Right place, Right time

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. (Ecc. 3:11)

God's timing is perfect. This is difficult for me to fathom, and even harder to remember during times of turmoil. But I know in my stubborn heart that it is true.

I know that I was leaving the YMCA at the perfect moment several years ago. I left just as the station 20 crew was finishing up their own workout, and I just happened to meet the man who I would later marry.

I am CERTAIN that I was supposed to be in Saranac, NY at the age of 15, listening to a speaker at Young Life Camp. I was supposed to sit on a rock in the rain and accept that Jesus took my place on the cross. God had let me wander for 15 years, and introduced me to salvation on that particular summer evening.
 
I heard God say to me, "You are supposed to be a mother" a couple of years ago. It was during the summer, and a few months later, Chris told me that we should try to have a baby. (Hallelujah, Jesus! A few months to this impatient girl is a long time!) The Lord's timing was, once again, right on track.

I know that my brother was steered through the doors at a Mt Pleasant church this evening, only to discover that the man preaching is someone that I knew from my college days. God's family is so big, and yet so closely-knit. Dave called me and was thrilled about the worship that he had experienced.

I know that the days my father-in-law spent in the hospital were in accordance with God's perfect timing. As difficult as it was, it allowed for me to grow closer to his wife (my mom-in-law) during our time at the hospital. It allowed me to see how deeply rooted her faith is, and how similar we are. (Again...hallelujah, Jesus! Hope I can grow to be more like her.)

I know that I am supposed to be sitting on my couch right now, in jammies at 9:00 pm on New Year's Eve. My husband is reading in the bed. We are old, and I LOVE our life together. A few years back, I would have probably cried if you'd have told me I would be sitting here on my couch, ready for bed, no friends, no party.Today, I am thanking my lucky stars that I have a house and a husband. God let me have my crazy days; He knows that I am right where I need to be now.

I know that my husband was used by God yesterday while he was at work. Some of our dear, sweet friends were in an automobile accident in Charlotte. It was not Chris' area and he would not normally have responded. However, the appropriate station was busy on another call so station 20 responded. As he pulled up to the scene, he recognized the family's van. He saw their fear-stricken faces and went into work-mode. He was able to comfort them the best he knew how; he stayed calm and reminded them that they were okay and that they were protected. Indeed they were....no major physical injuries, just emotional trauma.

Does God manipulate our lives according to His timing and what He wants? Absolutely, and I am thankful that He does so.

Counting Down...

I cannot believe that another year has gone by. Isn't it strange to think 'we live in the year 2012?' I thought by this point we would be driving tiny spaceships instead of cars (love the Jetsons! They live in my dreamworld). I am thankful for so many things, and there are several things that I want to strive toward in 2012...

I am so thankful for my family. I hate when they leave to go back home; the time is so precious when they are here. My brother, Dave, amazes me. He spent so much time with us and has told me a few times that he wants to be involved in T's upbringing. This makes my heart melt. For Christmas, Uncle Dave bought Trafton a Thomas the Tank Engine tunnel to climb through. It even had a ball pit attached. When he left today, he took the sheets and towels he had used and loaded them into a laundry basket for me. This may not sound like a big deal to some, but this means the world to me.

Don't even get me started on my parents....they are ridiculously awesome. I am thankful for their generosity and the time that they give us. Chris and I have said many times that we hope we can be HALF the parents they are to us.

I am thankful for a steadfast, faithful husband. Oh, and he's pretty patient too :)

I am thankful for a healthy child whose big personality is starting to emerge from his little body. I am thankful for his smiles and that he has started to give hugs and kisses. Not sure there is anything better.

I am thankful that Chris and I both believe in the same God and that we love Jesus and what he did for us. As I type, I am watching 'True Life' about couples whose members each believe something different spiritually. (Y'all know I watch some goofy tv sometimes....guilty pleasure.) I can't even imagine spending my life with someone who did not share my faith. Yikes. Thankful for salvation and happy to be His sheep.

I am thankful for my job and the tiny lives that I get to impact- in a positive way, hopefully! I am thankful for their creativity and their energy (wish it would rub off on me sometimes), and I am so thankful that they hold my hand and give me hugs. I am also grateful for their parents- I have made some new friends in parents this year. What a blessing!

What are my goals for this upcoming year? I have a few...

I want to lose some weight (or gain some weight, depending on what God's plan may be for our family! Ha!).

I want to join a church! Chris and I have been searching and we are past ready. Part of what's holding us back are excuses. I pray that God will shove these excuses out of the way and plant us somewhere.

I would like to learn more about the Old Testament. My husband gave me The Message for Christmas. Man, it's like reading a book. For those of you who haven't cracked it, it's a "reading bible", according to the intro. And that it is....I am loving it.

I want to love other people. I know this sounds immensely corny, but I mean it. And I don't mean by sending a card every now and then, or doing some community service here and there. Those things are GREAT, but I feel like God is pushing me and calling me deeper. Hard to explain, but I am ready to use my heart, my home, and my resources in ways that will impact others and help them see God's love. I want to stop worrying. I don't want "what if..." to hold me back.

I want to forgive and move on. I tend to dwell on negative experiences and hold on to things. I want to let them go. I want to forgive and try to forget, while also being mindful of who I trust and share with.

I pray that I can worship through EVERYTHING I do.....this is probably the hardest, but I want to challenge myself. I want to glorify Him through work, play, waking, reading, talking, breathing. Hey, they're goals right? I'll keep tryin'.

What are you thankful for in 2011? What are your goals for 2012?

Prince of Peace

I awoke this morning to a frightening headline: North Korea's communist leader, Kim Jong Il, had died. The media is already speculating about impending nuclear conflict; North Korea is said to have fired a test missile.

Next, the reporter informs viewers that violence erupted in Cairo, Egypt over military rule. A video is shown of a woman, partially clothed, being kicked in the chest by a soldier.

Finally, a man in New York City is taken to jail because he burned a 73 year old grandmother in an elevator. He explained that she owed him 2,000 dollars for work that he had completed in her apartment building. Naturally- burning her to death is the answer, right?!

I don't mean to sound apocalyptic, but when I see stories like this, I am ready to see Jesus again. In church yesterday, the worship leader referred to Isaiah 9:6 when he described Jesus...

For to us a child is born,
   to us a son is given,
   and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
   Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
   Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

As a believer, I never understood why Christmas was celebrated more than Easter. After all, Easter was a day of "victory" for Christians. A few years ago, I realized why the Christmas season is so significant: December 25th is the day on which the God of the UNIVERSE made the epic decision to offer his son to us. That is, He made the choice to place this tiny, fragile baby in a manger. He made the decision to reach out to us- the selfish, violent, sinful human race- and give us this Savior.

'Prince of Peace' remained in my head throughout Sunday evening and this morning. As I watched the awful things unfold internationally this morning, I was struck by the irony. Our world is anything but peaceful. I couldn't help but think: What does God think as He looks down at us?

Is He disappointed? Probably, since He longs for each of us to love our neighbor as we love ourself. Yeah, we pretty much suck at that.
Is He angry? Most likely, as He witnesses brutal violence and selfish leadership.
Is He sad? Of course. His children are all hurting one another- emotionally and physically. Imagine all of your loved ones bickering constantly right in front of you or worse- attacking one another. I would probably see the future as bleak and hopeless.

Does He still love us and offer us redemption? Yes, amazingly. He has given us a COUNSELOR and a FATHER. He has given us solace. As we navigate through one scary and depressing world, we can hold on to the Prince of Peace.

Watch it, Buster

My grandmother, Mema, would have been 90 on Saturday. She looks sophistocated and refined in the above picture, but looks can be deceiving. Don't get me wrong: Helen Lee WAS a sophistocated lady, a social butterfly who could turn on the charm. But she could get down and dirty with the best of 'em too, and she wouldn't hesitate to tell you what she really thought. I remember so many things about her...

Everytime we went to Clemson, she would take us to Garrett's, the local department store. This was like Christmas to a little girl. We would spend what seemed like forever looking around the store; she could outlast all of us. Girlfriend knew how to shop. I think this sticks out in my mind for two reasons: she was full of energy AND generosity. She never hesitated to treat us to this routine shopping trip. She entered that store with a mission: to spoil her grandkids.

I also have memories of Mema in her kitchen. Fried chicken was her specialty, especially on Clemson's game days. After she passed away, I don't think we ever made it again. Which is how it should be- no one could make it like she could. And you didn't dare enter the kitchen when she and Tiger Paw were hard at work. She would quickly tell you to beat it. She liked her space and she enjoyed being in charge. Can't blame her. If you got in her way or you crossed her, you could hear her scruffy voice calling out, "Watch it, Buster!".

Mema used to sing "Lu Lu" to us when we were small. I have since taught my husband the song and I'm in the process of teaching Trafton. If you want your ears to bleed, ask me to sing it for you :) It's basically about a chicken-legged little girl named Lulu who goes upstairs to bathe. She ends up going down the drain with the water. Hmm. Sort of depressing- but the song and its sound effects were so fun. Once again, Mema's energy would come out when singing. She wouldn't hesitate to put her whole body into a song and belt it out.

 If there was any individual that she was in charge of, it was Tiger Paw. My grandpa may be stubborn, but he didn't stand a chance against his wife. Even after she was diagnosed with Alzeimer's, she remained feisty. I can't remember exactly, but I know it was probably 11 or 12 years until her passing; she hung on. She had memories to make and people to boss around. One of my favorite memories was a few years before she died. We were spending several days at their beach condo. I drove from college and arrived first; I was greeted by my grandparents. At this point in her life, Mema was no longer walking. She would occasionally belt out a show tune (old habits die hard!) but she was mainly quiet. My grandpa, on the other hand, enjoyed telling us how he felt about certain issues. Politics and history were two of his favorites. He would talk and talk; he didn't care if you responded or not. He informed me, after I arrived at the beach and unpacked, that he wanted to talk to me and my grandmother about the Declaration of Indpendence. Oh boy. Just what I wanted to do on vacation. After a 30 minute dissertation, Tiger Paw finally told us, "Alright, I'll get off my soapbox. I'll shut up now." My silent grandmother looked and at him and gruffly uttered, "YA PROMISE?!"

What a sense of humor! What a beautiful, adventurous, headstrong lady. What a lovely soul. I miss her so and I am thankful for the memories.

All I Want for Christmas is...

Red chapstick!
Red chapstick!
Red chapstick!

We had a few minutes before recess today, so I decided to play a memory game with my critters. I also love to ask them open-ended, random questions...you never know what kind of response you'll get. So today, we sat around the perimeter of the carpet. We each had to tell one thing that we would like for Santa to bring us this year. But before we could say our own wish, we had to repeat the things that everyone in front of us had requested.

I started and told the kids that I'd like a new book. (Okay, so I might put a few other things on my list to Santa. But I can't miss an opportunity to convince them that reading is awesome.) The next little girl said "Mrs. Cranford wants a new book. I want a phone." Um, you're five. But okay- we'll roll with this. The next student reports that I would like a book, the chatty friend sitting next to me would like a phone, and that she would like a little dog. (I wish for little dogs too. How come my husband won't listen?)

We have 17 kids, and each wish seemed to grow longer and longer. A couple of boys rambled off about 15 words. I happened to catch "lego guys" in their slew of an explanation. These kids had specific requests....rock n' roll Mickey, an exploder (I have no clue), and new WII games. As the game progressed, I kept thinking 'surely they won't be able to repeat everything'.

Once again, my sweet boys and girls surprised me. They repeated everything as the game continued; no one missed a thing. Finally, one of my girls was on. She repeated the entire list and then declares, without hesitation, that she would like "RED CHAPSTICK". I had to keep myself from laughing. Just to give you some background, chapstick is the new fad in our classroom. Several of my girls bring a tube in their bookbag or their pocket. During quick transitions, or before we leave the room, my cubby area looks like a row of mirrors in the high school bathroom. Girls are lined up and comparing their different lip balms. And, it just so happens that Mrs. Cranford keeps a tube of red chapstick in her desk drawer too. (Yes, I joined the party at the cubbies one day to compare.)

This little girl realizes, perhaps subconsciously, that she is blessed beyond belief. She has an amazing family who surrounds her with love, a home to live in, and good friends. She doesn't feel the need to ask for frivolous things. Now, she might change her mind when she sees the season's latest barbie or American girl doll. But for now, she'll settle for red chapstick. Yes siree- pack that up in your sack, Santa.

Labels

This morning, I followed Super Mom to work. That's right- in her Chevy truck, big ol' monster wheels, complete with a pink butterfly on the rear window. Her license plate said "SuprMom" and I had to laugh. I immediately pictured a mother of six or seven kids, in her curlers and sweats, herding her clan into the truck to get to school. It got me thinking about the bumper sticks and things that we use to adorn our car, the things that "define" us to the rest of the unknowing world. I've never been eager to purchase a personalized license plate, mainly because I'm too cheap. But it's also similar to a tattoo: not sure what I would get and what I would be content with for several years (or forever, in the case of a tattoo). And bumper stickers? They make me laugh. Alot.

"Keep honking, I'm reloading" (Why does this remind me of my husband?!)
"Real men love Jesus." (This one also reminds me of him. Don't judge- he is well rounded.)
"Sh*t happens" (Amen.)

Driving down the interstate in my car, I don't know the people driving next to me. The way I drive and my actions/gestures speak for me. Scary, right?! I don't always exude God's love when I'm driving. In fact, it's rare that I make it somewhere without getting frustrated by something on the road. What if you asked other people- friends, family, strangers- to label you with a sticker or sign that describes you? What do you think they'd come up with if you asked for any description- the good, the bad, the ugly?

Hmm. I'm just guessing, but I think I would see...
- Anxious
- Gift Giver
- Affirmed by words
- Moody (no comments are necessary)
- Determined
- Anal...at least about some things
- Hippie Tree-Hugger (This is my favorite. My husband calls me 'Mother Earth' all the time. And proud of it, thank you very much.)

What if my God, my Father could stick a label on me, where everyone could see? Would He choose to brand me with a not-so-positive description, or would He use kinder words? Lucky for me, He sees past the ugly. Here are just a few that I think He would use for ALL of His children:

- My child
- Worthy of sacrifice (and a MAJOR one at that)
- Apple of my eye
- Forgiven
- Alive because of my grace and mercy
- MY BELOVED.

Give Me Your Eyes

I made one of my little ones cry today. While I talked to her, she teared up and cried out, "I want my mommy." Wow- did I feel like poop. And where did she go after I spoke with her about what she'd done? Straight to my assistant/friend Debbie, to get a hug. Ouch. Am I that mean?? Granted, this little girl did not listen and did not follow directions. She sat and did nothing for about 10 minutes while the other children worked away. This is why she and I had to have a chat in the hallway. Was it warranted? Absolutely. Could I have been a bit softer with her? Ummm, yes.

What if God fussed at us every time we did not listen to him or do what we were supposed to do? Phew, my ears would be worn out. I would be crying for my mommy constantly. Fortunately, He doesn't fuss at us or take away play time. He gently steers us in a different direction and smiles as we learn a lesson.

The best part of my day: when the same little girl hugged me at the end of the day and told me that she loved me. Ah-Maz-Ing. I certainly didn't feel like I deserved these special words, but she had already moved on from our earlier confrontation. Why can't we, as adults, forgive and forget?? Why do we have the hardest time letting things go and loving the person despite past conflict? We smile and pretend to move on, but inside we think ugly thoughts or refuse to wipe the slate clean.

There's a Brandon Heath song that I think of alot...

Give me your eyes for just one second, Give me your eyes so I can see
All of the things that I've been missing,
Give me your love for humanity.

If only I could look through God's eyes or show the same kind of love that He does. When we hold on to the past and refuse to forgive, beautiful things pass us by.

The holidays are here!

Family, friends, food, frustrations. The holidays are a time of celebration and being BUSY. It's nice to just be, to sit and count your blessings. To reflect on family traditions. Here are some of ours:

- Driving to see family. Each year, I think "ugh, next year I am NOT driving". But 364 days later, the car is packed, I am frazzled, and we are on the road.

- Eating. And eating. And eating. Annnnnd EATING. Enjoying every tasty bite and feeling somewhat guilty after grazing all day. Our family tradition seems to be eat "one" big Thanksgiving meal, then pick at the leftovers for the next several days.

- Counting down the days until the big game (i.e. Carolina versus Clemson, for all you non-Southerners). Every year, I tell myself that I am not going to stress over the game and I'll be happy with whoever wins. And every year, I realize how ridiculous this is. I am a Gamecock- born and raised in Columbia and having gone to USC. I try to keep myself busy and distracted every year during the game (note the time I am typing this...) but I find myself- stomach clenched, yelling at the television- once again.

- Laughing with my brother, Dave. NO ONE on Earth makes me laugh harder than him; If I could shrink him and carry him around in my purse wherever I go, I would do it, just so I could smile each day. Alot of his humor involves our past together: places we've been, "accidents" we've had (see below), or movies that bring back memories. Last night, we discovered Pee Wee's Big Adventure on tv. Much to my husband's disappointment, we decided to watch it. He was so annoyed as the movie progressed; Dave and I were so entertained. We recited almost all the lines together, as Chris kept himself busy and prayed for the remote :)

- The holidays also remind me of certain memories, like the time that we set the trash can on fire on Christmas morning. Yes, you read that right. Dave and I were playing outside with a neighborhood friend and we decided that it would be fun to light a firecracker and throw it into the big green, PLASTIC trash can outside my parents' home. Well, you can guess what happened. Suddenly, big orange flames were pouring out of the can. Our neighborhood buddy ran home and Dave sent me inside to get Bubba- our youngest uncle who would probably have concocted this ingenius plan had he not been stuck at the "grown up table" eating. Bubba slyly escaped the dining room and came to the rescue....with a garden hose and a cooler. As he instructed us to fill the cooler with water, he stood with his hand on the garbage can top and tried to contain the fire. I'll never forget looking up and seeing a woman jogging by. Bubba wished her a Merry Christmas and waved as flames and smoke poured out of the trash. Ahhh, memories.

- One holiday tradition that I do not enjoy: leaving my parents. I love to come home, see our doggies, and get settled once again. But leaving my mom and my daddy? It is like torture. They walk us out to the car, help us load up, and wave goodbye. My heart actually hurts as we drive away. (This is actually an improvement. I used to cry every time we'd drive away. Now, I can USUALLY hold back the tears.) This Thanksgiving, I am beyond thankful for them. They play so many roles: Mentor, Counselor, Friend. They are the best parents and even more amazing as Grands. I pray that Chris and I show Trafton just a fraction of the wisdom and patience that they have shown me as parents.

Walk On

Well, my son has a girlfriend. And she's an older woman.

Today when I picked Trafton up from his sitter's, she told me that she had something to tell me. Uh oh. Not something a mommy wants to hear- especially about their feisty-usually sweet-but sometimes stubbon son. She continued: "He broke my heart today." Grrrrrreat. Already breaking hearts.

But then I learned what she really meant: Apparently, she was holding another little one and T. was across the room. Now I have to preface this by saying that my sweet boy has only taken 5 or so steps at once. He found his motivation to really move today. When he looked up from his snack, he saw Miss Angela holding another little boy. And that would just not do.

He immediately left his "Puffs" (which is a miracle in itself...my boy does not pass up snacks) and WALKED ACROSS THE ROOM to her. He tried to climb in her lap and take the place of the other little baby. Ha! Jealous much?! Relieved that my son hadn't really done something horrible and thrilled that my son had taken so many steps at once, I suddenly realized that he really loved this woman. And that is okay with me. Actually, it's more than okay.

He loves Miss Angela so much that he was willing to leave a snack and WALK to her. In his mind, Miss Angela is his friend, his love, his protector. He's not ready to share her, and I don't blame him. You know that good old 1 Corinthians definition of love? "Love is patient, Love is kind..." This is the type of love that she shows others.

Almost every day that I pick him up, I arrive at her home to find not only Angela, but also her two sweet daughters....all focused on my little boy. 3 sweet souls all loving on him- he can't get enough. And I can't get enough- this family is amazing! As a new mom, I was nervous about leaving him in the hands of someone that I barely knew. Little did I know, God had orchestrated and arranged everything. He knew that this family would touch ours; He knew that they would offer Trafton's parents an amazing and inexplicable comfort. We have not known this family long, but I feel a closeness with this woman. When I leave him in her arms, I know that my son will be loved. And obviously- he knows he is loved as well.

When I left her home today, I realized that her affection for him MOTIVATED him to move. Not only that, but my son trusts this woman. He knows that she will be there when he crosses the room and falls into her. What motivates us, as adults, to move? Hopefully, the Father's love for us. He motivates me to walk toward him and depend on Him when I feel uneasy and nervous. He motivates me to take risks and do things that I cannot do alone. He will be there when I come and fall into Him.

Do Not Be Afraid

I have always been a pleaser. The level of people-pleasing has fluctuated over the years, but I always seem to want to make others happy. Even if it means I have to change my mind or worse, change myelf, to do so.

Fortunately, He issues us a challenge in the book of Deuteronomy:
Do not be afraid of any man, for judgement belongs to God. (1:17)

God obviously thinks that each of us are pretty special...why else would he have sent Jesus to take our place on the cross? Why would he continue to let the Holy Spirit come into the lives of perpetual sinners? He loves us dearly and considers us his children. Pretty lucky for us, huh?

So, if the creator of the universe thinks I am worthy of His love, why can't I believe in myself and trust myself sometimes??

First reason: I am a woman. I think that most of us, as females, thrive on friendship and approval of our "sisters". Heck, it's not just my sisters and friends who I seek approval from. It's neighbors, coworkers, bosses, classroom parents, people I have just met. I think my husband also likes for folks to enjoy his company, but when you really get down to the nitty gritty? He will take care of our family and does not really care what others think. (Which I love about him, by the way.)

Second reason that I seek the approval of others so often: I hate to see people hurt. Especially when it's a result of something I have done or said. I might complain to Chris about someone, but the minute I hurt their feelings or do something that displeases them, I doubt myself and my own judgement. When I begin to compromise myself and my beliefs to please someone else? That's something that God does not approve of. That is something that my weak, human heart causes.

Ironically, as I'm typing this, I am watching/listening to The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. (I know, I know....don't judge.) One of the characters is going through crazy sad stuff in her personal life, and another character on the show is gossiping about her and talking smack around town. The first character just cried to the other one and explained: "I have bent over backwards to try to be your friend." What does God tell us to do when we're not friends with someone? Or when we realize we would have to change ourselves to please others? It is clear:

DO NOT BE AFRAID OF ANY MAN, FOR JUDGEMENT BELONGS TO GOD.

Who should I be trying to please? Him, and Him alone.

"Thankful for my fishies"

I wasn't planning on writing tonight. Don't want to wear out my welcome in the blogging world too quickly. BUT, I was so proud of my sweet kindergarten students today and I wanted to share.

Next week, we will have a classroom "Family Feast" with students and their parents. In the past, I suppose I've had a slight case of parent-phobia. Some made me nervous and some frustrated me. This year, however, I am truly excited about spending this meal with my kids and their parents. Funny how the Lord changes your heart and your perspective after you have a child of your own :)

Anyway, as a special pre-meal presentation, my students will present a turkey that they have made. On each feather, they wrote something that they are thankful for. We encouraged them to think hard about the things or the people that they would not want to live without. I thought for sure one of them would write 'my playstation' or 'my trampoline'. Well, they showed me.

 Almost every child said something about mom, dad, or 'my family'. Some were thankful for their teachers (I did NOT even tear up, thank you very much!) or for their bed (Amen!).

I got to my sweet Bradyn and asked him what he was thankful for. Number One? GOD. (Smart boy.) Number Two? That God makes us alive. (Seriously??) Number Three? My mom. Number Four? My dad.

Alani, another friend at his table, shared with me next. Number One? MY FISHIES. I had to keep a straight face and nod, but inside I was cracking up. For the remaining items, she told me things like her family and her teachers. But I just couldn't get past "I am thankful for my fishies". At first, I found it hilarious. Then I started thinking....maybe these kids are on to something...

To be thankful for such a tiny creature and to mention it as your number one? So kind and thoughtful. Maybe more of us should think about the tiny fishies in our lives. Obviously, I don't mean literal fish. I'm thinking more along the lines of every little thing that God gives us: food to eat, water when we are thirsty, a clean potty to use, warm socks on our feet. These things are little to us, but would be huge to the less fortunate.

He lets us wake up each morning and breathe. He knows where we have been and where we are going. He is a constant, there when I need Him. For THAT, I am thankful.

Did you hear???

One of my dear friends just officially announced that she is pregnant. She is nearly 12 weeks, and I think it has been harder for ME to hold in this wonderful secret than it has been for her! I learned that she is expecting a while ago, and tears came to my eyes. What a gift! God chooses to give you this human, this LIVING, BREATHING, PRECIOUS gift. He chooses you to grow it, feed it, and introduce it to the world. He chooses you to teach it, love it unconditionally (which is not always easy). He chooses you to share your faith with this child; to tell your precious child about the ONE being that truly accepts us for who we are. He chooses you, despite all your flaws and all of your past. Motherhood is an honor and the biggest blessing I have ever experienced.

 Some days, I feel accomplished. I can get up early and exercise; I can clean our home and put dinner in the crock pot. I can spend all of my "free time" with my son. I feel as if I am teaching him and truly raising him. Other days, I am a failure. I can't seem to accomplish anything I have planned. I don't get home early enough and I only have a fraction of time with my child. I don't work out. I am fat. I am disorganized. I am nasty to others. But then my God makes me pause. He stills me and He quiets me; He reminds me that life is all about seasons and struggles. We grow and glorify Him through our struggles. If I feel like a failure one day, I wake up the following morning and He has redeemed me. What a glorious blessing.

I look at my son and I am awestruck that God has let me become a mother.Don't get me wrong: I adore my husband and being his wife. But being a mommy? A totally different, jaw-dropping experience thus far.  And it will only get better with each passing day.

Micah 6:8

I have been searching forever. I have tried food, clothes, friendships, relationships, busyness, fitness...you name it. ANYTHING and everything to find my worth. To find my 'calling' and meaning in life.  I finally realized two years ago that God may not give us that "aha!" moment when we realize what we are supposed to be when we grow up. As cliche as it may sound, He gently guides us and grows us until we realize that we are His alone and that we are to simply ACT JUSTLY, LOVE MERCY, and WALK HUMBLY with Him. (Micah 6:8)

I read this verse and suddenly realized that I don't have to be perfect at anything, or be incredibly talented in any certain area. Instead, He has simply asked that I love Him, accept and celebrate Jesus and what He did for us, and love other people (no matter how frustrating, mean, or annoying they may be sometimes). This is my calling, or my purpose.

The simplicity AND the complexity of this challenge struck me: I am called to love others. Easy right? Wait....I am called to REALLY love others. Yikes. That means forgiving when I've been wronged. It means smiling at people that I don't care for. It means acknowledging my wrongdoing in certain situations, instead of blaming others. It means putting others above myself. I am called to celebrate other people's victories and success stories, instead of bragging about my own. He asks me to give to those in need, give of my heart and my time. He wants me to look past outward appearances. He wants me to share the gospel truth with everyone I come into contact with, by acting, loving, and walking humbly.

Phew. I have a long way to go.