Unwanted Blessings

For years I have wished we were able to hire someone to come clean my house and do my laundry. I have looked at the finances, tried to figure out what we could cut out to be able to swing this. Needless to say, it’s not an option for us unless I tell my girls and hubby they have to give up food for a couple of days—not sure that will go over well.

My house will never be the cleanest on the block—it also won’t be gross, but chances are, if you drop by unexpectedly, you’ll find lots of clutter everywhere you look. I’ve tried to instill it in my girls to pick up their stuff. And that if they choose to use the living room as their dressing room, they need to take their socks and shorts--and whatever other clothing they think looks nice laying on the floor or ottoman-- back to their dirty clothes hamper (do you sense any frustration with this last one?). And as much as I know it would be easier to load the dishwasher after dinner, I still let the dishes sit overnight because I'm too lazy to clean them.

Honestly, we’re messy. I do good to clean the toilets every couple of weeks—let alone scrub the shower scum. Cleaning doesn’t make me feel better. I’ll tell you a secret—as long as I don’t trip on it or smell it, I’m comfortable in an unkempt house. You can imagine how well that goes over with Brian.

As if that’s not enough to make you wonder if you really want to claim to know me, I’m gonna show my shallow side here--I’ve even prayed for God to provide a way for us to pay for someone to clean (some people pray for food for hungry kids in Africa, or shoes for people in India or salvation for those who don’t know Him—Me? A maid).

And I thought His answer was, “No.” Until this week.

Two-three days a week, my mother-in-law picks up my girls from school and stays with them until Brian or I get home from work. And while they are doing homework, she loads my dishwasher, empties my overflowing bathroom trashcans, pulls weeds in the front yard, and scrubs my shower scum. And, when our washing machine worked, she always did a couple loads of laundry (now she just takes a few things home with her every time).

Since your view of me is already pretty low, let me just go ahead and confess something else. Until recently, her doing all that really frustrated me. I felt like it was a reflection on what a bad wife and mom I was (because we all know that we should be able to bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and clean up the mess afterward). My insecurity kept me from seeing the answered prayer and huge blessing God had given me. Instead, I chose to resent her willingness to do these things.

I wonder how many other things I do that with? How many times do I pray for things and think God chose not to give them to me, when the truth is, He gave them to me—just not in the way I expected or even wanted? How many times does He give me blessings that I don’t think I want? How many times do I complain about something that I am not seeing as a blessing?

Some good stuff for me to ponder on this weekend…

Blurry Pictures

If you’ve read any of my posts that have pictures in them, you have probably realized that I cannot take a picture without it being blurry. I have blamed it on my lack of talent, the camera I have, my inability to hold the camera still, the lighting and many other things. The fact of the matter is, I suck at taking pictures and it makes me incredibly sad.

I swore before I had children that I would document every stage in their life. And I tried with Hope. I have lots of studio pictures of her…before Caroline was born. Once I had my 2nd child, we were doing good to get holidays captured. The last studio pic I have of them was at Easter when Hope was 4 and Caroline was 2 years old. Caroline was sticking her tongue out (for which I caught a lot of flack, but looking at it now, makes me remember why I chose to buy that particular pic and send it to all of our family and friends—it’s priceless).

Anyway, reality quickly set in and I realized a) I couldn’t afford to keep doing studio pics and b) I’m not nearly as good a photographer as I always thought I would be. Then, when I was doing a good job of capturing the “in the moment” shots with my iPhone, I dropped it in the water and the camera no longer worked (and I’m too cheap to replace it until it completely dies—which it has a couple of times, but it keeps coming back).

So I sit here and kick myself. And worry that my girls will grow up resenting the fact that I seldom documented their life and when I did, it was so sporadic that it didn’t make much difference. And I have no picture of them in the same spot every year on their birthday. Or have any beautiful oil canvases of them. And have no yearly Christmas photo of our family that we send out to all our friends.

But the truth of the matter is, I don’t take good photos and don’t have the time or patience or equipment to learn, so my girls are gonna have boxes/cds full of blurry pictures to show their kids.

What did you think you would do really well as a parent that you have found you stink at? Do you worry it will scar your children?

My Finish Line

Earlier this year, our staff read a book by Bill Hybels called "Axiom." Such a great book and an easy read. It's a bunch of short chapters on things he has learned from doing ministry at Willow Creek Community Church.

One of the chapters talked about having a finish line--that thing that you do to mark the end of a week, or season. As a staff, we talked a little about this. For some it was a margarita, for others, a good work-out. I was stumped for a long time. The nature of my job means that I usually work a little on both of my days off. Even though Thursday is technically my last day of the week, I don't leave the office feeling "finished."

So I finally gave up on figuring out a good finish line. Until I looked at my situation a bit differently. Even though Sunday is the first day of the week, it's the day I work toward all week. It's the culmination of all that I have done the previous week—it’s like Game Day for a football player.

And when it's over, and I leave the church and head to my house, I crash. I typically take an hour long nap (sometimes longer) and spend some time by myself in my room. When I wake up, I am ready to re-engage with my family. We have some fun, family traditions that we do and after the girls and Brian go to bed, I watch some trash TV. Definitely not a spiritual ending to the day, but somehow, it puts me in the mindset to want to get up in the morning and start all over again.

TV and books do the same thing for me. I’ve always been a reader, but I have really learned in the last year the art of balance between reading the books that develop me and the books that make me laugh and get out of my seriousness. Both bring me life.

And that’s ironic to me. The fact that I can grow as a leader by reading a book on “Visioneering” and by reading some other “fluff” that I’m a little embarrassed to post here. One leads me to think about what God is up to, and the other allows me to clear my mind so that I can be ready to listen and have the ability to apply what God is teaching/showing me.

So, I’m off to do a little “mind-clearing” now with some TV. God did invent the DVR, didn’t He?

Do you have a “finish line?” Do you have any weird things you do to unwind/be open to hearing from God?

Sleeping Naked

One of my children has decided recently that she wants to sleep naked. Naked at our house, is defined as only wearing your underwear. I won’t call her out and name names, but I didn’t just write a blog post about her before this one.

I haven’t quite figured out what to do, so I’ve just ignored it. That’s great parenting there, folks! Seriously, it’s not harming anyone, but it’s just kinda weird to me. She used to go to bed in jammies and by the time I went in to check on her before I went to sleep, she had shed them and was laying there snuggled up under her covers.

She’s not hot—her room is the smallest in the house and between the air conditioner and her ceiling fan, it’s usually the coolest. And she’s not a hot-blooded child, unlike her sister.

But it bugs me. I know, I know—I really need to get a life if I’m staying up worrying about what my daughter wears to bed. There are so many real things I could worry about, but instead, this plagues me constantly.

Sometimes parenting isn’t hard, it’s just weird. What kinds of weird things do your kids do that bug you?

Useless Keys

I've been parking my car in front of my house. As much as I love the driveway, it's a pain to have to switch places with Brian and neither of us like to park on the side of the driveway (me because it always gets muddy over there and I'm scared I'll hit the neighbor's fence--I am SUCH a horrible parker, and Brian because our driveway is starting to crack and he doesn’t want to park half on/half-off). Brian always has tools to load and unload so it just makes more sense for me to be the one to park out front.

Anyway, parking out front means I have to use my house key to get into the house instead of my handy-dandy garage door opener (which I love and miss using). Doesn’t sound like a big deal except that I have 2 identical keys on my key ring. Originally, the house key had an “H” written on it in black sharpie, but most of it has faded except for a tiny corner.

You’d think I would do something about those identical keys so I wouldn’t have to fumble every time I come home, but I haven’t. In fact, as I started looking at my key ring this morning, I realized that I only use 3 keys on there—my car key, my house key and my mail key. In fact, I’m not sure what any of the other keys go to—including the one that’s identical to my house key.

But I’m scared to throw any of them away. What if I all-of-a-sudden need them? You can’t get on the show “Hoarders” by keeping extra keys, can you?

Not to over-spiritualize a key ring, but the irony of it hit me this morning and I realized I carry around a lot of “useless” things. The comment someone made about my ears sticking out in elementary school still makes me not ever want to wear my hair up or in a hat. The fear that I’m dull, and that nobody will want to be my friend when they realize I’m not witty, hangs with me constantly. And the thought that I’m a bad mom and wife and employee because of a standard I think I need to meet goes with me everywhere—just like those useless keys.

The keys aren’t heavy and most of the time I don’t even notice them. Until I’m in a hurry to get in my house and go to the bathroom—that’s when the inconvenience of sorting through them all reminds me they are there and that I should do something about them.

But I haven’t yet.

Do you have any old keys hanging around? What are you afraid to get rid of, but know you should?

Some Leaders are Just Born

I wish I could say I was the kind of mom who just oozes love for my kids in everything I do, but I’m kinda mean to them. I get frustrated way too easily. I hate homework almost as much as them (although I do understand the need for it). My temper gets the best of me and I'm seldom as patient as I would like to be.

But there are times, when I am aware of how blessed I am and I take time to appreciate the character in my kiddos. I’ve felt that a lot lately with Hope. Believe me, it has not been an easy month with her (I won’t embarrass her here by telling some of the stories on her), but even in the middle of the chaos, I have become even more aware of what an incredible leader she has the potential to be.

She was born a leader. She learned to talk and walk way too early. She is too smart for her own good most days. And to top it off, she’s really funny. She has no problem making friends. In the past week, she was elected to Student Council by her class and Nat’l Elementary Honor Society by her teachers. She also plays soccer, has joined choir at school and is now on the praise team at church (where she was shaking her hips on stage this past Sunday). Not to mention the 80s party she was invited to last weekend.


All these things are great. But they are also scary. Because of the influence she has over people, we spend a lot of time talking about how we lead. And the fact that she is not only responsible for herself, but for others who follow her. And she doesn’t truly grasp the weight of that yet.

It scares me. I feel a lack of control that makes me want to grab her and make her do exactly what I say when I say it. You can imagine how well that would go over. There’s a part of me that knows she is going to have to learn the hard way—from her own mistakes. And I sooo want to protect her from that, but I can’t. And who’s to say that my choices would be any better than hers?

My job requires me to lead people. And I do it gladly—even though it scares me sometimes. But the stakes seem higher when it comes to Hope. Leading your own kids is even scarier. There’s a verse in 2 Chronicles that I love (I may have even blogged about it). It was when God made Solomon king and He told Solomon He would grant him anything he asked. Here’s what Solomon said:

“Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours?” 2 Chronicles 1:10

I’ve prayed that for the past few years for my small group leaders, but I’ve recently started praying it for my girls, too. Leading a leader is hard, especially when it’s as cute as this:

Shower Gel Bubble Baths

Last night I decided to take a bath. As I went looking for some good-smelling bubble bath (or bath foam, as it’s now called with some brands), the only thing I could come up with was Caroline’s Tinkerbell bubble bath—which was extremely sweet smelling and made my headache even worse when I opened the top to smell it.

As I pondered what to do—was it really worth it to take a bath in JUST water?—I started feeling sad. I can’t remember the last time I took a bath. Before you start to gag, I take a shower pretty much every morning (jammie days excluded), but that’s to get clean. Taking a bath is to relax. There’s some washing that happens in there, but, for me, it’s really just to unwind and soak.

When I was pregnant with Hope, I used to take a bath 5-6 times a week. When I was single, I took one 3-4 times a week. But , as I started my water last night, I couldn’t remember the last time I took a bath. The thing is, I’m a mom and a wife now. My tub doesn’t get cleaned as often as it used to. I work all day, come home and either cook dinner or clean up (or sometimes both), help with homework, engage with my girls and hubby in conversation and when they are finally in bed, I want to just sit. The thought of cleaning out the tub so I can relax is not worth it.

Another thing about taking a bath that is hard for me is that it forces me to do nothing. Now that I have a Kindle and iPhone, I don’t have many paper books anymore, and if I do, they are borrowed from the library or a friend. My iPhone has had a couple of baths and the outcome has not been good, so I keep my electronics—and borrowed items--as far from water as possible. So, a bath—for me—means that I just sit and soak. This is not something I do well. I’m a “do-er” and when I sit, I think about all the things I should be doing, which causes me to stress that I’m not doing them at that very minute and the “relaxation” time turns into wasted time.

But God calls us to be still.

And I don’t think He begrudges us taking care of ourselves, either. I think back to Elijah. In 1 Kings 19, we see some incredible things God does because of Elijah’s faith in asking for them. Then we see God take care of Elijah through ravens. And we see Him speak to Elijah—not in a powerful wind, not in an earthquake, not in a fire, but in a gentle whisper.

This story tells me 2 things: #1—No matter how much I “do” for God (or others), He still wants me to take care of myself. I still need to eat and rest. #2—I can’t hear His whisper if I’m not still. This one really hits me with my hearing loss—I don’t hear whispers very often and in order for me to do so, I have to get rid of all the white noise around me first.

So, last night, as I was soaking in my tub, listening to my Nora Jones Pandora mix, enjoying the scent of my new mango bodywash I used as my bubble bath, I got still. And I don’t think God spoke any great thing to me. What I do know is that I was weary when I got in the tub. When I got out, I was still tired, but renewed. Hard to describe. I got in my jammies, put on my new aloe-infused socks, and climbed into bed with a book about leading people that I haven’t picked up in a few weeks.

As I am writing this morning and reflecting back to last night, I think God did whisper to me. I don’t know that I was still enough to hear it at the time.

I guess I’ll be taking another bath tonight. Maybe I’ll go to the store and get some real bubble bath this time.

Is it hard for you to "be still and know that He is God?" What things to you do to block out the white noise in your life? Do you own any bubble bath?