I don't talk Thai!

I am about as meat and potatoes as it gets with my food. I'm not a food "prood" but I don't get down with new cuisines without proper planning. Basically, I need time to Google the menu before we go. Enter my 2 best girlfriends, Christ given sisters, trouble makers, food explorationists. Yes, that is a word.

Couple years ago when the 3 of us were finally in the same state (don't ask, its always confusion), 2 of the 3 of us really wanted Thai food (me not being one of the 2). I'm not a Thai food hater its just way outside my comfort zone. Way, like another continent comfort zone. Reluctantly, because I love these 2 so much, I went and ordered the most Chinese dish I could find (hey, I never said I didn't like Chinese only said I prefer familiarity and time to prepare).

 

So, Something that reasonably looked like beef broccoli came to the table and surprisingly it was really good. Now the other 2 are a different story. They sat across the table from each other chirping about this flavor and that flavor and this sauce and that sauce and tea drinks and so on and so on and so on and so on and so on, well, you get the point. They love Thai food. Love like licked the plate clean love. Yes, they have to love and forgive me and one of them did in fact lick their plate. Clean. No need to wash, clean.

This makes me think about what in my life I love enough to lick the plate? The obvious are my husband, my kids and my family because from my outward appearance you know I'm married because I wear a ring and I have kids (we won't revisit that "pregnant" post from yesterday), and I exist so you know I have to have parents somewhere (sunny Florida at this moment if I had to guess). But what else is plate licking important in my life?

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. Luke 22:14

I'm pretty sure if plate licking love was going to happen in the New Testament it happened at the Last Supper. Soaking up as much of Jesus as the disciples could and not wanting to leave anything on the table. Jesus commands us to love one another. To love even in the midst of misunderstanding, hurt and troubles, His command is to love (maybe even love it enough to lick the plate although I can't seem to find that in the Gospels). Peter, who would deny Jesus, sat at the table, soaking in (if not licking the plate) of Jesus' final words not wanting the dinner to end for he knew what was to come.

 "Peter replied, 'Man, I don't know what you're talking about!' Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter." Luke 22:60-61

 

I love the story of Peter. After the denial, he sat in the presence of Jesus again sharing a meal and heard Jesus say I love you 3 times. 3 times the love for 3 times of denial. Redemption. I can relate to Peter. At a point in his panic and fear he denied he was a follower of Christ. It was a moment when he lost focus of the Jesus he soaked in and he panicked. At points in my life I know I can be counted guilty of denial myself. When I'm slowed down by traffic in the morning and get frustrated, denied Christ. When I get snappy about something someone said or I judge someone about their parenting, denied Christ. When I get mad about things I cannot change or influence, denied Christ and the list goes on. When I rely on myself when responding to something, I'm denying the grace and power Christ has over my life. Temporary panic reaching for quick rather that grip the grace that Christ provides.

 

Lord, I love you. I pray that you forgive me when I fall short. I pray the outbursts, frustration and less gracious moments be replaced with mercy, kindness and humility. I sit at Your table in awe of Your love for me and soak in the forgiveness and redemption I don't deserve. Thank You Lord. Amen.   

Made to Crave... Cheetos?

Ok, due to my Kindle Fire being so amazingly, super awesome I am currently reading a Jesus book, a parenting book, a husband book and a food book. Thanks to Amazon, I now pray before "knowing" my husband and am grateful after dinner (that "knowing" comment comes from Genesis, read it sometime, good stuff, Moses rocks). Right now I'm in the midst of finding a deeper relationship with Jesus (Not a Fan book) and divorcing my even deeper relationship with food (Made to Crave by Lysa TerKeurst who is also an amazingly awesome writer). So far none of my topics are overlapping like I thought they would. I'm managing to keep everything straight for now...

 

I've never had issues with food. Not ones I would admit. I say that because being 110 lbs through my early twenties until I met my future husband (blame blame blame) I was happy with me (so I thought, lie #1). I could eat whatever I wanted, didn't really care what it was (pizza is my dirty little secret I'll tell to everyone) all the while not realizing that my 20 year old metabolism was why I could eat anything I wanted. Then comes late 20's early 30-nothings and with the 30's comes reproduction (blame the husband, he "knew" me all to well). So 2 babies in 4 years created a road map to my sole of stretchmarks and a belly button no longer where it belongs (which I think I've shared before). Am I still happy with me?

I've stressed for too long of what the "post" baby me looks like. Here is my reality... If I had the old me back I wouldn't have Colt Levi and Riley. There is a trade. Pray and ask God for 2 amazingly, super, awesome (too much?) kids without paying a small price to bring them into this world or have the skinny me back who was lonely and frequented bars entirely too much prior to happiness? I think this one is a no brainer.

 

I say all this because just this morning someone asked me if  I was pregnant again (belly button thing). Sigh. If she only knew the "armor" that closed that fort after Riley she would not have asked. Its not her fault that she asked and honestly I think she is probably more mortified than I am about even asking that question. I can either let that rock me and run as fast as I can into the arms of chocolate chip soft batch cookies or I can reflect on what good has come to me in the last 4 years. Life doesn't stay the same and we change for the better. I made a choice not to let it rock me cause this me, confident, wife, Mommy, I sure do like her alot.

 

"Each lost pound was not a quest to get skinny but evidence of obedience to God." Lysa TerKerust-Made to Crave

 

I will go before you
and will level the mountains;
I will break down gates of bronze
and cut through bars of iron.
I will give you hidden treasures,
riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the Lord,
the God of Israel, who summons you by name.

 

Isaiah 45:2-3

 

The answer is yes. I am happy with me because God went before me and said my life was to be great and that works just fine for me.

Where you go...

Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” Ruth 1:17

The Book of Ruth has always been my absolute favorite book of the Bible. I may apply it to life in ways that may be considered by some differently but each has their own scripture that hits home. For me, I apply parts of the Book of Ruth to my marriage. But Ruth replied, “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.  Ruth 1:16b.   Where you go, you're people will be my people...

I'm reading a book right now called Not a Fan: Becoming a Completely Committed Follower of Jesus by Kyle Idleman. Amazing book but it has some truth to it that is a hard pill to swallow. It talks about how Jesus wants us to be faithful sacrificial followers of Him not just "Jesus fish" on the bumper fans. Yes, there is a difference (and now I will enter the "offender zone" where some or most will not agree with my opinion). Hey, I'm just applying what Kyle says, blame him (but read the book first, good stuff). So how do I work in the Book of Ruth, being a fan of Christ and my husband all in the same post?

Its no secret that I absolutely adore my husband. He is truly everything God knew I always needed in one person (wow, I know) and so much more. My husband was given to my by God. Nothing I had every done on my own thinking I had a "type" ever turned out to be real until I met Jimmie. Then all the sudden the world made sense. I don't deserve him. I cherish my husband. As a husband, as my partner in life, a father to my children and as a friend, he is amazing to me. I love my husband. I honor him, I respect him, I believe in him, I support him, would do anything for him, he knows me, he loves me. When my relationship with Christ is the most exclusive relationship in my life, then every other relationship in my life will flourish with God's truth and wisdom.

 

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

God wants my "Big Girl Pants"?

Does God really want my "big girl" pants? It's no secret I've birthed 2 children in 3 years. What is a secret is all the "clever" ways I think I'm hiding the damage they did to my body over the course of their journey into this world. Shirts, dresses, distracting extremely high heals to change the focus, its true, God does want my big girl pants. 

 

I used to be the "skinny" no eater in high school. I wouldn't eat breakfast, wouldn't eat lunch and then starving by the time I got home from school when I snacked on anything I could get my hands on until dinner. Chips have always been my drug of choice. Any and all, I don't discriminate. I honestly believe that I'm genetically part potato (insert snarky couch reference) because my other weakness is fries. Skinny McDonald's fries to be exact (not said in anyway to mislead and let on that fries will make you skinny, cause they won't). I get them when we casually drive through to get a snack before going home, get them as a side when I could have had a salad and the degradation goes on and on. The truth of the matter is my now 30+1+1+1 mommy frame can't keep up with the active 30-15 old me where belly buttons used to be where they belong.

 

I say all this because my recent discovery, or you could say obsession (but not hiding in the bushes obsession), with Lysa TerKeurst has landed me reading Made to Crave. I've been a "I'll start Monday" mommy when it comes to eating better and trying to be a better me physically. My reality is, I wish my 30-15 body was who was chasing my children on the weekends. Yikes! I attempted 2 naps yesterday (attempted being the key word) which really I should only be doing in the event of re-pregnancy (I took that test and passed without studying). I am tired but no tired from the mommy demands. I'm tired because I don't eat energy foods and  what little energy I do have is locked up in the clutches of Mr. Smarty Pants and Miss Nosy Rosie.

 

So, what to do when I need to change my stinkin thinkin? Find a good book, crawl into the lap of the Lord and pray God change me. Before beginning Lysa's book, I never looked at my physical needs as something God needed to be part of. Sure I prayed hard for stuff like healthy pregnancies but as far as asking God to repair the pregnancy "damage" I never thought to ask. I've been through 1 Corinthians a few times and honestly skipped right over 6:19-20 Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body. Ding ding ding! What do we have for the winner Bob! I know, HELLO, its right there in the Word and I skipped right over it!

 

Lord, I give you my big girl pants. I pray today that I would honor you emotionally, mentally and physically with all that I am and the choices I make. I humble ask for discernment to make the right choices and that You be the only One I crave. Through Jesus sacrifice and Love, Amen.

All Aboard! SS Depression set to sail...

Yes, I sailed upstream on the SS Depression after my son was born in 2009. The trouble is, I had no idea I packed my bags for an extended stay until the trip ended. The entire first year of my son's life I was depressed and never realized it. I thought my feelings of being overwhelmed and exhausted were "normal" with a new baby. That some how this crying, screaming baby with colic some how broke between the time we left the hospital and the time we got him home and of course it was all my fault.

When I came home with my son it was horrible. I thought to myself, I've wanted kids my whole life. I've prayed about them, played baby dolls as a child, I've got ovaries so lets do this but when it was time to bring him home I was clueless. I think the "expectations" I had put on myself of being Super-Mommy were a bit distorted (ok, disastrous is a better word). I thought everyone else has done this why can't I. The reality was none of the other mommies had ever mentioned the train wreck that was about to happen emotionally after spending 40 weeks as an incubator. The one hour of the day I visited them to ooh and awe over their new bundle of joy was the one hour of the day they had mentally psyched themselves up all day to do. The roller coaster of emotions, restoration of "Whoville" post delivery and the lack of sleep breed insecurity, isolation and fear. I suffered alone. I never said to my girlfriends, moms, doctor, no one knew I secretly wanted to hide under the covers and disappear. Well, my husband knew and God love his heart tried but to him I was a train wreck he couldn't look away from.

I share this now not because I want anyone to feel sorry for me or to try and comfort me after the fact but because I've made a commitment. Transparency. The good with the bad this Momma is taking a road trip and Jesus is taking the wheel (thank you and cudos to Carrie Underwood)! Depression is no joke and if I can tell just one Mommy feeling overwhelmed, under-appreciated and exhausted that there is a light at the end of the tunnel no matter how long the tunnel I will. That yes, these bundles of joy we prayed so hard for, hand delivered by God do eventually stop crying and rest will eventually come.  

I think it is easier now to sit and say I was depressed more than I was able to admit it 3 years ago. I'm outside the hula hoop space (space in my general vicinity that I feel I can control, said no one ever) and can look with clear eyes and say what the heck. I recognize now with baby #2 that if that cloud starts forming over my head I take a seat and beg God for rest. I do. I beg God. I'm not ashamed. He's seen me at my worst.

 

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. James 1:5

 

 

Mommy Pooty Pants...

No, its not what you think. Mommy has been sufficiently potty trained for a very long time (only one "very" so I don't give away my age...) but I didn't exactly have the best of Saturdays. My husband got called to work Saturday. Grrrrrr. Its not a normal situation he works on the weekends but I told him to go and get it done (10 hours later he's finally home). Anyway, outside of my partner in crime being MIA for parenting responsibilities this weekend, I felt like a piece of me was missing. I just felt off my game. So, when I feel off my game what is the single-handed best thing I can do, alone, with my scary children?... Wait for it... Picture day! Yippie! What a fabulous idea (said no one ever).

 

Yes, I packed my kids and went to have their pictures made. Now, I won't forget to respectfully mention both Nana and Mammaw were present and accounted for on this adventure but its not the same. Hubby equals a fair amount of discipline when necessary so when its just mommy, alone (did I mention that already) as the disciplinarian, I get to turn into the green eyed monster who frets her children are behaving like animals. I know I am not a wolf or a hyena (I think a hyena would definitely raise wild children because they are all crazy-eyed and laugh all the time) but I never remember to pray it forward and thank God for a great day with my kids. Instead, I hide in my closet and beg God "why, why, why" at the end of the day. OK, dramatic. I've received my Emmy, lets move on.

 

Its so funny that I self punish myself about being a green eyed monster when I've seen other children and, although I try not to judge other parents, I know my kids have never acted like that (yet, said softly and out of ear shot of the kids). I do punish myself. If it wasn't because I felt like my kids were uncooperative for the pictures "I" wanted, I punished myself over the amount of money I spent on the final pictures (yes, when Hubby is not there all logic and reason fly out the door and I behave like a woman in a shoe store). I can't help it. I have a brain that functions well (most of the time) but when my kids are wild I just grab and go and shop only thinking about how fast I can get out and not if what's in my cart is healthy or not (why I bought stock in Little Debbie).

 

The truth is, my self talk, is destructive. Not only in the moment but for my health and my sanity. My kids were fine on Saturday and I survived but it was the picture of what I wanted to look like (glued together, neatly presentable, perfect awe moments from everyone in the shop wanting kids like mine) that didn't. There is only 1 me. This is the only me you get so whether I'm unglued or complimented on how well motherhood suits me, this is the me you get.

 

I've shared before that I'm reading Lysa TerKeurst's "Unglued" book right now and it is by far life changing for a life like mine. I'm always going to be this me but by God's Grace and Love I can see that chaotic moments with my children are gracious moments with my children provided by God.

Sow righteousness for yourselves,
reap the fruit of unfailing love,
and break up your unplowed ground;
for it is time to seek the Lord,
until he comes
and showers his righteousness on you. Hosea 10:12 (NIV)

 

 

This weekend...

I actually accomplished a lot this weekend. I successfully jumped off the no caffeine/sugary beverage wagon with a loud WEEEEE (ugh, a wagon I did not want to jump off of), I got to sew a few things, spend time with mom, visit the fabric store (a big WEEE there too as I skipped through the front door), spent time with great friends and wore the kids out at the park. It was a really good weekend. Just to recap:

I re-purposed a baby blanket Riley never used to make a bib (actually several bibs).

Pattern is from http://nested.typepad.com (insert all that legal stuff that should be said to give credit to the pattern designer, by no means try to steal credit, rights or privileges belonging until the originator of the pattern. Simple terms: go to the link and get the pattern to sew for yourself but I'm not giving you permission to sew and sell. You've got to get with Nested. I'm only sharing my finished project I made to use for my kid. Yep, I think I stink at the legal disclaimer...)

 

Cut

 

Cute. No finished bib does not come with a baby.

 

And...

 

Results from long play date with good friends... I love these moments. Speechless. Literally. Wink Wink to all the Mommies in the blog-o-sphere!

And last, I know I mentioned before about the whole 30 days of Pinterest (which was an epic flop by day 2) but I pinned something neat on Friday and thought about making it this weekend since I road tripped it to the fabric store. I saw these little Rick Rack Rose someone pinned on Pinterest and thought I would try some myself. Turned out super cute until my son ripped the rose off my hair snap. Sigh. Note to self, don't leave projects where little curious hands can reach them. Duly noted.

PS: It is fixable I just wasn't up to getting the glue gun out. Again. Still turned out just like the picture.