Showing posts with label Anne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne. Show all posts

Monday, March 7, 2011

A Gratitude Journal for Marriage


As my Gratitude List grows and my heart changes, the ripples extend outward. In listening to one of the chapter discussions on Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, she made a comment in passing that made all the bells and whistles in my head go off. She mentioned making a gratitude journal with your husband!! I LOVE this idea. 

It reminds me of a story I heard once, I cannot remember where (and I may actually be combining multiple stories), about a husband and wife who were on the point of divorce. I don't know if it was a counselor or a friend who gave them some very wise counsel. They were told to make a list of everything they disliked about their spouse. That certainly was an easy job. Their pencils were smoking from writing so fast. They sure didn't want to forget something before they could commit it to paper. The whole time they were writing, they were feeling the delicious, self-righteous, holier-than-thou blood beginning to boil. They would certainly prove who was causing all the problems in their marriage with their list. Their lists each covered multiple pages.


As they finished, they were told to do something that left their mouths hanging open. "Tear your list up into little pieces and throw it in the garbage can." 


What?! After all that work?? Don't you even want to look at it? Can't I at least give it to my spouse? 

But, they proceeded to tear up all those angry words, all the accusations.

Now what?


"Make a list of all the things you like, are grateful for, in your spouse."

Silence.


This is a joke, right?

But, it was not a joke. So they sat back down and picked up their pencils. This was much harder. It took them a lot longer. These lists weren't very long. They covered less than half a page. But each of them did come up with a few things that were positive to say about this person they were ready to give up on.


The next assignment? Read the list at least once each day.

You already know the end of the story, don't you?

Their attitudes toward each other changed. Completely. Not only did they not divorce, they are happily married. 


Changing the focus changed their relationship.

So when Ann, just in passing, mentioned a journal to share with a spouse, I thought about that story. And I thought about how it could bless our marriage. How it could help us grow closer and deeper in love. 



I bought this plain little journal and told Kregg what I hoped we could do. I wondered if he would think it was silly. We have a good marriage, after all. But he was willing to try it. I wrote first. It was a little awkward, but I wrote something about him I am thankful for, put the date beside it and left it on the counter in our closet. With a pen. For the first couple of days, my entry was alone. He has been so very busy, I'm sure he just forgot about it. But then, sure enough, I opened it one day and there was an entry from Kregg! What a precious gift!

And so now we play tag back and forth. It's lovely. And I look forward to our next 25 years together, counting blessings and filling our journal with years worth of notes. I believe it will change us. It will deepen our relationship and that will bless our children. And someday when we are older and grayer, we can share our legacy of gratitude with our kids. And the ripples will continue, for who knows how long?
 

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Perfectionism vs. Excellence

What's wrong with this picture? It was taken when we were in the breathtaking Canadian Rockies. Those majestic mountains, the azure blue of the sky, the verdant green forest all scream, "GORGEOUS"! But then there's that wacky tree. Does it bug you? I don't have PhotoShop, but I am sure there are people who could "fix" it. Then my picture would be "perfect".

REALLY?


That's the way my brain works sometimes. Okay, it's not my brain. It's my heart.

Oh great . . .


Here comes another object lesson right, Lord?

Why do I want it perfect? 

Perfectionism: a personal standard, attitude, or philosophy that demands perfection and rejects anything less.

What gives me the right to "reject"? What gives me the right to define the standard? Isn't it because I know how things should be, what's best, what I/others need? 


Oh, I see, it's Pride. (head drooping)

Pride. The sin of satan. Pride. To say I am the standard of measurement. Pride. To say I know best. Pride. It is such an ugly word when it reveals such arrogance. 

Perfectionism (aka: Pride) is focused on me, but the collateral damage devastates. And when that is the lens through which I see the Lord's Creation, it grieves His Father Heart. 

For His lens is Love. 

Perfectionism builds walls and causes separation. His Love seeks to gather us all unto Himself.

Instead of striving for Perfectionism, He would have me strive for Excellence. Doing everything as unto the Lord. For Him, not for me. For His Glory. Not mine. That's the difference. It's about the Glory. And it's all His. Not a single speck is safe for me, because it will only increase my desire for more.

Excellence versus Perfectionism is like Relationship versus Religiosity. It's like Grace versus Pharisaical Law. Perfectionism, Religiosity and Pharasaical Law are all about making someone jump through hoops. It's devoid of Life for our spirits. It bears no eternal fruit. It brings only bondage. And He is all about True Freedom.


Doing my best out of Love and releasing to Him my expectations of others brings Him Glory. It is filled with Life. It speaks to my spirit. It touches Eternity.


It's a beautiful scene. The mountains, the sky, and the trees all scream: The heavens declare the glory of God. The skies proclaim the work of His Hands. Day after day they pour forth speech. Night after night they display knowledge.


I think I will leave the tree as it is. 



Wednesday, November 17, 2010

My Heart, Reflected in My Children


Convicted.

Again.


I heard my child criticizing another driver as we were coming home yesterday. Guess where she learned to do that? 

My youngest is a mirror for my soul. The Lord did that on purpose. He wants to purify my soul. He wants me to be a mirror for Him. 

This morning there's more. The lesson of yesterday wasn't enough. 

He is serious about this. 

This morning, I hear how harshly she speaks to her siblings at times. Guess where she learned to do that? My words are not always seasoned with Grace. 

He is serious about this.

In His Faithfulness, He cannot leave me like this. I can fight Him while kicking and screaming, or I can humbly focus on His Sovereignty over my every thought, word, and action.

From the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. 

Lord, 
Please help me submit fully and allow You to sanctify the deepest recesses of my heart. I am so quick to use my mouth in ways that do not bring You Glory. Thank You for always forgiving me. Please help me pay attention. Please help me be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, Oh Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. Thank you for showing me what I sound like. I know that it is Your most loving way to remind me of Your Will. Thank You for loving me enough to convict me and correct me. Please help me set a good example for my children. In every moment. In every thing.




 

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

CHL


Two of our future National Rifle Association members

Okay, if you know what those initials mean, you will know where this is headed. CHL stands for Concealed Handgun License. 

I know!

You are shocked that I know what those initials mean.

Well, I do live with all these people who go out and shoot things to put in our freezer.

When a certain person, who shall remain nameless, was elected, many firm believers in the 2nd Amendment felt their Constitutional right to bear arms was in grave danger. My husband's response was not only to buy more guns and ammo, (like he really needed an excuse :) but to sign up for a class to get his CHL. We had some friends who thought it was a great idea. And before I knew what was happening, it was this big social event and I had a ticket!!! What does one wear to a CHL class? Should I have my nails done? Wait a minute! I've never had my nails done.

Anyway, as the day approached I kept asking myself how on earth I had been sucked into this vicious vortex? I had never shot a handgun IN MY LIFE!! I've only shot the long ones once or twice. 

But since Kregg really wanted me to do it, I guessed I should. He kept telling me how fun it would be. But, I couldn't hear him over my hyperventilation.

The class lasts 12 hours and then there is a written test. That part didn't make me nervous. Irritated, yes. Nervous, no. 

It started on a Saturday morning at 7 a. m. across town!! That's just WRONG on so many levels. But, off we went. Our friends even came to pick us up! I think that was an insurance policy to make sure I didn't back out at the last minute. They wanted to shame me into coming. It worked.

The day was at least 47 hours long. But that allowed us to do all kinds of fun things like have our fingerprints and mugshots taken! We are in the database!  At the end of the day, we took our written exam. I have always done well on exams and so, even though I knew nothing prior to that morning about handguns or laws or things, I made a perfect score.

But the real fun didn't start until the next day. After church, we went to the gun range to do our qualifying shoot. Just saying that makes me laugh! To qualify, we had to be able to shoot a certain number of shots in a certain amount of time from different distances. The shots are scored according to what part of the target you hit. The target is a silhouette of a person!!! I'm just having all kinds of mental issues

Well, we arrived at the range and I know I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. I was thinking, "I cannot do this! I cannot do this! I cannot do this!" I didn't even know how to load the goofy thing. The other two wives who were in my same predicament were feeling exactly the same way. Thankfully, a really sweet lady, who just happens to shoot competitively, offered to take the three of us down to another stall at the range and work with us for a few minutes. She even let us use her guns. It really did help. A lot.

The thing I was dreading the most was having people watch me. I know it shouldn't matter. But I was really embarrassed about trying to do this in front of a bunch of crack shots. (I said "crack shots", not "crack pots"!)  But since we were having our own little private lesson, it allowed all our classmates to finish their qualifying. That was great!! They would all be done and gone by the time we got back. What a relief! I felt better. Much better.

Well, they were all finished.

But they were still all there!!

They had ALL stayed to watch us! EEEEEEKKKKKKK! Just when you think it can't possibly get any worse . . .

Well, I had two choices: muddle through or leave. Kregg really didn't want me to leave. And I really didn't want to, after already investing an ENTIRE day. Plus, what am I always telling the kids? "Finish what you start. It's about integrity. It's about diligence."

So, up to the firing line I stepped. 

You know what is the funniest part of the whole thing?

I shot the highest score in the entire class! I tied with Kregg!!!

Kregg told me that he was going to take down the alarm sign in front of the house, laminate my qualifying target, and put it on a big stake in the front yard with a sign that reads: "My wife's target." 

Hahahahaha!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Life: Served Up in a Million Pieces A Day


I want to dictate the terms of engagement. 

I want to be able to put things in a box and tie it up with a nice, neat ribbon. 

But life keeps climbing out of the box!


My response? Today?  Whack it! Beat it back into the box!! Blow it out of the water with a canon.

It's not pretty when I feel this way. My children don't watch this attitude and think, "Wow! Mom is bringing such glory to God through her choices!"


Cultivating young souls day in and day out is messy. I can't make it be nice and neat. He wants me to climb back up on this altar called motherhood and allow Him to slay me. Again. And again. And again. 


Until I quit crawling off. 


Until I quit pouting when I don't get my way.


Until I quit expecting it to not be messy.

Until I quit walking in my own strength and wisdom.

Until I quit reacting in anything but LOVE.


Lord, please help me love the way You Love. Please help me surrender my definitions and expectations of what my day looks like. Please help me surrender to Your Plan. Please help me willingly allow You to pour me out each day in service to my family. 

Completely. 

Without holding anything back for tomorrow, or this afternoon, or the very next minute. 

Either I believe You are sufficient, or I don't. 

You ARE. 

I am not. 

Not in the tiniest most minuscule way am I able to be what You desire, apart from YOU! Please fill me up with Yourself, so I can be emptied completely of myself. So I can lavish Your abundance on every second. 

Thank you for this life. Thank you for this job. Thank You for Loving me with an Everlasting Love, even though it's me!



Saturday, October 9, 2010

Rebekah's Rescue

 Rebekah came running into the house a little while ago saying, "Mama, hurry there's an owl in our back yard!! It's on the ground. I think it's hurt!!"


 Obviously, upon closer inspection it is actually a hawk. It's wing is broken. I called our "country vet" and they said they would help it if we could get it to them. "IF". 


Kregg, Caleb, Joshua, Elizabeth, and Benjamin all left at 6:30 this morning to go to the deer lease. They were going to set up blinds and feeders. So the only ones left were me, Mackenzy and Rebekah. We decided the best plan, considering that beak and those talons, and the fact that he did not understand we were trying to help, was to try to throw a large towel over him and then pick him up and put him in a box. Rebekah manned the box, Mackenzy had the towel. I was a "herder". Thankfully, he couldn't make it very high off the ground, so we just chased him back and forth until an opportune moment presented itself. He finally cornered himself for us. Mackenzy dropped the towel over him, and I picked him up and put him in the box. Rebekah snapped on the lid and we were off to the vet.
They gave him some medicine for the pain, and were going to wait until Monday to see if the break is one that can heal or if they will have to put him down. Until Monday, we will just have to wait and wonder and pray he will be alright.


Can anyone identify him for me??? He doesn't match any of the pictures in our bird book. Thank you for your help.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

The Terrifying Tarantula


I am terrified of spiders!  My husband just laughs at me and rolls his eyes. 

Normally, I am actually pretty rational and responsible and clear thinking. I have routinely handled vomit, broken bones, and lots and lots of blood. But when it comes to spiders, some deeply seated fear takes over and I become completely irrational. 

That really is a problem living where we live. We just happen to have a very large population of tarantulas, brown recluse, and black widows. Oh goody!

For years, especially while the kids were little, I was concerned about having an exterminator come. I know it is supposed to be fine, but I just didn't want someone to come back years later and decide that it was actually dangerous. Seems like that happens often.

I was finally pushed over the edge one night when, while laying in bed, a brown recluse ran down my arm! Instinctively I grabbed it and flung it across the room, then jumped up and found its crumpled body. 

I felt no remorse. None. 

Instead, I felt rage! Instantly I was a new convert to the principle of maintaining a strict regimen of pest control administered by a trained professional. I reasoned that the "completely safe residue" left by the exterminator had to be safer than the distinct possibility that my children would be overrun by brown recluse spiders as they slept peacefully in their beds.

I had reached the point of no return.

Having put the situation in perspective, you will now understand more fully the situation that arose on another memorable night.


My husband and children have a really odd affliction. They like snakes.  Since you can't really hunt for deer or normal things in west Texas, they like to go hunt snakes! They catch them and keep them! Can you imagine? I won't even discuss at this point how I feel about snakes. That will be saved for another day.

On the night under discussion, I was sucked into the snake hunting vortex. They used the guilt thing on me. "Oh Mom, please come with us! It will be so fun! You don't have to hold or touch anything! You may actually realize that you like it. Oh PLEASE! We want you to come with us!" Followed by lots of puppy dog eyes.

I am not a rookie, but I fell for it anyway. Hook, line and sinker. Did they really just want me along or did they know how fun it would be to watch me running and screaming hysterically down a dark highway in the middle of nowhere? 

For their snake hunting extravaganzas, they would leave home sometime after dinner and drive a couple of hours to a "good spot", which meant it was 30 or 40 miles from the nearest source of electricity, let alone plumbing. We're talkin' a thousand miles from the middle of NOWHERE, in the middle of the night!!


Do you know how many creatures there are along a seemingly uninhabitable stretch of remote highway? Do you understand how terrifying many of them are? NONE of them are friendly, trust me! They were NOT happy about our visit.


Well, I decided the safest place for me was right beside the van, just in case I needed to make a hasty retreat. I was standing there as they walked up and down the sides of the roads with flashlights. At one point, they actually walked out of sight! I was standing there, alone. Now I do have to admit the stars were spectacular.


But what happened next made me forget all about the beauty of the stars.


They came back with an enormous tarantula!!!! Just when you think a spider isn't horrifying enough, add fur and they become exponentially more terrifying! 


I couldn't believe they actually wanted to keep it! Are they nuts??


Since the snakes weren't out, Kregg decided it was time to start home. That part was fine. The part that wasn't fine was the part about taking the "thing" home with us. I was trying not to hyperventilate. But then they start the "Oh Mom, it's so cool!" stuff and what am I supposed to do?


I dutifully climbed behind the wheel of the van to start our homeward trip. Filled to overflowing with adrenaline, I was the obvious candidate to drive because I was WIDE awake! They put the "thing" in one of those clear plastic shoe boxes. They just happen to carry several of them around for their captives. They set "It" on the floor behind my seat. 

Fifteen minutes into the drive, they are all sound asleep. I, however, am gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles thinking about "It."


As I am driving along, my imagination begins to run away with me:
What if someone bumped the box and the lid came lose?
What if they didn't really get the lid on all the way?
What if "It" was already lose and climbing up the back of the driver's seat, planning to jump on my head?


Then I started imagining something crawling on me!

That's it!!! I couldn't take it! I had to know where "It" was!


While driving down the highway, I carefully reached behind my seat and picked up the box, which in itself gave me several new gray hairs. 


"It" was still in there! All eight hairy legs!!


What now? I certainly couldn't hold "It" the whole time. I was already driving somewhat erratically. So, I put the box on the dash RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. At least now, I knew where "It" was the whole time! And so for the remainder of the two hours home, the thing crawled around inside that box while I held my breath, expecting it to jump out and attack me at any moment!


Needless to say, I had no trouble staying awake! 


You would think they would have sympathy on me, knowing how that experience scarred me. But, NO! One of the boys' favorite things to do is bring a tarantula in the house in one of those orange five gallon buckets and say, "Mom, look what we just caught!"


That's just mean!!









Friday, October 1, 2010

Here's to Silliness

Elizabeth as a Bug

I tend to be a "shortest-distance-between-two-points" person. Ways to increase efficiency frequently pop into my brain concerning all our "systems", "projects" and "activities." That can be very helpful when managing all the logistics for a large family. But, if focused on too much, it can suck all the fun out of the room. As always, balance is the issue that requires constant vigilance on my part. The longer I have been at this "job" of mothering/homemaking/homeschooling , the easier it has become for me to forget frivolity. How boring! It makes me sad when I find myself being silly around friends and then realize I forgot to be silly with the kids today. So as a simple personal reminder, I decided to buzz through the small percentage of family photos I actually have on my laptop and remind myself to walk in balance. 

Who knows?

They talked for hours.

Bubbles!!

And more bubbles!!

Haven't you always wanted to be inside a giant set of teeth?

I think every parent has a picture like this of their child.

Anything for a laugh!

Really think the tan boots would coordinate better.

Elizabeth was cold, so she burrowed under Hannah's shawl.

Tilt-A-Whirl!!

Killin' time on the train into Canada

The Redcoats are coming!

Josh is glad he doesn't really have to wear breeches

Wanna hear a whopper of a fish story?

And then there's Rebekah

I really don't know. Maybe just because she can.


Elizabeth taught the Crocodile Hunter everything he knew.

And then there was Rebekah, again.


Doesn't everyone let raccoons crawl on their shoulders? Huh?

Joe Cool

Yes, I am in a cow ride at Six Flags. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.

Caleb, on left, as a hula dancer

She's usually such a model child. And, yes, her tongue is green.
Don't know if it is a fungus or that green candy she was eating.

Josh is trying to imitate a vicious wolverine. Or maybe a really mean gerbil.

It's Nemo!


Mackenzy with her coffee. Hannah giving Mackenzy
moose antlers.

It's Rebekah, again. She just appears with these projects.

Ben almost sucked the candles off the cupcakes as he inhaled.

You know they have height restrictions to make sure you aren't too short
to ride something this dangerous.

She does this a lot!

Josh's moose imitation

Ben as a contortionist

Don't you love the hair sticking out the eye holes?
Mackenzy just hangin' around in the front yard.



He had a really hard time learning to wink.

They're everywhere! They're everywhere!! Head for the hills!

You just never know what to expect next at our house. But it's never dull.

 Okay, I feel better. 

May your day be anointed with fun!


Monday, March 15, 2010

My First Ski Trip


The first time I ever went skiing, I was in high school. My sister, Stephanie, volunteered to take me, John, and Kerri and teach us to ski. Never one to do anything half-heartedly, she took us to Vail. What a wonderful sister she is!

We arrived at the resort and almost lost John right off the bat. They were filming the old television series "Charlie's Angels" right in the middle of Vail! He wanted to stay and see the "angels" in person. For his own good, we drug him along with us.

Our first ski day, Stephanie enrolled all of us in ski school. That allowed us time to learn some of the basics. Important things like how to put our skis on and how to fall down so we didn't go careening down the mountain, picking up speed like a giant snowball and ending up taking out the lodge. I thought we were doing well, but when Steph came to pick us up at the end of the day, the following conversation ensued:

Ski instructor: "Are they coming back tomorrow?"
Stephanie: "No, I'm going to take them with me tomorrow."
Ski instructor: "I really think they should come back tomorrow."
Stephanie: "I've been skiing for years and I've taught several people to ski. It will be okay."
Ski instructor: "I really think they should come back tomorrow."

Day Two dawned bright and beautiful. We, the pupils, had full confidence in our "ski master's" abilities to have us swooshing gracefully down the slopes in a couple of hours. We spent the morning, however, learning various ways to fall. By the afternoon, Steph decided we were ready for a little more of a challenge. Kerri could go down any slope because she never came out of her snow plow, even when she fell. All we had to do was go flip her back up. Of course, she never went over 2.5 miles per hour, but slow and steady wins the race, right? 

Stephanie assigned John to escort Kerri down a green "road" that would intersect the slope she wanted to take me down. We saw them off and then made our way to the lift. At the top of the slope, Steph wanted to double check just to make sure she knew which way to go. To her horror, she realized the only way to get to our meeting point  with John and Kerri was down a black mogul run. For non-skiers, a black slope is a really hard one and moguls are giant snow bumps. 

Standing at the top of the trail, I told my "ski master" there was no way!!!! I couldn't see over these moguls and the slope was almost vertical! She assured me that we would take it slowly and just traverse. Naively, I followed her. There is no way to describe the impossibility of the task we had set for ourselves. Stephanie is a good skier; without me, she could have managed. I, on the other hand, had no hope of survival.

I don't even know how many times I crashed. Hopelessly less than half way down, I once again lost control. I picked up speed and took another spectacular crash landing flat of my back. As I lay there contemplating the meaning of life and whether mine had come to an inglorious and abrupt end, I realized I had crashed right under the lift. As if an audience of strangers going over on the lift was not bad enough to witness my humiliated state, I suddenly heard a familiar voice shouting: "Hey, I know you!!"

It was the ski instructor!! 

Can you imagine what he was thinking of my "ski master" at that moment??