly, little human being with a whole bunch of hang-ups and imperfection.  This is why we put our hope and hang our joy on Jesus.  This is why we focus on the cross and what He did for us so that we could have a relationship with God.  When we live THAT way, people cannot steal our joy so easily.  We also see others for the fallible people they really are and how fallible we are ourselves.  There is more forgiveness when we remember that we are all sinners.  There is more room for mistakes, too and forgiveness after someone hurts us.  

My other thought went along with this first thought.  I was holding Ellison as she drifted off to sleep just a few moments ago and thought I heard Xavier waking up.  I quickly prayed that he wasn't waking up because if he did, I knew he would come into Ellison's room crying and carrying on until he had all of my attention.  It doesn't matter to him that I have to get her down for a nap, too.  It doesn't matter to him how tired Ellison is.  Actually, none of Ellison's needs matter to Xavier because he is two and a half.  All he can see is himself.  Forget the sun.  The world truly does revolve around him.  And Xavier will continue to be like this unless we teach him otherwise.  It will be a process over time but he will learn empathy.  How many of us don't ever learn that?  How many of us truly still act as if our needs and wants are first and foremost?  How often do I act like a two-year-old but can disguise it as an adult-type tantrum?  

Joey and I have been married four years and we are still learning to get along.  It is a process.  We grew up differently and I was on my own way before Joey ever was.  I also lived for myself for a lot longer than Joey did.  Marriage and being in this relationship is harder for me in a lot of ways.  My tendency is to run.  When things get tough, I want to run.  Thankfully, I only run to our bedroom or the bathroom or the basement.  I don't go far but I still go...and I come back.  Joey and I are changing but we still struggle with trying to change each other.  Please know that whenever you start a sentence with "why can't you just....!" you are unfairly trying to control the other person and change them into the perfection you know they should be (ha ha).  Another good one is "if you would just....!"  Oh yeah.  That is going to solve a lot of problems (and create a lot more).  If people would stop trying to change each other and instead, take a look at their own part in the problem, I do believe we would all get closer to true joy.  An example of this goes back to my dear sweet son.

Xavier and I don't always get along.  In fact, he will push me away, bite, kick, pinch and hit me.  My tendency is to get super pissed and react.  This morning,  I asked God for change...but this time, I asked Him to change me, not Xavier.  Instead of reacting, I rolled with it.  I redirected.  I explained.  I taught.  I tolerated a little more.  I disciplined differently.  There are no immediate results of MY change but I didn't do this in hopes of changing Xavier.  I did this because my heart needed to.  I heard someone say the other day regarding their Christian father, "if God is anything like my dad, I don't want anything to do with Him."  That sank into my heart like a punch in the face.  I am NOT the perfect parent that God is but I do want to reflect God back to my son and daughter.  Maybe this will improve the relationship between Xavier and I and maybe it won't.  The goal is to teach X about Christ's love and do so by living it out.

So, those were my deep thoughts today...while scooping poop.  And I really think these thoughts were scooping the poop in my own life...the junk that needs to go away.  I don't want to just read it, pray it, think it, though.  I want the Holy Spirit to help me live the change...from the inside out.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

"Yesterday"

My husband said, "It seems like it was yesterday."

I said, "It seems like a lifetime ago."

I lived in a different city, away from my family. I was dating someone else. I had different friends. Joey Corr was just a guy I went to high school with who got his hair cut by my mom. There was no X-man. No Ellie Sparkles. I had such a different view of life. I didn't have Christ.

I miss the people I was close to back then but other than that, I am thankful for what I've been given 10 years later. It's weird...watching this special on September 11, 2001 while my baby giggles in her sleep.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Baby Girl

I'm about to become a mother...again. Yes, my mama's baby girl is having a baby girl...I just don't know when. By now (as of today), I had already given birth to Xavier. I'm wondering if Ellison is going to make me wait this out. I feel my body changing but then it goes back to being the same. Of course, we started a home project of ripping up the floor in the front room yesterday and my house is a disaster...so I should go into labor tonight (ha ha).

Joey has been amazing. We were taking turns sleeping in the basement (something about my snoring sent Joey down there last week) but now, he thinks it is better if I sleep down there so I can save my energy up to deliver this baby. Xavier was sleeping through the night (and slept through two major thunderstorms last week) but is now up about 3 times a night for some reason. He's also not eating much. He's doing all of this to drive me crazy just before I have a newborn to take care of...I am on to his plan.

I'm feeling excited about meeting Ellison...but honestly, I'm getting a little too nervous about labor and delivery. It was not fun the first time but oddly enough, I hope things go just as well.

So, any day now, Ellison...any day now...

Thursday, April 01, 2010

Crying It Out

***Warning--this is a highly opinionated blog post***

When Xavier was just a few days old, Joey and I were sitting on our bed trying to figure out how to get him to sleep. He was crying. Joey suggested we let him "cry it out." I considered it. After all, I wasn't sure where I'd heard about crying it out before but it seemed like it was something I was supposed to do as a parent. Xavier went on crying for the next 30 seconds.

"Let's let him cry it out tomorrow," I said. And I might as well say that every day.

I read about "crying it out" in my Baby 411 book. The authors (who are doctors) tried to stress that you CANNOT SPOIL A NEWBORN. They have extremely immature nervous systems and do not know how to calm themselves down. Crying is also the only way babies know how to communicate. It made sense to me. It made me feel good because God forbid I start spoiling (aka ruining my child) this early in life.

On New Year's Day, Joey's well meaning aunts gave me the same advice: don't be afraid to let Xavier cry it out. I disagreed and they looked at me like I was just a foolish, new mom who didn't know anything, yet. But I do know the sound of my son's cries and how they alert me to his needs. Why would I want to stop them?

The idea of spoiling was in the Holy Bible but not THIS idea of spoiling. People seem to think if you hold your baby too much or respond to his needs too much, you will over indulge him. I was thinking about that the other day. Let's pretend I did let Xavier cry it out.

Xavier: (crying after 2 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! My diaper is wet and uncomfortable. Please come change it!
Me: No, Xavier. Cry it out.
Xavier: (crying after 4 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! I'm hungry and just need to eat so I can calm myself down!
Me: No. Cry it out.
Xavier: (crying hard after 7 minutes of me letting him C.I.O.) Mom! I don't know how to stop crying, yet. Please help me soothe myself and calm me! I'm spinning out of control.
Me: No. Cry it out.
Xavier: (still crying but realizing his cries are not being heard...or ignored) Mom? Where are you? I need you. I need you to help me. I need to be held and rocked and...
Perhaps this is when he does pass out after crying himself to sleep. And maybe the next night he goes straight to sleep because he has learned his crying will not get him what he needs.

Screw that. Seriously.

I was talking to a woman at bible study who has a daughter a few months older than Xavier. Of course, the question is always asked, "are you getting any sleep?" I gave my usual answer about how X wakes up every 2-3 hours to eat. Then, I asked her if she was getting sleep. She said yes. She and her husband were following the Babywise book which is where you basically let the baby cry it out. "You know, it was really, really hard but now, she sleeps through the night," this mom told me. You know, it was really, really hard because it is supposed to be. Those cries are there for a reason and bother mom for a reason.

To all other parents who want to C.I.O., go for it. But it really pisses me off when people suggest it to me. I will not leave my baby alone to cry and be ignored. F that. Instead, we are reading Happiest Baby On The Block. We started swaddling Xavier again (yes, at three months) and now he sleeps for 4 hours straight, wakes up briefly for a diaper change and to eat and then sleeps another 2 hours straight (and will sleep again for 2 hours after 1 more diaper change and eating session).

Now, when he is older...older than one year...I might but only when he is trying to manipulate me. That ain't happin' yet.

I thought perhaps my feelings on C.I.O. were a little too strong or maybe even a little naive until the other day when Joey said the following...out of the blue:
You know, my son deserves every bit of love I can give him. If I let him cry it out, I'm not loving him the way I should. I'm not going to do something just so it is more convenient for me.

I walked over and kissed him. See, we are on the same page...and I didn't even have to nag him :o)

Of course, this brings up a future topic...attachment parenting or baby training?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Loophole

I am now a mother.

Crazy to even write that let alone comprehend it.

When I started this blog, I was in my 20s, single and a new Christian. Both my grandmas were alive, my dad could talk to me and I only dreamed of what my own family would one day look like.

Here they are.

Joey, Xavier, Titan, Chessie and Hemi--my family.

When we brought Xavier home, we were such amateurs. We put him between us on the bed (up by our heads) and didn't sleep at all. I couldn't understand my intense protection and love for this little baby. I praised God for answering my prayers regarding my pregnancy, labor, delivery, and now this beautiful boy.

And then, Kim gave birth to her second stillborn girl.

I couldn't understand it. I was crushed. I couldn't accept that a righteous, just God would do this a second time. I held my baby closer than before. There was no way this angry God would take my child from me. Somehow, my anger at God changed to an unhealthy fear of Him. I feared His will to be able to take the ones I love from me. I tightened my grip around them and refused to let go.

For the first time, I was going through a period where I didn't trust the Lord. I just didn't. I quit praying. I quit talking to Him. I quit talking about Him. I quit singing songs and praising Him. I wondered if Satan had found a loophole with me: I will follow God unless He takes my family. I just don't think I could follow Him if that happened.

But I've also felt an emptiness since all of this has happened. Jesus fills my heart and my soul. He is my friend and it is weird not talking to someone because you are so pissed at them. I struggled with all of this and finally prayed for the Holy Spirit to be stirred in me.

I knew I needed Him but I didn't know how to reconcile and makes sense of everything.

A week went by.

And then another week.

And another week.

On my way to visit Kim, I found out a close friend of mine had another miscarriage. I also heard reports of the new orphans in Haiti. My heart was just breaking all over the damn place. I wanted to talk to God but I just couldn't "pick up the phone."

That night...or early morning...maybe around 2:30ish...I was trying to get Xavier to sleep. I was rocking him in my arms as I walked around the house pausing to look out windows. I often comment on the miracles in creation I see to God but lately, those conversations had been silenced. I came to the back, sliding glass door and looked out at the blankets of snow. Yes, I thought, they really do look like white blankets. The stars were shining and the trees stood bare. Suddenly, lyrics came to my mind....

"Oh Lord, Please light the fire
that once burned bright and clear
Replace the lamp of my first love
that burns with Holy Fear."

The lyrics didn't flow from my memory. They staggered and came in confusing bits and pieces...but I knew the gist of what my heart wanted. I needed my heavenly Father. I needed to apologize to Him for acting like a spoiled brat. I needed His forgiveness because I had been acting like my own god. I just needed Him.

That Sunday at church, James Granger's teaching drew me closer to Jesus. Then, I watched Joyce Meyer talk about suffering on Monday morning. At BSF, a woman spoke about a terrible disease she has that could end her life soon but she said she wouldn't die one minute sooner than when God wanted her to.

God is in control. God IS in control.

It feels wonderful to talk freely to God again. I still struggle with understanding all of this hurt but I would rather struggle with God than to struggle on my own.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Healing

It is crazy funny how the human mind works sometimes. Our emotions can totally control our actions and I have a constant fight against these emotions when they aren’t warranted. I want to live in the truth not based on emotion. I don’t want to make a decision based on a feeling. “Well…I just FEEL like I should.” Of course, I don’t want to shut out the emotions, either. Razor’s edge. Balance.

So I’m all strong in my walk, right? I’m in the word, listening to Christian teachings, praying, helping others. Recently, I’ve been helping someone going through a tough time and have been relating this person back to my tough time. In fact, Joey and I, with some caution, can laugh about the time we went through together…well, with A LOT of caution. When I talk about the situation, it doesn’t sting the way it used to three years, two years and even a bit a year ago. I thought to myself, “look how far I’ve come! Look how much time has healed me! Look how we can communicate and help others using our pain as an example!”

And then…then I see a picture and I’m sent into an insecure tailspin all over. Who am I kidding? I’m just as vulnerable as anyone else. It does still hurt. I’m not completely over it. Time doesn’t heal.

“Give it time,” people say.

Bull shit.

Give it Jesus.

If time healed, I think three years ought to bury everything a few times over. But Christ deals with me. Yes, I just had a stumbling moment and my tendency wants to obsess, call Joey to have him build me up and toss some banana peels into my thinking Delorean. Instead, I’m writing this, calling on Jesus to help me through and wanting to move forward.

Friends who love me: Check
Family who supports me: Check
Husband who cares for me: Check
Jesus who brings me from darkness to light: Check

Back to my Base.

You are so good to me,
You heal my broken heart,
You are my Father in Heaven
You ride upon the clouds
You lead me to the truth
You are the Spirit inside me

You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
And I will sing again

You are my strong melody, You are my dancing rhythm
You are my perfect rhyme
And I will sing of You forever

You poured out all Your blood
You died upon the cross
You are my Jesus who loves me

You are my Father in heaven
You are the Spirit inside me
You are my Jesus who loves me

You Are So Good To Me~Third Day

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Pregnant? Me? Really??!

I just could not believe I was pregnant. I thought for sure we would struggle to conceive like so many of our friends. That just seems like the norm these days. I asked for more proof. I wanted to see this little being. Amanda ordered an ultrasound.

I was 7 weeks pregnant when we went in for the ultrasound. The tech brought us into the room, turned down the lights and had me get on the table. I was somewhat relaxed until she put the jelly on my abdomen and started looking for baby. As she moved the thingy ma bob around my belly, I almost was holding my breath. She said nothing. Why not? I became anxious. I told myself, "see, you can't carry this baby. You don't deserve to. You've already lost it." But the other half was praying to God, "please, please, please...I want this baby."

A song popped into my head (they often do) that made my eyes start to well up with tears.

Why are you looking for love?
Why are you still searching
as if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
to where will you run

'Cause I'll be by your side wherever you fall
in the dead of night whenever you call
and please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you....

I wanted to scream out to this lady, "WHAT IS GOING ON? IT HAS BEEN 5 MINUTES AND YOU'VE SAID NOTHING." Suddenly, the tech said, "Ah...baby," and she flipped on the microphone. The sound of the baby's heartbeat flooded my ears. Tears slipped out of my eyes as I looked at Joey and thanked God. A little heartbeat. Everything looked fine so far.

Oh...and we found out my platelets were never low. They just clump. How stupid. All of those blood draws for nothing. But it was still a great story and we used it as a cover until we were ready to tell people our wonderful news.

Friday, July 10, 2009

There goes 2009... (The Bump Story Begins...)

The last time I wrote on this blog I had no idea I was pregnant...or actually, just barely pregnant. But I was...and my life was about to change drastically. So was my faith.





Not to get too personal but we did conceive somewhere in March...around the 21st but that is not how you count pregnancy dates. You go from the first day of your last period (ewwww!). So, by the end of March, I was about 3 weeks. I went to the doctor on March 9th or 10th for a check up. She put me on Vitamin D pills which she said may help me get pregnant and had me get my blood drawn. All of it was routine. Nothing our of the ordinary. But wow, did my March and April get crazy fast.





On our around March 4, I filled in as a substitute for the 8th grade P.E. teacher. She was actually a long term sub filling in for Mr. Stierly who was filling in for a math teacher. The math teacher's husband was really ill. They had tried to fill the math position with a qualified substitute but decided to put Mr. Stierly in there as he is certified to teach math. They switched the math sub and the P.E. teacher around. On March 11th, I got a phone call from the Holt Jr. High principal. He requested a meeting with me for later THAT HOUR. Lucky for me, I was able to make it. I was told that the sub for P.E. was not working out. Would I be willing to step in until Spring Break?





Hecks yeah! I mean, it was EVERYTHING I wanted as a substitute. I would have my own classes with my own kids (the new tri-mester had just started two days earlier), I would be in a building with my husband, and my pay would go up. I felt soooo blessed but I had no clue how much of a blessing it would become.





Here are the key dates (that I can remember)


March 10: Routine check up with new doctor


March 12: New temporary long-term sub position starts


March 15: Blood draw


March 17 (Tuesday): Amanda (soon to be doctor) tells me my platelets came back low. I had 60,000. I should have 150,000.


March 18: Go get more blood drawn at lunch.


March 23: I now have 80,000 platelets...but why so low? Go back to my doctor. Referred to an oncologist. I'm a little freaked out. Mention to my doctor that I needed the German Measles vaccination (my last OB/GYN tested me for it and said I needed it again). Dr. agreed and gave me a pregnancy test (can't get the vaccine if you are pregnant). I remember waiting for the test and wondering what I would do if they came back and said I was pregnant The nurse informed me the test was negative. I was disappointed but not surprised. They gave me the shot. Had it been the next day or even the day after that, the test would have been different :o)


March 30: Had to see a Gastrointerologist (not sure of that's the real name but someone who had to take a look at my intestines--guy was super creepy and I never went back. Everything was fine anyhow). Blood drawn again.


March 31: Met with Dr. Kaluza (Oncologist). She said I needed to go back for another blood draw because the last draw came back incomplete. Incomplete?! Bah... She also told me that until we got the platelet issue figured out, I should wait to start a family. She asked me to give it 6 months. I agreed but was sad.


April 1: Blood draw and Dr. Appt. AHHHH!


April 6: Spring Break begins


April 7: Brett came over for dinner. Drank margaritas.


April 8: Dr. called. Platelets had clumped again. I needed ANOTHER blood draw. THIS TIME, I needed to tell them that my platelets clump so they put the blood in a vile with a purple top (different viles have different colored tops indicating different medications). Blood draw

April 9: Yi and Jenny came over for dinner for Jenny's birthday. We drank a bottle of wine.

April 10: Went to Marshall, MI with Joey to sample beer at Dark Horse Brewery. While we are there, we get a phone call that I might be needed as the P.E. sub thru the end of the year. I was excited because I had bonded with the students. I was also going to be paid even more. But the downside was that it meant someone else was sick. Really sick.

April 13: I'm exhausted. Joey and I started going home for lunch and I would take a quick 10 minute nap. I also wonder why I haven't started, yet. I'm a few days late. But all the signs were there so I didn't think it through much. It must be the platelets...

April 15: Half day of school in the morning. Went to the teacher's meeting at 7:30 and around 8:45, I ask Joey if he wants to go with me to get a pregnancy test. I doubted it would be positive but....might as well. We had time to kill. First, we went to Pet Supplies Plus for fish food. As you can see, we did not think we were pregnant. We bought a generic Rite Aid test and took it to the school as kids would be showing up in 40 minutes or so. The only restroom near Joey's class is the boy's restroom (which the school keeps locked). Sooooo, that was the restroom I took the pregnancy test in. I waited in the stall and watched the lines and colors change. Nope. I'm not...wait. Can I see the directions again? Joey took a look. "It's positive," he said. I wasn't convinced. No way. I called the doctor's office in a panic. What about that vaccine?? What about my platelets?? Ah! I took another test that afternoon in the girl's locker room. Positive. Dr. Amanda told us to come into the office and get an official test. After school, we drove in disbelief. I took the test again in disbelief. Amanda opened the door to the waiting room with a smile on her face. I was in disbelief. She brought us in a private room and said, "YOU are pregnant!" My eyes filled with tears in disbelief. So did Joey's.



I had a million questions but my heart was racing. I didn't want anyone to know, either but I needed prayers. I felt so insecure...like this couldn't really happen to me. I didn't deserve to have a baby. Surely, like so many of my friends, I would miscarry. Where the crap was my faith?

Saturday, March 21, 2009

The days go by...

Things have been non-stop lately. I meant to write every day and thought I could get by on once a week...which as you can see didn't turn out, either. So, here is an update on my father.

He is home. After a month of being in the in-patient rehap at Sparrow, he came home two weeks ago. Just last week, he was able to start moving his right leg. This is an answered prayer. Still, no movement in the right hand--YET. Also, not talking...yet. He tries to talk but it still isn't freely coming out. You can show him a cup but he can't say the word unless you write the word for him. Most words he can get when they are written...except television. Man, does he try to say that word. He practices it over and over again.

I miss my dad. I miss talking to him and laughing with him. I get down sometimes about it. I look down sometimes about it. The looking down thing got me a few weeks ago. I didn't sleep for two nights in a row because I couldn't quit thinking about all the things that might go wrong. This would be called Not Trusting God. I had to let it all go and remember three things about worry:
1.) When you worry you are playing God. You are not God and are not in control. He is. So let go and let God.
2.) When you worry, you are pretty much saying that God is done working in your life. He isn't. Let Him be in control.
3.) "The attitude of faith does not worry, fret, or have anxiety concerning tomorrow, because faith understands that wherever it needs to go, even into the unknowns of the future, Jesus has already been there." Joyce Meyer

As for my dad, I kind of related the situation like this: your house burns down destroying everything you have inside...but everyone made it out alive. You move forward, not focusing on what was lost but on the new beginnings, the new way of life.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Week Two--Don't Look Down

I thought I had better update on week two as we are about to tackle week three. Last Sunday, Joey and I watched half the Super Bowl with dad. He was definitely rooting for the Cardinals and not the Steelers. He was also trying desperately to communicate something to Joey and I. He kept tapping two fingers on his knee. Every response I gave frustrated him. I wasn't understanding. Joey suddenly said, "two words." Dad shook his head yes with excitement. Shit. He was playing Charades with us! Now this would not be too unusual for dad because as a family, we did and do play Charades. Some of my favorite memories are because of this game. Anyhow, we figured out that he needed something...but what. I asked him if he needed a beer. Yes was the verbal response. I laughed. No way was he getting a beer from me. Anyhow, we never did figure out what it was he wanted...or needed. But we had a small breakthrough when dad was pointing to his bed. Joey asked if he wanted to get in bed. He rolled his eyes and shook his head no. He continued to point to the bed. Did he want a pillow? A blanket? No...NO! It suddenly occured to me that he wanted something on the night stand. Joey picked up a Tootsie Pop. YES! That was what he wanted. Relief. He was also really cute because he kept putting his 3D glasses on.

My aunt Ginny and Uncle Lynn came to see him on Monday. Joey and I went out to dinner with them and drank wine. I'm so glad they came to see me...I mean him :o)

I didn't go up to see dad Tues, Wed or Thurs because I was battling a cold. Lucky for me, the cold never quite moved past the first few stages. I never had the full out symptoms. Friday, I got to see dad in physical therapy. It is still too early to know if he'll regain any mobility on his right side. His speech therapist is really hopeful, though. He can count and say a few words. I swear, it's like I hold my breath waiting to hear his voice and then I get excited just to hear him say simple words like "bye" "wait" "no" "yes". Baby steps....

So, now we are on to week 4. wow. Really? Seems like this whole thing just happened. Oh, and an update on my step-mom...I think she is holding up well. She is definitely trying to be at his therapy sessions. She is doing an awesome job at communicating to him and trying new ways of communication (tic-tac-toe, a deck of cards). She has been amazing.

Oh...and me. Well, I guess I can explain it like this: I'm afraid of heights. I can't go up in a ferris wheel without freaking. I can get on an airplane and ride a roller coaster...so I'm not always afraid. I'm even more afraid in my dreams. I've had dreams where I'll be in a tall building and suddenly the whole building is made of glass and I'm standing on a glass floor way up in the air. THAT is what I feel like now. I'm on this glass walkway and I have to stay focused on getting to the other side, to safety...or I have to focus on Christ and trust God so I need to look up...because the second I look down, I freak out. I panic. I start to wallow. I start to miss my dad. I think negative thoughts. So...I continue to look ahead and up.

Thank you for all of your prayers. We really do need them.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Update on Dad

It has been a crazy week. Crazy.

Saturday--Dad could somewhat speak. Somewhat. When asked, he could say Holly, although it wasn't perfect. "Joey" sounded more like Jodi. But hey, he was comprehending and he could walk with assistance. The doctors said his prognosis was favorable. I thought for sure after some sleep he would be a little better.

Sunday--He was worse. I walked in expecting way more than I got. He barely said anything. He was frustrated. He was losing some of the feeling on his right side. He wasn't comprehending. The doctors were negative. I felt panic. He had another stroke. Still, when they moved him to the step down unit (less critical), he walked.

Monday--I went up to see him after school. He was about the same. Tried to speak but it came out funny. Then, he would get frustrated. I didn't stay very long.

Tuesday--Again, visited him after work (school). He seemed worse. He could barely move his right hand and leg. What was going on?

Wednesday--I had a crappy day at East Lansing High School. I will never sub there again. It was only a half day in the Resource Room. Yeah...should have been easy. I assisted the lead teacher in first hour, had planning second hour and then had to give an open book test in 3rd hour. The kids in this 3rd hour were tough kids. They were a heartbeat away from being kicked out. In fact most of them left for the career center after this class. One kid kept swearing up a storm...he didn't even care I was right in front of him. I kindly asked him to stop. Normally, I would send his butt to the office but I knew that if I could keep him on my good side, I could stand him for the 50 minutes. But then, he pulled out a pocket knife. Seriously? I sat there trying to figure out what to do. At Holt, I would know to push the emergency button. At EL, no clue. I didn't want a confrontation with him so I didn't draw attention to the knife. Trying to figure out how I could get to the office with my stuff without him knowing left ME almost paralyzed with fear. I decided to not say anything to him. After class, I reported it to the office and left...for good.

I felt better thinking about how I would have all afternoon to spend with dad but that changed when I saw him. He could no longer move his right arm or leg. It was like they were dead to him. I tried not to make a big deal about it but asked the nurse what was up. She kind of blew me off saying something about a change, waxing and waning and how she would talk to me when she returned from her break. Dad and I watched TV (that is the only thing he wants to do) and ate Jelly Bellys. Dad's friend Tom came to visit. We watched as the Speech Therapist worked with dad. She saw some improvement in his comprehension. Good news...finally! Tom and I had a chance to talk about everything that was happening. There was a funny moment we had which involved my dad(not going to go into it, though). Dad couldn't quite get that he couldn't use his right side so he tried to take himself to the bathroom. He had no balance at all. Two women had to take him. I finally realized something was really wrong and said I wanted to see his doctor. The doctor happened to be just down the hall. He explained that dad's stroke may not have completed itself and there was still a lot of swelling in the brain.

"So, I have to sit and watch him get worse?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do," came the answer.

I had to excuse myself to cry that one out. The brain is such a mystery. So is my dad right now. After my moment, I went back to his room and was shocked to see him sitting up! His balance was back. I guess that is the way it goes with a stroke.

Thursday--I didn't go up to see him. I wanted him to rest.

Friday--He was about the same but seemed to be more in tune with his right side. He rubbed his hand and tried to answer questions. He finally was moved into the In-Patient rehab. Yay! He has his own room and is right outside the nurse's station. He and I watched something on the History Channel about Hitler's Family. I had been missing my dad a lot but this soothed me.

Saturday--Walked into Dad's room to see him sitting in the big chair, with shorts and a t-shirt, watching basketball. He looks so normal. He got excited when he saw my sister and I but couldn't say anything that made sense. I spent a lot of time with him this afternoon. After everyone else left, he turned the channel to Braveheart and we both fell asleep watching it.

I miss talking to my dad and have this need to see him every day. I don't think I have seen my dad every day since we were working at the golf course together. But I know this isn't it. I know he will improve. Anyhow, that is my update.

Also, one more thing. Not everyone has access to this here blog so please don't make mention of it on Facebook. My dad is a pretty modest and a private person which is way I'm not saying too much on FB. I'm sorry I didn't mention this before and no hard feelings to anyone :o)

Friday, January 23, 2009

So....here I am....

Today sucked. It made me realize just how much I've grown up and how childish I still am. See...a lot has happened to this little life of mine in the past year. Last January, my independent Grandmother almost died but ended up okay...just in a retirement home. I saw her life completely change. And my life...well...we all know...I moved, took a husband, changed my name, address, social security, benefits, quit my job...yeah...lots of changes. I almost felt like I wasn't me anymore.

But I still have Christ. Thank you...God :o)

And now...on this cold, snowy evening...I wrestle with the latest change in my life: my father just had a stroke. What the hell? Seriously? This stuff doesn't happen to parents. It might happen to grandparents but my mom and dad are young. At least...the last time I noticed. I guess I haven't been paying attention to the time...because my life has been changing every day. At least it wasn't serious but seeing him laying there, unable to communicate except for a few words...it left me wanting to scream STOP! NO MORE CHANGES, LORD...please. But if there aren't going to be anymore changes, then I'm never going to grow...and I'll never have a better job...and if there aren't any changes in my life, then I would never welcome a baby into ours. So, I guess it is bittersweet...like the wine I'm drinking right now.

I hate January.
Wow....there are a lot of cobwebs here.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Top Lessons from Wedding

1.) Eat without Us!
2.) List of pictures I wanted
3.) Talk to DJ at least 3 days before wedding.
4.) Go into florist to see flowers or pictures of flowers three days before wedding.
5.) Back up DVD player.
6.) Make sure all dances took place we wanted to take place.
7.) Give the reception facility 10-15 people less then what you expect.
8.) Hair trial—a few of them.
9.) Cake—eat it right there and then—don’t save it!
10.) 2 people pulling the aisle runner.
11.) Have Reta do all the flowers—all of them.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Wedding Day Part 2: The Ceremony

I was about to walk down the aisle but I was tripping on my dress. This would not do at all. I was in panic city as Jenny left through the doors down the aisle. I can’t remember the woman’s name (she works at Riverview) but she told me to give my dad my flowers and pick my dress up off the floor. I would have to hold the front. No. I didn’t want to do that. I reluctantly gave my dad the flowers as Kelly left through the doors. My sister was next and then me. My sister suddenly turned around got under my dress and pushed the hoop skirt way up. Then, she was gone. We were next.

I remember Bradley pulling the aisle runner and hearing people laugh. I remember the doors closing. I remember the weight of my bouquet as I took it back from my dad. This was it. I was floating. Bradley had to pass me as he went to the side door and back up to the front. He gave me a smile and I think he touched my arm. Oh…my little nephew all grown up…almost grown up. The doors opened and Devon nodded for us to go. So…we went.

I wanted to look side to side to see all the people there. I thought that was what I would do but now all I cared about was getting down that aisle without tripping on my dress. My dad had told me we would get through it and go slowly. I felt like we were going slow but now…now I was totally focused on something else.



See, there was this guy standing at the front of the church. He looked so good in a tux and he was clean shaven. I knew this guy. He was the one who told me when we were in high school how he would date me if he had the chance. He told me years later that he was going to marry me someday. I fought him so hard on it. We came close to walking away from each other on windy day in November 2005 but there he was, at the end of the aisle. He was waiting for me, just like he always has, always does. Our eyes locked and I didn’t take my gaze away from him the entire time. And I could not stop smiling. No tears, just smiles. And I made it down the aisle without tripping. :o)


The ceremony began and when my dad was asked who gives the bride away, my dad happily surprised me by responding, “her Lord, her family and her friends do.” My Lord. It immediately reminded me that God was standing there, too. And my friends…they were there…giving me away. How many girls have their friends give them away? I loved my daddy’s statement. It fit me so perfectly.

During the ceremony, I was calm but I noticed every time something didn’t go the right way. Like how people didn’t stand during my favorite hymn or no one was singing together. Or when the wrong music started at the wrong time. And how I had told Kristen to only sing the first and last verse of “Nothing But The Blood” but Joey had secretly asked her to sing the whole thing (I’m glad he did).

The bouquet…as pretty as it was, was so heavy my arm was killing me. Joey tried to help hold it up. Finally, it was time to give the bouquet to my sister and let her deal with it. Joey and I went to light the candles and Dan started playing the music to “When I Sing.” I waited…and waited…and waited for him to start singing the words to the song but nothing was coming. I panicked a little thinking, “oh no. He thinks I only wanted the instrumental version! Crap…” But then, the words came. And the song was so beautiful, it was the only time I almost cried. We ended the ceremony on a happy note with a happy song and then, roll the credits. We were hitched.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Wedding Day Part 1

It’s been 3 months. I still haven’t finished my wedding day story. So, here I go in three parts. Part 1 being called, “How it all falls apart.”

My last thoughts before falling asleep the night before my wedding were full of so much peace and hope. The alarm was set for 6:30ish and Yi was sleeping beside me…but I was up. I made my way to the window which looked out on the Red Cedar. Could I see the moon before it set? Now I don’t remember if it was the moon or the last star. I do remember talking to God and asking Him to be with me all day long. I prayed for Joel and Noah and all of Susan’s loved ones. I knew they would be waking up to a nightmare of not having her here. I wanted a stress free day. I really did. No…really. But here it goes…blunders and all.

I took a long shower. I remember that. I just stood there under the warm water and let my mind go blank. I used too much conditioner in my hair, too. Huge mistake I would hear about later. I got ready with my girls, had my usual breakfast of Trail Mix Grape Nuts with bananas. Yi, Becky and Jenny were amazing in making sure I was doing okay. Becky even went down to the kitchen to get me skim milk which is why I love Becky Luebke. We put my stuff behind the front desk because the room Joey and I were staying in was occupied. We walked out to the limo-van-bus thing and marveled. Dang that thing was cool. Kelly and Krissie arrived. We boarded and left for my mom’s work in Holt to get our hair did. I felt like I was floating down the road with my best friends. When we turned into my mom’s work, nerves started attacking me again.







The Make-Up and The Hair
Here is the unnecessary background. I wanted Zaina to do my make-up. We had a trial run in January. I wanted another trial run at her house where we could spend more time on it. So, in March, we went over to Z’s house and worked out a make-up plan. During this make-up plan, Zaina started playing with my hair, showing me the different things I could do. I liked it but didn’t have time to talk about hair. We scheduled another time to meet but after several cancelations, it wasn’t until the beginning of May that I finally had Zaina come up with a style for me. I wanted my sides pulled back and loose waves. Simple…but not. Now, in the meantime, my mom wanted to know who was going to do my hair. Remember, my mom is a hairstylist and has been doing hair for 40 years. I was getting married on a Sunday so I was limited to hairstylists. My mom had some of her co-workers and friends come in. I mentioned I might have Liz do my hair. MIGHT. MAYBE. But then I told my mom Zaina was going to do it. The question came: does Zaina have a license to do hair?

Ummmm….she should. But she doesn’t…yet. But so what. Don’t ask don’t tell…right?

We arrived to the salon and Liz immediately started messing with my hair. I felt so uncomfortable. Had my mom not told her Z was doing it? Z was there and ready to go. My mom arrived and told me to just go sit down and let Zaina curl my hair. So I did. Except the curling iron was not working because I had put too much conditioner in my hair. GRRRRRR. My mom pretty much pushed Zaina out of the way and threw hot rollers in. I asked Zaina to just do my make up. When the curlers were ready to come out, I pulled Zaina into the bathroom. We were both feeling icky like, “what the heck is going on with these other people?!” Zaina said, “Just let Liz do your hair. That makes everything easy.”





I headed over to Liz’s chair and Jenny was just getting her hair finished. She turned around and everything in me wanted to bust up laughing. And this is why I love Jenny Cole so much. She looked at me with a huge smile and said knowingly, “what is so funny, Holly?” She had a beehive hair do. No lie. Now….it was my turn?!!?! Oh God NO! But I sat down and was subjected to some of the toughest hair pushing and pulling ever. My head hurt. And the curls were horribly tight. When Liz finished, I wanted to cry. It wasn’t Liz’s fault. I never sat down with her to show her what I wanted. But Zaina knew. Zaina whispered in my ear, “don’t worry. I’ll fix it at the church.” And that is why I love Zaina Holcomb. After everyone’s hair and make-up was finished (and after some weirdness over the payments—my mom ended up paying for everyone’s hair—I love my mom) we left to pick up the groom’s sister, Rebecca.








We pulled up in front of the house and my soon-to-be father-in-law came onto the bus to give me a hug. Then, the mom came on, too. But when Rebecca walked out of the house and on to the party bus, I just about lost it. Her hair was exactly how I wanted mine to be done. I whispered to Krissie “that’s the hair I wanted.” My eyes filled with tears. Krissie immediately started running her fingers through the curls to get them to loosen up. This is why I love Krissie Krenz.

Driving to McAllister’s to eat lunch, I tried to calm myself down. I was so thirsty. Krissie and I split a sandwich (I think) and I had a lemonade but it was too sweet. And now, my nerves were really up. I was pretty quiet as we sped back toward the church. I remember Lyndsay just loving the bus ride. She acted like it was all for her which was cute. I saw the church come into view and wanted to throw up from excitement. I wanted my dress on now. I wanted to get the party started.

When we pulled into the drive and parked in front of the church, I got out but was quickly told that the bridal room wasn’t ready. Back on the bus. Man, I was so antsy! Emmalee and Alex Thill got on the bus to give me a hug. Several other popped their head in to wave. We danced and sang and waited. Finally, we could go in. Unfortunately, my dress wasn’t there yet. So, I went back outside and sat on the grassy island in the driveway. This is the spot I had sat in 24 hours before, sobbing for Susan. This was the spot I had sat in so many times…so many times. Becky joined me and we talked about nothing too important. Just having her right there was important enough. Zaina arrived and so did my dress. We went inside.

I think this was when Zaina took my hair out and started to fix it. My sister, God love her, had said, to me before Z got there, “if you want to change your hair, just do it before mom gets here.” That was good for me to hear. My sister and I both understand how personal our mother takes our hair. So Zaina turned to Devon, our wedding coordinator, and said, “when the bride’s mom gets here, we need a warning. Do you know which one she is?” Devon replied, “Yes I do” and left to wait in the lobby. Z took out the hair pins and did my hair over. It was exactly the way I wanted it. I started to get teary and Zaina said, “stop it. You’ll ruin your make-up.” Suddenly, Devon opened the door to our room, closed it and barely had time to say, “bride’s mom….right behind me.” I started laughing a little at the scene. Me, a grown woman, having someone warn me of my mom’s presence, as if my mom would unleash wrath on me or something. Not the case. I simply explained the situation to her. She smoothed out the top and we were good to go. My hair story is finished!




The DJ
Why?!?!?!!? This just really gets me….really. I’m standing there, about to put my wedding dress on when someone hands me the phone and says, “its Amanda.” Now, Amanda is part of the DJ-Photographer-Wedding Coordinator package we received from Rick. Amanda was at my house talking to Joey. “Could you tell me your set list for the wedding?” she asked. Are you kidding me!?!?! Joey and I had submitted it on Friday night. The reception is just in a few hours. I’m about to put my wedding dress on. And I’m being asked what my set list is?! I could barely think straight. I pulled it together as best I could. There was some sort of glitch which I later found out was our DJ. He hadn’t followed up with me. He hadn’t followed up with Joey. I had tried to call him on Thursday. I tried to call him on Saturday. He said he would call back and never did. I was so frustrated. I walked Amanda through what I could remember and then hung up the phone. But my stressors were just beginning.

The Dress
The dress…oh…the dress. What a monster. It was so big. Too big. But there it was, hanging up, waiting for me. I put it on and thought to myself…wow. This is it. This is really happening. My step-mom walked in and I about lost it again. She and my mom had been there when we found the dress. She went to all the fittings. She was there the first time I tried on my dress, not the sample dress. I remember trying that on at Fantastic Finds. I couldn’t breath and started to panic. She kept telling me to calm down. And then the seamstress came into the fitting room. She said to give it a minute and the dress would relax. It did but I couldn’t walk in the thing. The seamstress and I struggled with the hem of the dress. It needed to be shortened but I didn’t want to look like one of those munchkins with the bell dresses. The problem was that when I walked and if I looked down at my feet, the front of the dress would dip down and I would trip forward. I practiced walking over and over. The seamstress said she fixed the issue but we needed to get a hoop to keep the dress off my legs. Christine ordered that, too.

Now, here we were on my wedding day. I put the dress on. It was gorgeous. It fit perfect. I tried to walk in it. Trip. Shit.

I couldn’t walk in it without picking up the front. No worries. I hadn’t put the hoop on, yet and the hoop helped.


The Flowers
Backstory—I screwed this up majorly. I kind of knew what I wanted all of us to carry. I wanted tulips. Everyone told me tulips were out of season by the end of May. I wouldn’t listen. There must be some out there…somewhere. Christine tried. She really did. She bought 100s of bulbs and waited to plant them. But they came up too soon or not at all. I gave up on having tulips as center pieces and agreed to a variety of spring flowers which we purchased 2 days before the wedding at Horrocks. They were beautiful. But what about the flowers the girls were to carry? And me, too?

I waited too long and just wasn’t as involved as I should have been. I felt caught between using the florist Joey’s mom works for or using the florist who has been a client of my mom’s for 100 years. Four months before the wedding, I sent an e-mail to Reta and Christine discussing flowers. Reta told me to set up a meeting with her employer. But I didn’t. I’m kicking myself now…and still but I didn’t do it.

Was it April 1 or May 1 when Joey and I finally rolled into my mom’s client’s flower shop? I can’t remember. I do remember the urgency. I showed the man pictures. We discussed colors and my style. He spit out names of flowers that sounded pretty but didn’t show me any pictures. I told him I wanted tulips. He said he would check on it but probably not. I showed him a picture of the cake and what we wanted as our cake top—just tulips. He said he could order tulips for the topper. Perfect. We discussed the mom’s corsages. He told me that typically mom’s want wrist corsages. I said I would call him back. I really thought we were on the same page. Dang.

I called him back a few days later and said I wanted wrist corsages. He said no luck on the tulips for my bouquets. I wanted roses instead. Why didn’t I look at the contract when he sent it to me? Why????

I was troubled. I wanted pink tulips for my bouquet. I never thought I would care about flowers but there I was…caring away. I sent some pictures of what I wanted to Joey. When he went in to the florist to pay our bill, he gave the pictures to the man we have been working with. Then, Joey insisted on pink tulips for me. Thank you, Lord, for Joey. Here are the pictures Joey showed them:

Fast forward to the wedding. The flowers arrived. I wanted to see them. Devon said we needed to keep them in the water longer but I wanted to see them. And it was time for our pictures to be taken. We went down to the lobby and I have a picture of me and these flowers.

I saw them. I wanted to throw up. I absolutely hated the flowers. They weren’t at all what we had discussed. They didn’t look anything like the pictures I showed the florist. I was so upset but I hid it…momentarily. My bouquet was fine. I really like the pink tulips. But it was on the large side and the flowers were put together in kind of a mess. It was the girl’s bouquets I was completely freaked about. I never, in a million years would have picked these flowers. And there was nothing I could do. And they gave the mom's the pin corsages, not the wrist. We went outside to get pictures taken. I whispered to Krissie “I hate your flowers. That wasn’t what I picked out.” Krissie, God love her, said, “which flowers do you hate? We’ll rip them out and put some of your tulips in there.” Another reason I love Krissie Krenz. Rebecca found out I hated the flowers and told Reta. Reta told me to let it go. It was too late to fix anything. I didn’t even want to look at the flowers. I wanted to focus on my upcoming walk down the aisle. Reta prayed for with me.

The time leading up to the wedding was full of visitors and prayers. Some of my favorite pictures were captured by Yi who shares my need to get memories recorded and preserved. Another reason I love Yi Sun. Devon came in and lined us up. My father took my arm but when I went to walk forward…trip. Oh no. The girls were now out of the room. My dad and I practiced walking but I kept tripping forward. I started to panic. Devon said it was time to go….



Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Busy Weekend

Sometimes I wonder why I'm so exhausted on Mondays.

Friday: RivRunners Carb dinner for 27 people in our almost finished basement. So much fun--seriously. I love the RivRunners. I love my friends. I love watching Jim and Joey wrestle on a the new hardwood flooring. I love drinking wine.

Saturday: Shared Pregnancy Center 5K. Perfect day for a race. We had a great show of runners and all of us did well. I took 2nd in women but no prize this year for me :o( Joey finally broke into the 22 minute category. My time was 26:35, the best time I've had this year.

We went to eat at McDonald's afterward and then Joey and I drove out to L-burg. My family is from L-burg. My grandparents built a golf course out there and part of the course is a nature trail dedicated to my grandfather, Edward Beavers. This trail had not been taken care of in years so my uncle asked the family to come help clean it up. Joey was supposed to have been out of town but thankfully, God knew I needed him there with me. I didn't really let on how emotional it was to be on the golf course, trying to preserve my grandfather's name...but it was. Just having my husband there was a relief.

After the trail and picnic area were cleared, we headed up to my aunt and uncle's house for my cousin's wife's surprise birthday party. Again, glad Joey was there.

Joey and I hung out at home for awhile and then we crashed a wedding reception. It was the sister of my best friend so yeah, we were invited but not until after dinner. We had so much fun but didn't avoid the drama of my ex-boyfriend's wife wanting to get to know me. Oh boy.

Sunday: Church was awesome. I just love it. Then there was RivKids. I love that even when it is challenging. Afterward, Joey dropped me off to spend time with Grandma. Then, we went home but Joey had to leave again to go paint a dentist office (side job). I spent the rest of the evening picking up from Friday night and doing dishes.

Monday: Riverview Staff Meeting/Retreat. Loved it. Got a great opportunity to learn about other ministries and get help with my own. I also loved being local for the day without the 2 hour drive. I got my grocery shopping done and we had a healthy dinner. I ended the night watching Joey and other Riv guys playing softball.

I need a vacation day to just sleep.

Family Olympian


Joey's cousin (and mine by marriage :o) throws javelin tonight at 10:30ish. Her name is Kim Kreiner and she is from Ohio (her dad and Joey's grandma are brother and sister). While it probably won't be televised, we are still happy for her to have made it to the Olympics. Throw far, Kim!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

New Kid On The Block

I've been married for almost 3 months now. Yes, I'm the new kid on the block. It's so weird how God is using me and exposing me to the things of this world, the marriages of this world. God wanted me to know how He felt about divorce when He placed me in the BSF class. He also wanted me to fully understand the love He has for me--no matter what I do. Yesterday, I had conversations with people who are ripping love apart. I'm understanding more and more that love is not a feeling. It is an action. It is committment. Just like the song Joey and I danced to on our wedding day, love is something that we do. I pray for Jesus to be allowed into these failing relationships and marriages. I pray for Joey and I to stay and sprint after Him. Hold on tight.

I heard this song for the first time this morning. I want to share it with so many of my friends...

Love Is Not A Fight
by Warren Barfield

Love is not a place to come and go as we please
It's a house we enter in then commit to never leave
So lock the door behind you
Throw away the key
Work it out together
Let it bring us to our knees

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
If we try to leave; May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight but its something worth fighting for

Some love is a word that they can fall into.
But when they're falling out keeping that word is hard to do

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
If we try to leave; May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight but its something worth fighting for

Love will come to save us If we'll only call
He will ask nothing from us but demand we give our all

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
If we try to leave; May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight but its something worth fighting for