Poop, Pants & Playtime

My family. Bless their hearts. They make me laugh, they make me cry {happy, sad and unbelievably mad tears}, but they also bring me to the point of shouting, ‘What in the world?’ numerous times a day, although a few other phrases may or may not pop into my head, depending on the gravity of the situation. I really do believe I have a sense of humor but evidently not as large as it needs to be to survive these lunatics that call me Mom and Wife.

Sunday night, D1 and I were doing bath time. We work some killer tag team action and have a pretty standard routine established. One washes while the other picks up the dirty clothing {scattered to and fro in their mad dash to the tub} and lays out the jams. This particular night, I was on Mommy Maid Duty and as I was lifting a pair of undies {poor McQueen - those racing stripes should be black, not brown}, I noticed a spot on the bathroom rug, a spot strangely resembling poop. Based on the fact that the spot is dry and hardened, I figured it must be mud. When I tell D1 that I thought it was poop, he said, ‘Oh, no. You're right. It is poop. I forgot about that. It happened a few days ago.’ WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. You forget your lunch money, maybe even your kid at daycare. But POOP on the RUG? I just can't get my mind around how one can forget that. It’s kind of, oh, I don’t know, SIGNIFICANT.

Let’s not forget about my incident yesterday. I had agreed to swing by and grab some files from a practice located near our house and then meet a colleague, J, to hand them off. Instead of driving home, dropping d2 and d3 with D1 and finally heading out for the files, I decided it would just be easier to take them with me. I could just run in, get the files, run out, drive to the meeting place and hand the files out the window. They would never even have to un-buckle. What could possibly go wrong? Clearly I don’t give my children enough credit. As we are sitting in the parking lot, waiting for J to arrive, d2 was reading a book in the backseat. Next thing I know, J pulls up and starts toward the car. Just before she gets to my window, I turn around to find d2’s pants around his ankles. WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. Oh, his undies were on, thank goodness, but what was I supposed to do? I could draw attention to him and yell, ‘Pull up your draws, boy!’ or I could pretend I didn’t know and hope she doesn’t poke her head in to say hello. I went with plan B and am hopeful she didn’t sneak a peek at my ‘precious children.’ I'm also grateful that d3 held on to his copy of 'Fox in Socks' and didn't hurl the board book at my head until after J got back in her car. I would like to keep up the facade that my boys are well-behaved and that I've got it together for as long as possible. Note to self: never underestimate the potential of a preschooler to mortify their mother.

Since we’re {not} on the subject of precious children, does anyone else have to play some crazy games at 3am with their itty bitty? The other night d3 woke up crying. Based on his increased whininess, chronic clinginess and fingers-shoved-in-the-mouth syndrome, my professional diagnosis is protruding molars and I’m assuming that’s what caused him to wake up in the middle of the night. As experienced parents know, there’s not a whole lot you can do for them during these times. We’ve tried teething tablets {eh, they’re okay}, Orajel {disgusting and NEVER helped our kids}, whiskey {or so I’ve heard…..} and Motrin. We usually only go with the latter {Motrin, NOT whiskey – unless someone tells me it helps?!?} if he’s inconsolable but usually with a little rocking and a lotta lovin’, he’s able to get back to sleep. Well, on this particular night, that was just not the case. I rocked him until I fell asleep, which I then felt certain HE was asleep. When I put him back in his crib, he started squirming and, though he wasn’t crying, he was on the verge. I didn’t have to be holding him, I just had to be there touching him. So I sat on my knees and stroked his hair until, again, I was SURE he was asleep. As I removed my hand and started to stand up, my good ole’ 30-almost-31-year-old knees made some awful cracking noises and d3 sat straight up. There went that. Back to my knees I went but this time I was forming a plan. Since my legs were too noisy, I decided that I was going to crawl. Because I was afraid he might still see the shadow of my back as I crawled out the door, I went out on my belly, slithering like a snake. WHAT.IN.THE.WORLD. {....and I was a little sore the next morning - you don't really practice 'the slither' in Zumba} I guess this is one way to get Mommy to play Jungle Animals. It's too bad we don't have cameras in his room. We just might have won a few bucks on my 'sneaky' exit.

I like this last story. It makes me sound like an incredibly selfless mother that can’t stand for her child to cry. In all actuality, crying doesn’t bother me. I can usually sleep through it. I just had no burning desire for the other two boys to hear him wailing and wake up any earlier than usual to join us for the BIG fun. After all, 6am is early enough. And maybe, just maybe, during that rocking session, I started thinking how my ‘baby’ will be TWO next week and that, soon enough, he won’t ask me to ‘wok’ him anymore. Though d3 was a bit of a 'surprise,' God certainly knew what He was doing. His plan continues to unfold everyday and we are simply amazed at what He has done and continues to do in the 'D' Family.

Stay tuned......

A Day In The Life....

.....of a mom of boys.

Disclaimer: The following conversations are authentic re-enactments, though a bit indecent. Consider yourself warned.

With the preschool teacher –

Ms. S – ‘Mrs. Darnell, we had a little incident today. Apparently d2 {and some of his friends} are going through a curious stage involving nudity. Today he drew a picture of his daddy. In his picture, his daddy was naked and his picture was very, ahem, detailed.’

Me – ‘Well, thank goodness he chose daddy for his art project and not me.’


On the afternoon commute –

Me – ‘Did you have a good day at school?’
d2 – ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Me – ‘What fun things did you do?’
d2 – ‘We had preschool graduation and show-and-tell. I also played on the computer. But when I got up from the computer, my winky was bigger. Somehow it grew. And it’s growing right now. Why, Mommy?’

Me – ‘Oh. Well then. Look at that big airplane. Ooh, I have some gum. Would you like a piece? Let’s listen to some music.’


Come on. Did you really think I was going to educate my 4 year old son, right then and there, on the male body and all the nifty tricks it can do? Not a chance. Luckily, he didn’t pursue it further, thanks to my awesome re-direction techniques. For the record, these convos were both in the same day. In fact, within the same hour. Lucky me, right?

I will say that when the day comes that D1 sits down and explains some of these facts of life, I might include myself in that discussion. Not so much to be a contributor but more a supervisor. Now, don’t get me wrong. D1 is THE best daddy. All three of these boys adore him. However, though he’s almost 33 years old, D1’s maturity level hasn’t quite caught up with his true age. And although I would say that he’ll be responsible for what advice or information he communicates, it will inevitably be ME that ends up in the grocery store with them, ALONE, when they decide to shout out their highly inappropriate knowledge. And it will happen.

Yes, that day described above was full of shock and stupor on my part. I knew it wouldn't be long before I would have to face these types of situations but somethings you just can’t quite prepare for. This was one of them, especially the latter.

So, not only was d2 asked to not draw any more naked people followed by questions that I could not answer but then we didn’t even dress him right for his first soccer practice. How was I supposed to know the shin guards go under the socks?




I think he's still a little hacked about art time being censored....

I Want What I Want When I Want It

According to my dear, sweet spouse, yesterday’s post was about ‘nothing’ so I guess that’s my cue to step up my game and write about ‘something.’ Good news – I didn’t have to think too hard.

OK, so back it up. As I was preparing for my weekly bible study lesson, I was overcome with serious conviction as we study anxiety, fear and, most of all, discontentment. It’s so relevant in my daily life and I have a hunch that I’m not alone. There's a funny thing about conviction. It's not always an easy pill to swallow but it’s actually pretty comforting. You see, if I were not feeling convicted by my sinful actions, committed on a DAILY basis, I might start to wonder about my salvation because if the Spirit resides in you, you will feel it when you gossip, worry and doubt. Yes, we are human but these are still sins. I’m learning all about them in my bible study with some of the greatest group of girlies. Oh, and with a little help from Jerry Bridges' book titled, 'Respectable Sins.' Trust me, it’s not like I open a chapter and think, ‘Oh, YES! I can totally relate.’ It’s more like, ‘Oh, NO! I am so guilty of this, that and the other.’ What’s important is that we’re learning from each other and working on ways to make changes in our actions and behaviors that will set good examples for our children but, more importantly, to glorify Jesus. I want nothing more than to be a shining light but I’ve definitely got some work to do.

Although I’ve been able to identify with every ‘respectable sin’ thus far, this week’s topic of discontentment is very near and un-dear to my heart. It’s really sad at how I struggle to be content. I really have to pray about it and some days I feel like throwing the towel in and waving the white flag. Although I could probably name several, there are two areas in particular that I wrestle the most – my identity and my family.

I think I beat the topic of self esteem/worth/confidence to death so allow me to share the family issues. Within that family category, I have two sub-categories {us Type-A’s need lists and outlines} – I long for {normal} parents and I long for a baby girl. With all that I have been abundantly blessed with, I’m ashamed to even admit these yearnings but I’m guessing I’m not alone and to share them helps me to face them.

Though my testimony gave lots of background on my parents, I didn’t discuss the present situation. It’s not great. It’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s still strained and distant, at best. I haven’t seen my mother in almost 10 years. We speak on the phone maybe four times a year. She’s never met our boys and I’m not sure she ever will. Sure, I would like to have a relationship with her for myself but, more than that, I want it for my children. I see other kids with their grandparents, the loving relationships they have and the cherished memories they are creating and I hurt for what my boys will likely never experience with my mother. Now, I have forgiven my mother, several years ago actually. That's not a problem anymore. I don’t harbor anger towards her at all. I just hurt. I just want to be content with what I have.

Maybe that’s a big reason why I long for a little girl. A good friend once told me that I needed a little girl to realize that not all mother/daughter relationships are like my childhood was and I think she’s right. I just wish the feeling would go away. Now, I had three extremely easy pregnancies that yielded three healthy, incredibly vibrant little boys and I do not ever take any of that for granted. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about the little girl that I never had. It’s not impossible for us to have more children but last time I checked, God still controls gender selection and His will doesn’t seem to be in alignment with mine. I know there’s a reason for that. I know there is. I’m sure He knows that D1 might beat a girl for trying to escape with the word ‘Juicy’ on the booty of her short-shorts. Maybe He’s thinking of how awful that poor child’s hair would look when I attempt to braid it....or even insert a barrette, for that matter. Maybe He's sparing us both. I know full well that all babies are a blessing, that I’ve got enough disorder in my house for the next 18 years and I don’t know that there’s a burning desire to further that timeline. I just want to be content with what I have.

From this chapter, though, I've learned that contentment comes from 'accept(ing) your circumstances from God,’ trusting that He knows what is best for you. He also goes on to share a quote:

Lord, I am willing to –
Receive what you give
Lack what you withhold
Relinquish what you take

Short and sweet yet heavy and deep. And absolutely perfect. Here’s to receiving, lacking and relinquishing together…..

Secrets & Admissions

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m blogging on the couch. Perhaps you’re thinking, ‘So? What’s the big deal?’ but I’m bragging because this doesn’t happen very often. In fact, this NEVER happens but after our nap today, D1 offered to take the boys out for a few hours to give me some quiet time. Awesome, right? Now, my Sunday routine is pretty much the same – nap, laundry, cooking, laundry, baths, laundry, bed – yes, truly exciting. Try not to envy me too much. And I imagine D1’s intent was to give me quiet time to do all of these tasks but without the added stress of refereeing and disciplining that come with the kids being here. For this, I am extremely grateful. It’s so peaceful to load the dishwasher, sweep the floor and clean the poop off the toilet seats to the beat of Chris Tomlin as opposed to the screams courtesy of a biting toddler. {Side note – though we’ve managed to avoid the yellow ring around the base of the toilets lately, why is it that I have to carry a Lysol wipe with me each time I need to use the bathroom? It’s just not right. A public restroom? Expected. My own commode? Not cool. } So to my husband – thank you for speaking my love language and sparing me the headache! Unfortunately, I didn’t get near as much accomplished. I felt like I needed to seize the moment of peace and just relax. Turns out my definition of relax does not include folding Diego undies so here I am on the couch……

I bet some of you are wondering about that nap comment above. Or maybe you’re not. Either way, here’s one of our family secrets. We do have family naps every Saturday and Sunday afternoon and it is something I very much look forward to. I think our success comes from us actually napping with the boys. Now, maybe you’re someone that would just like to have that extra hour of cleaning or clearing the DVR while they sleep. Not me. I like sleep. I desire to have more of it. And although I cherish the actual slumbering, the truly special part for us is the one-on-one time we get with the boy we’re napping with. In a family of multiple children, that alone time is not easy to come by but this is one way we have kept it going. Granted, it’s not in their Top 10 Weekend Highlights but I think they realize it’s not going to change so they might as well save their breath and deal.

This week our family schedule returns to the ‘slammed’ position as d2 begins soccer practice. I’ll admit that as I was writing our week’s activities out on the dry-erase board on the fridge, a part of me wanted to cry, stomp and whine but then I remember that these days won’t last forever. I hear it all the time from parents of grown children and I do believe I will miss this phase. Sometimes I want to scream, 'Oh really? When?' but I really am trying to remember that this doesn't last forever. I also know that we could say ‘no’ more than we do but I feel like our priorities are in the right place and that what we’re busy doing are worthwhile and beneficial. The fact that I work full-time is a choice we decided was best for our family and, though it’s tough juggling, I refuse to let my boys miss out on anything because of my decisions. At least until next year when d3 starts t-ball. You know, since three boys and two parents creates a bit of a logistical problem. Maybe d3 will settle for being a cheerleader instead of a ball player. What? Don't judge. I'm sure I could find him a ‘manly’ outfit….

Speaking of ball players, here’s my posse before a friend’s baseball birthday party. Maybe pictures like this will pass as d3's t-ball days. I mean, does he really need to be on a team to call himself a t-ball player? It's a matter of opinion but he sure does make a cute little slugger....

An Inside Look at Family Time....

Between their fidgets, giggles and fights, it's hard to say whether they actually absorbed any of the content. And how about d3's toy? Apparently he is developing a love for the weapons, too. Fabulous.

A Life Lesson

Spring has sprung in the South! The pear trees are stunning in all their white glory, the days are longer, and the warm weather is a natural mood lifter. Now, the negative, glass-half-empty part of me could focus on how the blooming trees stink smell like a mixture of antifreeze and dead sardines. I could complain that longer daylight means more backyard baseball, and for me it means sweaty pits and strained hammies. I could also remember how last year's scorching temps put our power bill through the roof. I could choose that line of thinking. However, I refuse to dwell on anything but that of which brings JOY. For today, I choose JOY.

Unfortunately, that was not my motto yesterday. I don’t know what my problem was but I was just unpleasant. Plain and simple. Right before bed, I told D1 that I was in a 'funk.' When I’m in a mood like that, I’m just not nice. And since we had the windows open to allow the pollen fresh air in and I just happen to have a voice that 'carries', the entire neighborhood was treated to my snippity words. Several times, D1 called me on it {which further escalated said miffed mood}. PSA – there’s a house for sale behind us – who wants to buy it? I promise I’ll close the windows when I want to groan and grumble.

Gosh, it seemed like I was going somewhere with this. Oh. Right. Yesterday. So, because of such nice weather, the boys were outside the entire afternoon. There are two little boys in our neighborhood that often come over and want to play. All is fine until another little boy, an older one, comes around. Yesterday we witnessed this older boy treating d1, and ONLY d1, unfairly. It wasn’t physical and there’s really no need to go into details. It bothered us more than him but it’s not easy to watch your child be mistreated. Now, it's no secret that d1 isn’t always the best ‘friend.’ He’s Mr. Bossy-Boss, he runs his mouth far too much and prefers things done a certain way – HIS way. If I’m being honest, there might even be a small, itsy-bitsy part of me that thinks maybe he deserves a taste of his own medicine. Apparently I did not feel that way yesterday. We told our boys to come in the house and told the friends they needed to go on home. Now don’t hear what I’m not saying. We were not harsh to these neighbor boys {although the voices in my head might have had a few additional words but they remained unspoken}. When d1 came in, he was obviously upset and confused. He wasn’t doing anything wrong so why did he have to come in? When we explained to him why and how we didn’t think he should play with kids that treat him like that, what he said was simple but significant. He said, ‘But I don’t care. They’re my friends.’ On the surface, it's just a child pleading to go outside a little longer but it resonated a bit longer in me and truly stung. I knew right then that we had handled the situation entirely the wrong way. We can read about it all day long in stories from 2,000 years ago but when it's right there in your home, it's very real and painful. Not only were we setting the wrong example for our boys, we were advising them to turn from ‘those’ kids. Matthew 5:38-42 tells us to ‘not resist an evil person…..’ This is the simple, ‘Love your neighbor’ lesson and we’re essentially telling them to do the opposite. Shame on us.

This morning D1 sat d1 down at breakfast and explained to him that Mommy and Daddy were wrong. He explained to him that, although his friends were not treating him kindly, we should pray for them and show them love through our words and actions. After all, we don’t know their hearts. What if these are opportunities for our children to witness to these other little boys, to demonstrate the love of Jesus during playtime? What if they’ve never heard the Good News? {Which, PS, is quite possible - not all Greenville County schools allow 'The Good News Club' in their schools and that is LUDICROUS but that's another topic for another day. I might be ready to organize a protest....} My point is that the playground could absolutely be their own little mission field. Envision that. Are you smiling? Because I am.

I’ll admit that, at first, D1 felt more convicted about this than I did. Yes, I knew it was wrong but in my selfish little mind, I justified it. After all, I was only protecting my child. Isn't that what a mother does? We birth, feed, bathe and protect.....and then some. I'm not saying that I think protecting my child was wrong but 1) we approached it entirely the wrong way and 2) I can’t always be there when that happens again and it will happen again. What I can do is work every day to equip him with the right tools to handle these situations, instead of teaching him to run away from them. These are the situations I should be praying to happen, just so I have the opportunity to teach. Instead, what should have been a relevant life lesson on forgiveness and prayer ended up a poor example of hypocrisy and bitterness.

I also think my faith was tested and I received a big, fat (F)ail. When my child is hurt, I hurt. I want to fix it. I want to hurt the one that hurt mine and that’s human. This is where I’ve got to stand on my faith. I’ve got to practice what I preach. There is nothing Christ-like about retaliation. We are called to be set apart, to walk the narrow path and have faith that God will comfort and protect us. We sing, ‘If our God is with us, then what can stand against?’ and I believe it but are my actions reflecting that belief? Uh, negative.

True, in the end, we {fine, D1} were able to salvage this moment and turn it into a teachable one for the kids but one thing is for sure. d1 taught us a lesson without even knowing it. When he said, ‘I don’t care. They’re my friends,’ I believe that’s what Jesus says about us. Everytime we sin, which is a daily struggle for me, He doesn’t turn his back on us, just like we don't turn our back on our children. I believe he says, ‘You are forgiven – yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever. Now, let’s work on that problem together.’

Hodge Podge

One day I might start posting pictures again but I’ve taken very few in the last month and, to be honest, I can’t locate the camera. My only hope is that it wasn’t disposed of in the trash. That might sound a little bizarre but, lately, we are losing things at a much faster rate than ever before and I think it’s safe to say that instead of playing in the toilet, d3’s new hobby is finding things that are important to Mommy and Daddy and putting them in the trash. Now, the camera would have been hard to get away with so I am still hopeful that he just hid it from us but the remote to our ceiling fan is a bit smaller and has been missing a good two weeks now. I’m fairly certain it’s been smashed to smithereens at the landfill and the fan will now be but a mere piece of non-functional decor. Yes, I can buy a replacement but hello? Those things are not cheap but I am.

OK, so no pictures. We’ve established the rationale behind that. Let’s move on. I haven’t really given ‘updates’ to what we’re doing these days and, since we do have so much family and friends out of state, this is a good place to log it so that they can keep up with the comings and goings of the crazies.

d1 is nearing the end of first grade. Academically, he’s rocking it out. We couldn’t be more pleased. Behaviorally, he still struggles with talking – out of turn, at extreme decibel levels, etc. I don’t tell him this but I’ll tell you this – I had the √ rather than the + in those areas until, probably, middle school. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut to save my life. Oh, and he’s still the class tattler. That must be from his dad’s side. I mean, I was chatty-chatter but I wasn’t about to throw a friend under the bus. I had standards, after all. d1 finished basketball and has already jumped right into baseball {with dad as coach again}. Yay for baseball games with a restless, mobile toddler who, even with snacks, refuses to let me watch a full inning and only wants to be on the field. Yay.

On the way to school today, we had this conversation:

d1 – Walker’s mom has a Smart car.
Me – Oh. What’s a Smart car?
d1 – {irritated sigh} It’s a car that’s very smart, Mommy. {insert eye roll} DUH!

I can see that sarcastic discussions are in our future with this one. Oh, how I look forward to those. I only wish I knew where he learned that repugnant style of communicating….

d1 is also recovering from a bout of strep throat. Thankfully, we have been able to avoid the nasty flu and all the other funk that has been going around but it got one of our ‘men’ this week and he was out of school one day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his sickness just a little bit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have healthy children and know that we have much to be thankful for but when they’re sick, particularly d1, the household in general just runs so much smoother. His little lethargic body just doesn’t have the energy to torment his younger brothers or to argue incessantly over NOTHING. And getting him to sit still for longer stretches is so refreshing. Oh and such a sweet boy when he’s sick. It’s almost like he’s lost the ability to be hateful and selfish. He’ll say things like, ‘Mommy, you look so pretty today.’ So what if it’s followed by, ‘…..can you get me some juice?’ Kind words from his lips can be hard to come by. I’m not opposed to verbal manipulation.

d2 is finishing up his last year in preschool. I actually just ordered his preschool graduation t-shirt today. It’s hard to believe that little guy is heading to ‘big school’ very soon. Today he received a treat from his most-awesome teacher because he counted to 100 in class. According to my husband-teacher, this is a kindergarten standard so he’s already ahead of the game. I’m proud but not surprised. This one is going to be a studious little thing. He already asks some pretty deep questions {he can usually squeeze in 20-22 on average in the morning commute, maybe more if he had a shot of apple juice before leaving home} and it’s obvious he ponders the answer for a while. I am excited to see what K-5 brings for him. He’s done with basketball and starts soccer in a couple of weeks. Our first soccer player in the family…….

As I mentioned before, d3 stays busy wrecking the house. Besides eating ridiculously large, adult-sized portions at every meal, destruction is what he does best. Fortunately, I’ve reached the ‘I just don’t care’ juncture in my life where cleanliness is concerned. It’s taken seven years, three filthy children and one slovenly husband but, unless we’re having guests, I just let it be. I never thought I’d get to this point but I’m here and it feels surprisingly good. He loves when we read to him. As of late, his vocabulary now includes, 'Ah, man,' 'Amen,' and 'okay,' though we're still working on comprehension. When I tell him not to hit his brother with the spatula, he'll say okay but walk right over and do the very thing I told him not to do. We are coming up on his 2nd birthday next month. I’ll admit. Every now and then, I feel a small surge of sadness that my baby is growing up but then he’ll have an explosive diaper or toss his plate of tacos on the carpet and, just as quickly as it came, that surge is gone.

The Main Thing

Sundays have become my favorite day of the week. Not only is it a day to spend with my family but I also get to spend it in God’s house with friends and loved ones. Now, that’s not to say that it’s all peaches and petunias. It does require some planning on our my part to make sure that clothes are clean and laid out, breakfast options are express-style and I have enough suckers in my purse to keep d1 mute during the worship service. Those are the struggles of today, really just minor details.

Not so long ago, though, my struggle was of a deeper nature. I wasn’t so sure I belonged in church. I had so many skeletons in my closet that I didn’t understand how I could possibly be accepted among any church body because certainly they couldn’t relate. Man how wrong I was. The first church we attended, and were later baptized in, accepted everyone. Though it was of the Baptist denomination, it didn’t matter who you were, where you came from, what you were dressed in or why you chose to show up. They made that very clear and, because of that, I felt welcome. I often wonder what my life might be like today if that church hadn’t graciously opened their arms to sinners like me. Would I still be lost? This is significant so pay attention.

And now is where it gets uncomfortable. You may not like what I have to say and if it gets to be too much, just remember that little black ‘X’ at the top right-hand corner of the page, though I do hope you’ll stick it out and see where I’m going.

Though I don’t expect the church we’re in now to be exactly the same as that of the church we once were a part of, I do expect the same purpose. These days, I’m not so sure. These days, I’m seeing many church members chucking complaints all over the place. The sanctuary was too hot, the preacher didn’t wear a tie, the music was too long/loud, the church schedule doesn’t fit my schedule……and the list goes on. Maybe this is just for my own personal reflection but here are my thoughts:

• If the temperature isn’t right, good news! The service doesn’t last 10 hours. Before long, you’ll be home and back to your perfect bubble in no time.

• If the preacher didn’t wear a tie and it peeves you, good news! It doesn’t affect the message and that’s all that matters.

• If the music isn’t your style or the church schedule doesn’t fit your family schedule, good news! We have three services to fit all styles. Choose another. No one knows better than me that changing a schedule with small children is not easy. However, it’s one day a week and, to me, Jesus is worth it.

These are true grievances that I have heard firsthand, some I may have even felt here or there but I am now overwhelmed with conviction. I’m not writing this to hurt anyone but if it does, I’m sorry. I’ve never been good at keeping my opinion to myself. I see no reason to start now.

So why is this weighing so heavily? For me, it's easy. I know where my salvation lies. I know that if I die today, I will spend eternity in heaven. Therefore, I come to church to worship the God that loves me. I come to church to serve the God that provides for me. I really try to be cognizant of the fact that, though every little element of my church may not be perfect, it’s not all about me. Did you hear that? IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT US. We need to keep the main thing the main thing. Yes, changes are being made but these are not ungodly changes. In fact, it’s just the opposite. Our church is seeking God’s will. We are seeking to reach and save the lost, those that will go straight to hell if someone does not share Jesus with them. Maybe things aren't 'how they've always been' but the world is not the same as it was 50 years ago, either. Paul tells the Colossian church that ‘Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving Christ.’ {Colossians 3:22-24}

If it weren’t for the contemporary praise and preaching styles, I may never have stepped foot into that first church where I was saved, baptized and forever changed. Because that church had an eternal perspective and a love for the lost, I was rescued. Today, if we reach just one person in all our many uncomfortable changes, we have glorified God.

I would like to think one life, my life, was worth it.

Accountability and a Story

After posting earlier this week on my own personal spiritual warfare, I’ve re-read the message a few times. Naturally, the compulsive, neurotic, spelling-and-grammar checking fiend that I am found usage errors here and there as well as areas that I thought, ‘Huh, I could have said this instead of that’ but what I really question is why I selected to memorize three in my verse commitment. I honestly gave no thought to it at the time. Maybe because it’s the number of children I have. That is an obvious explanation. Or perhaps it’s because I was eating cookie #3 {of 6} at the time of my cyber-babbling. And let’s not forget that my Type-A nature also thrives on even numbers so that further confuses me as to why I chose three verses as opposed to two or four. {Note: my desire to have even numbers does not apply to my reproductive role so don’t start any rumors.} After diving in and examining the Word, I think I know why. Though there are hundreds of verses that are applicable to this particular season in my life, there were three that really stuck. I also think God knows my brain is at maximum capacity and, most days, running on fumes from all the disorder that raising three boys brings so this is probably all I can handle right now.

And there you have it. Deep, I know. Were you expecting some profound revelation? You shouldn't have. I’m a simpleton. And because I am a simpleton {is that even a word because it’s not receiving a red squiggly that would indicate otherwise?}, I don’t need or want complex. I need straight forward which is why my chosen verses below are in the NLT version. To me, New Living Translation also means No Large Text.

*Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. - Isaiah 41:10

Now that’s easy to comprehend but how many times a day do we get discouraged and so easily forget? Oh, just every other minute…..


*But the LORD said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The LORD doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” - 1 Samuel 16:7

People judge by the outside, the Lord looks at the inside. Got it.


*The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life. – John 10:10

I think this is my favorite. Satan’s purpose is to harm, yet God desires a rich life for me. End of story.


I wholeheartedly believe that not only learning these verses but BELIEVING in them is going to strengthen me in all areas of my life but I also want to share one last thing. Just today, I had a great friend tell me the story about Moses and the battle with the Amalekites, specifically with how it pertains to the topic of insecurity. You see, as long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses grew tired, Aaron and Hur held his hands up for him and, thus, Israel defeated the Amalekites. I had never heard this story before or, if I had, I didn’t understand it the way I do now but I find it so relevant here. We can’t do this alone. Everyday life wears us down and we need to lean on others to fight for us, to pray for us. In order for this to happen, we have to be willing to open up, admit when we’re drowning and seek reinforcements. We need to be able to lean on others that will hold our hands up when we are just too weak and weary. I, for one, am going to work on that. So ladies {and gents…..}, swallow that pride and let others lift you up. After all, we are human and, contrary to the beliefs of a certain celebrity ‘rockstar,’ we are not all invincible and filled with ‘tiger blood.’ {Sorry, that was ugly but I couldn’t resist. In all seriousness, that man needs intense prayer, not another round of interviews.}

{Just for fun, I did Google ‘Type A personality’ and the results were a little startling. According to Wikipedia, ‘the theory describes a Type A individual as ambitious, aggressive, business-like, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with his or her status, time-conscious, and tightly-wound. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence.’

Pfft. They say aggressive like it’s a bad thing. I also happen to think that multi-tasking is a very admirable trait and absolutely vital in a house of anarchy.

Golly Pete, I expected to identify with a few of the qualities but not all of them……}

Voice Of Truth

If we were to meet on the street for the first time, would you consider me a confident, poised individual? I’m struggling with this lately and I don’t know why. OK, ‘lately’ isn’t an accurate statement – I’ve always had problems with self-confidence, for as long as I can remember. When I tell my friends this, they are surprised by my confession but it’s 100% true. I guess I just put on a good front because, inside, I find myself second guessing everything. Honestly, I have these insecurity issues in every area of my life. I also know that this is Satan trying to tear me down so it's time to {wo}MAN up and fight back.

Here are some examples. Some I’m a little embarrassed to admit but there's very little I won't share {I think my testimony established that much} so why shouldn't I give you some reasons to laugh at me on this second day of March? The following are actual conversations that the voices in my head express on any given day.


On Self-Image –

*Why won’t my hair cooperate? People probably think I just rolled out of the bed with this mess. And the hair color…..lawd, it's never going to be the same…..

*Acne at 30? Really? This is repulsive. I wonder if the bank teller is talking to me or the band of blackhead brothers on my nose today.

*Maybe I should’ve worn the boots instead of the pumps today. Of course I should have. And why did I even choose this shirt in the first place? I know better - this shade of red was not meant for this pale person.

On Parenting –

*Am I feeding them too much processed junk? Should I be worried that they may not get their daily recommended 50,000 mg of vitamin C? Are they supposed to have this much gas? Maybe they have Crohn's disease?

*Will they end up aggressive ninjas because we let them watch Kung Fu Panda and The Karate Kid? Am I causing permanent damage when I tell them that peeing in the tub will cause a worm to grow in their belly and result in a trip to the ER that ends with a large needle in their left buttocks? {I’m at my wits end with this one - it keeps happening and d3 insists on drinking since he hasn’t a clue. For all he knows, he’s sitting in a tub full of lemonade and it’s free refill Friday}.


On the Job –

* Did I give my boss what he was looking for on that project? Perhaps he was looking for more detailed analysis. He hasn’t emailed me back since I sent the file 3.5 minutes ago so it must be wrong.

*Will I ever be ready for a promotion? Would I be a good manager? Do I communicate effectively? I will probably retire in this position.


On Marriage –

*Do I really make my husband happy? Sometimes I can be so moody. He probably wishes he had married someone else. Maybe I should have made cube steaks last night instead of weinerwinks. He loves cube steaks.

*Will we still have something to talk about in 18 years when the house is empty? Will we always laugh this much? What if he finds it amusing to hide my dentures and Depends from me when we're old?


Now, some of these are funny albeit absurd but why am I even thinking this junk? Why do I let it consume my thoughts? I even did a bible study with some girls on this topic. It was a great book but clearly I had more issues than we had time to fix in the 8 week study. I even find myself telling others to not worry about situations, even shooting them Scripture references to Psalms and Philippians, all while internally agonizing over trivial details. I see a similar trait in d1, who has a tendency to worry. True, most of his worries revolve around what his next meal will consist of or what ‘fun thing’ we’re going to do for him {I really believe he thinks our sole purpose on this Earth is to entertain him!} but I am constantly telling him to ‘not worry about it’ and yet his mother is the Queen of Concern. Maybe it’s that control freak in me but that’s just a lame excuse for a lack of faith. And I'm not a fan of excuses so there it is. I am making a personal commitment to memorize three verses this week. Read them, recite them, pray them. Every time one of those outlandish thoughts creeps into my mind, I’m going to shout out Scripture. I might even break out some 'Voice of Truth' lyrics. If you run into me in the grocery store and I’m hollerin' out the Word, just smile and wave. And laugh, of course. At least you’ll know what I'm doing. I’m busy putting Satan in the ground, courtesy of 2 Corinthians.