They Make Me Laugh

We've spent this weekend just being together and relaxing at the house. We had my mom in town last weekend for a much needed visit, and the kids started back to school after the fall break so it's been nice taking it easy. I haven't seen my mom since June and I'm pretty sure that's the longest I've gone without seeing her since 1998 when we lived in Carlsbad, NM. It was fun going shopping and catching up with her.

She was here during fall break, so I took advantage of her being here and scheduled an appointment for Nathan to have a check up at the pediatrician for his ADHD, knowing that Mama would stay home with Grace. I took him Thursday and after the nurse weighed him and checked his height, he needed to go to the bathroom. I waited outside the door for him so I could show him to the correct exam room. As he opened the door, I realized that I had not heard either one of the following:

• a toilet flushing
  
• water running in the sink

I think my exact words were, "Seriously son? You didn't flush OR wash your hands?", but we'll just say for the sake of argument that I gently reminded him to return to the bathroom and finish up properly. He turned to me and said, "But the sign says not to." I followed him into the bathroom and he pointed to the sign and read, "Please do not flush tampons." I almost choked as I tried to hold in my laughter, because not only was the situation funny, but he mispronounced it as tam-puns. I just told him to go ahead and wash his hands and I would flush for him.

The very next day I brought Gracie in to the doctor because of a cough she had been fighting for a few weeks, and she had her chance to make me choke back my laughter. The nurse had finished taking her vitals and recording it all in the computer, and she was leaving the room to get the doctor. Gracie called out, "Excuse me. Could you please tell the doctor that I don't need any shots?" The nurse and I just looked at each other, our laughter threatening to burst out as she promised to tell the MD.

It turns out that she had a sinus infection that required an antibiotic, but no shots.

The laughs? They just keep on coming here at the crazy house.

We also went up to Skiatook Lake the Sunday before Mama left to see the changing leaves and to let the kids get in some tree climbing time. It was just beautiful and we had a great time walking around and enjoying the view. When I see such beauty in nature I can't help but see God in creation. How can anyone see the leaves change, the stillness of a lake or the grandeur of the mountains and not see God? The Bible says we can't.

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.

There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is hidden from its heat.
Psalm 19:1-6

The next time you see a sunset or a stunning vista, or just the simple beauty of rain falling on your yard, thank God for His providence and for showing His glory to us every day.

Bridging the Gap

This has been a wonderful evening. Trevor's paternal grandmother has been visiting for about a week now, and we asked the family over for dinner tonight. I was off with the kids today, so it was no problem for me to cook dinner for everyone. I made a roasted pork loin, smoked Gouda potatoes Au gratin, green beans, butter beans and biscuits. I also had some fresh tomatoes that a patient gave me from his garden as well as fresh cucumbers.

Everyone enjoyed dinner as well as the Texas sheet cake I made for dessert. If I had been asked 6 weeks ago if I would truly enjoy spending an evening with my in laws, I would have responded very negatively. It would have been an evening to be suffered through and the source of stress and tension.

Enter God.

Trevor and I had noticed a growing distance between us and his parents for several years. Because of the distance, we took every single thing they did far more personally than we should have. We could never seem to bridge the gap between us, and it was causing serious problems with our relationship. My heart broke to see Trevor feeling so angry and hurt, and it made me angry that my children were not able to have a relationship with their grandparents.

Without rehashing things that make no difference now, we were barely on speaking terms with them. The straw that broke the camel's back came several months ago, and we had roughly 2 conversations with them since that incident. Looking back, I'm sure that they were not even aware that they had done anything to offend, thanks to our passive-aggressive approach.

We knew that something had to give. We knew that we could not continue on like we had been and still be walking the Christian walk. We knew that Trevor had to have a conversation with his parents, and we felt sure that it would not be easy or well received.

Lucky for me, we have what we call "The In-law Rule" in our family. This means that in laws are not responsible for having deep conversations about behavior or any other topic that might cause stress and tension. Those conversations are the responsibility of the natural child and other siblings if necessary. I had a conversation with my own father several years ago about some things that were bothering me, and Trevor and Ronna were outside the entire time. Patrick was the one who stayed with me for support.

So Trevor went out to their house a few Sunday afternoons ago. As soon as he left the house, I called Mama and Daddy and Amber and David. Patrick and Ronna already knew his plans, and were praying for him. I sat down in my arm chair and began to pray. I prayed that God would give him the right words to heal the relationship and to show them the depth of his pain and resentment. I prayed that they would be receptive to what he had to say and that the conversation would not be bitter.

As I prayed for Trevor, I also began to realize that I needed to pray for him to have an open mind himself. I prayed that he would be open to whatever response they had to him and that he would be gracious and forgiving. I prayed that God would have His hand over Trevor for the entire visit.

Praise God, He answers prayers! When Trevor got home 3 1/2 hours later, he was all smiles and had so much to tell me. His parents listened to what he had to say, and they had some things to get off their chests as well. They covered every single topic that had bothered Trevor, and they didn't hold anything back. They spoke to each other like loving adults, and were all willing to look at things objectively.

The bottom line was that pretty much all of our issues were due to miscommunication. Each time one of us was misunderstood, the gap widened between us until it became impossible to cross alone. I am convinced that God bridged the gap for my husband and his parents that Sunday. He made it possible to heal a relationship that I had all but given up on. That just goes to show how much I know! With God, anything is possible.

Anything.

So, because of that beautiful reconciliation, we have been spending a lot of time with his family. Not just spending time with them, but truly enjoying ourselves with them. We've been able to let down the defensive wall that we had built around ourselves and get to know them all over again.

These are some pictures from Saturday. We had a fish fry out at their house and had a wonderful time. I just wish I had taken some pictures of all the Canasta playing that was going on!!

She's Just Like Me

Trevor made a comment this past Friday that really got me thinking about my personality. I have to begin by giving some background, so that you will understand what he meant.

Friday afternoon, the kids and I pulled up into the driveway and I turned off the engine. I got out to go around to Gracie's door so I could get her unbuckled, and noticed that Nathan had gone around the back, opened her door and was trying to help her out. I say trying, because she was screaming at him to stop touching her and generally being unreasonable. I made her calm down and let Nathan help her, and then thanked Nathan for being so helpful. I turned to Gracie and told her to tell Nathan thank you for his help.

She pressed her lips together and glared at me. Sigh. For the hundredth time in 2 weeks, we had this conversation:

Xandra: "What happens when you don't obey Mommy?"

Grace: "I get a spanking."

Xandra: "So would you rather obey Mommy and tell Nathan thank you, or would you rather get a spanking for being disobedient?"

Grace: "Say thank you."

Great! Problem solved and we moved on. We tackled disobedience and manners in the same lesson. Too bad it didn't actually work out that way. When it came to actually saying thank you, it was quite problematic. She pressed her lips together and glared at me. When after some prompting she still refused to speak, I followed through and gave her a swat. I then instructed her to go tell Nathan thank you.

Again, the pressed lips and the glaring. We had the above conversation again, and she made the same choice. And we went through the same thing, again. Two swats, and no "thank you."

People, she took three spankings and when she finally said thank you it was barely intelligible. So much for absorbing the lesson on politeness. I sat her on my lap and held her for a bit and told her that I loved her, and all was well with the world.

Until later.

I actually can't remember why we were going through the cycle of conversation, choices and discipline, but Trevor was home by then. After it was over, I told him about the earlier incident, and he said, "She's just like you."

At first, I dismissed it as joking about how stubborn I am, but then I realized that he had a point. It is true that I am stubborn, particularly when I think I'm right. But what he was talking about was my pathological hatred of being told what to do. For example, if Trevor and I are wrestling and he has me down he will tell me to say uncle. I would rather have my finger snapped off than to give in. Maybe it's because I had a big brother. Who knows?

But that is the spirit in which Gracie is disobedient. It's not that the thing we are asking her to do is beyond her or even distasteful. It's the fact that it's not her idea and so she does not want to do it. That's when I started thinking about this shared personality trait in terms of my relationship with God. Sometime I don't want to be obedient out of pure obstinancy. Just like Gracie misses the blessing of harmony with her family when she disobeys Trevor and me, I miss the blessing of being in communion with the Father. I go through discipline and refining when I choose disobedience.

But when I finally let go of my will, and submit to God's, the homecoming is so sweet. Love and forgiveness wash over me as I confess and repent of my sin. I (foolishly) vow to never disappoint my Father again and, at the time, truly mean it. But inevitably the cycle begins again, and I find myself on my knees confessing and repenting. But here's the kicker:

He is faithful to forgive my sins and welcome me back with open arms.

Every time.

As much as I love Gracie and only want good things for her; and would never turn her away, how much more does my Father in heaven love me? When I fall away in sin and disobedience, I have the sweet assurance that my Father in heaven will never turn me away either.

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us. 1 John 1:8-10.

To Die is Gain

"For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain." We all understand how (and hopefully strive) to fulfill the first part of this verse. As regenerate Christians, we strive to live our lives in a way that is pleasing to God. We weigh our decisions against the yardstick of scripture and the perfect example set for us by Christ.

But what does the second part of that verse mean? To die is gain. Dying to sin? Certainly that is one meaning. If we are to even try to be Christlike, we must die to our sinful nature and be truly reborn. It's not a matter of fixing our old life, it's a rebirth into a completely new one. One that is marked by our obedience and submission to the Father.

But "to die is gain" means something else as well. Out lives should be completely focused on the eternal implications of death when the end comes. This earth is completely temporal. The only thing that matters in this life is our obedience to God and our desire to glorify Him by being witnesses of His majesty and grace so that we may be used by the Holy Spirit to affect the eternal fate of those around us. Everything else is just dust in the wind. Our stuff, our jobs, even our relationships with those we love, all come in second to the command to love and obey God. We should be anxiously awaiting the time God has appointed for our deaths. We are assured of an inheritance far beyond the imagination and scope of man.

However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him."

I Corinthians 2:9

Even the apostle Paul was torn between being used by God during his time here on earth, and the ultimate joy of dying and being with Christ forever.

For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.

Philippians 1:21-23

So while we are here, let's make a difference. Comfort the hurting, love the unlovely and bring the truth of the gospel to every person God places in our path. Let's die to the world and remember that our earthly death is simply a stepping stone to the glorious, eternal future of praising God forever. Let's be so filled with the Spirit that we long for death, in the sense that we will finally see our Saviour face to face.

Sixteen Years

I was at Uncle Tellius' house for a New Year's Eve celebration. We had built a bonfire in the backyard, and had marshmallows on hand for toasting once a bed of coals had been established. My neck was still a little sore from the lymph node biopsy done on the 23rd, but I was 19 years old, and at that age, even surgery can't keep you down long.

Mama and Daddy were at Granny and Gramps' house when they got the call from the surgeon. I have no idea what transpired between the time of the call and the time it took them to get to me, but now that I am a parent it must have been excruciating.

Cancer.

An unthinkable diagnosis for your child, yet there it was. If you want to read the whole story, go here. My point today is that it has been 16 years since that New Year's Eve when my life was turned upside down and inside out. If I had been diagnosed 15 years before, my prognosis would have been grim. Although the treatment was not exactly a walk in the park, it saved my life.

I have had sixteen additional years to get an education, get married and have two beautiful children. I have been blessed beyond measure to simply live, and everything else is just extra. My life has been filled with joy, sorrow, love and disappointment. All of the things that each and every person experiences at some point in life, but the difference is my perspective. I think that any person who is faced with their mortality, by whatever means, is changed in an very primal way.

For some, like me, it is for the better. I have an appreciation for life that has nothing to do with how much stuff I have or how many friends surround me. I appreciate my life simply because I am alive. Each breath is a gift and although I wish I could say that I have not wasted a bit of time on things that are unimportant, I can't. Understanding how vaporous our lives really are in the grand scheme of things, doesn't change the fact that I am a human being with vices and unlovely personality traits. But when the time comes to choose stuff over relationships or job over family, the choice is simple and easy for me.

Beginning on December 31, 1991, my life became a gift. Each moment to be cherished and savored. The things in my life seem so much sweeter, especially knowing that it was God's sovereign will that designed my life this way. Although I couldn't have known the path it would take, He intended my life to be what it is.

So today I thank God for the sixteen years of grace that He granted to me, and I pray that whether the time I have left is short or long that He will be pleased with my life.

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

The Nativity Story

The other night, we realized that we couldn't hear Gracie which usually translates into water on the bathroom floor or markers being used on an inappropriate surface. I called her name to see where she was, only to discover that she was sitting right behind me at the counter. (Let's not even get started on the fact that I was too lazy to turn around in my comfy chair to do a visual sweep of the living area before I called out for her)

I asked her what she was doing (still not turning around to see for myself), and she replied:

"Playing with God."

That got me turned around in my chair pretty quickly! I turned to see her quietly playing with the childrens Nativity that I have out for them. After I finished laughing (quietly) into my pillow, I realized that she understood that Jesus is God, and that just made my Christmas.

I'm Giving Thanks

Well, November is coming to a close and I'm more than a little sorry to be finishing this challenge. It's been such a blessing (and comic relief sometimes!) to read what everyone else was thankful for, and to really sit down and give words to the things for which I am grateful.

The year is winding down, and I have so much to be thankful for. The health of my family, good friends (corporeal and cyber), milestones that my children have reached and spiritual growth. The list could go on and on, and I want to thank Leah for starting this challenge. It reminded me of all the things (small and large) that I have in my life that make me happy and comfortable. It also reminded me that even the things that make me sad and uncomfortable are there for a reason, and that I should be thankful for them too.

God intends every event in my life....He has orchestrated it from the foundation of the world and for that, I am eternally grateful.

I decided to keep my list in a post so that I would always remember the things for which I was thankful in 2007.

1. Mercy
2. Healthy children
3. A loving husband who cherishes me
4. Google
5. God's sovereignty
6. Online Christmas shopping
7. My piano
8. Hot chocolate with marshmallows.
9. Fresh oranges from my tree
10. My new screen door.
11. Spiritual revival
12. Morning calls from Ronna.
13. Good morning hugs from my sleepy 3 year old
14. The Reformation
15. My backyard.
16. Orange slices, cinnamon and cloves simmering on the stove.
17. Trevor's mechanical prowess.
18. Not being in charge of children's church for another 8 weeks.
19. Cold Shiner Bock
20. Spellcheck
21. Pizza delivery
22. Cool weather for Thanksgiving.
23. Leftovers!
24. Christmas lights
25. Blue Bell ice cream
26. Being cancer free for almost 16 years.
27. The women in my life.
28. My new deck furniture.
29. The fact that my Christmas shopping is done!
30. A day off from work to decorate!

Forgiveness

The sermon tonight at evening worship was on forgiveness. Here is some food for thought:

Recall the scene at the cross. What is arguably the best remembered thing Christ said from the cross? "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." Even Christ had to forgive those who persecuted and tortured Him before God the Father could accept His sacrifice.

Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

Is there someone you need to forgive today? Is there a situation that you feel is so far gone that it is beyond the scope of your ability to forgive? That may be true, but it is never beyond God's ability. If we truly have a broken and contrite heart, God will soften our hearts to allow us to be filled with a spirit of forgiveness and love.

Our sin separates us from God. When we are unwilling to let go of bitterness and past hurts, we are sinning.

For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. Matthew 6:14-15

Let go of the past. Be thankful for the present. Look forward to the future.

A Bad Night Turned Good

I've been having a bad night. I should have gone to the Beth Moore study tonight, but I was so tired and ready to be home after work that I skipped out. This of course made me feel guilty about not fulfilling my commitment to attend this entire study which translated into general irritation with myself.

I have a scrapbook that I should have completed about a week ago for a friend at work, that is still sitting in various stages of disarray on my kitchen table waiting patiently for my creative juices to get flowing again. (Please, please start flowing soon!)

About an hour and a half ago, I started feeling achy and tired with a bit of a chill. I took a warm bath and then was so tired that I got right into bed, but in spite of feeling awful, could not fall asleep. I resigned myself to getting up for a little while longer and decided to check my email and visit my favorite blogs to see of there were any new posts.

Lo and behold, I went to Heather's blog and this

was waiting for me in a brand, spanking new post of hers! What a lovely surprise and instant pick me up. I can't tell you how encouraging I find all of your blogs. I think my "real life" friends and family get a little tired of hearing about my "cyber life" friends sometimes. Rarely a day goes by that I don't reference an event, post or comment from the blogosphere. So getting this award just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The “Change Begins at Home” award is designed to honor people who walk the walk with regards to what they “preach” in their blogs, and who are trying to start in their own homes with making the changes they’d like to see in the world.

I think my husband and children might cock their heads in confusion if they saw this (except for maybe the "preach" part), but I am honored nonetheless. I have spiritually grown so much in the last 6 months or so, greatly in part to the support I've found right here. I'd like to pass this award along to a few women that have made such a difference in my walk, and have encouraged me through the tales of their day to day lives to live in such a way that God is glorified and lifted up.

So Kate, Debra, Faraja, and Alana: please step forward and receive your reward. No....not that reward, that comes much later, but I hope this in some way conveys the respect and love I have for each of you. I know that no matter what kind of day I'm having, you are all right here cheering me on and making me want to be a better person.

A Season of Grace

I have been reading the book of James in my quiet time over the last 4 weeks and God has revealed so much to me during that time. I've never really done a quiet time like this before. In the past I've pulled a devotional off of the shelf or used my Sunday School lesson, and there is nothing wrong with doing it that way. But I was feeling a real calling from God to consistently have a quiet time and to do it differently than I ever had before.

Boy I'm glad I listened!

There have been many verses that have spoken to me and affected a change in my daily behavior. The first was James 2:13:

"For judgment is without mercy to the one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment." Let me say that again...."Mercy triumphs over judgment." Not sometimes, not occasionally, not just in those situations where we feel like it's in our best interest to be merciful....always. If we want to be shown mercy, we must be merciful. And shouldn't we want to show mercy because of the grace and mercy that God has freely given us in the person of Jesus Christ?

One of my biggest stumbling blocks is my judgmental nature. I am oh so quick to point out the faults and problems of others, but live in fear of being judged myself. Have I stopped being judgmental? Not completely, but I am seeing a change in my attitude and spirit. Although my initial gut reaction is judgment, my secondary response is close on it's heels. I really try to imagine what that person is going through that would make them act the way they do, and that is usually enough to spur me into a spirit of mercy and compassion.

My prayer every single morning has been that when people see me, that they will not see me, but will see Christ instead. I want to be so open to the Spirit and guided by Him, that I am transparent to the world and show God's glory in my every word and deed. Is this attainable? Nope. I sin and I stumble. If you ask my husband or children they would probably say, "Jesus who?" based on my behavior sometimes. But the more I strive to be like Christ and to be in the Word, the easier it is to see sinful behavior for what it is and to be open to God's conviction.

I have noticed that when I sin, I am instantly ashamed and feel the need to ask for forgiveness right then and there. This is a completely new experience for me, because I can honestly say that I have never been this close to the Lord in my life. I have had seasons where I was more obedient than others, but this is the first time that I have completely submitted myself to Him, which brings me to my next verse, James 4:7-8a:

"Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." This has been such a powerful verse in my daily walk. When I am tempted to do something sinful, this verse pops into my head. When I am submissive to God and try exhibit the attitudes and behaviors that He desires for me, the devil naturally flees from righteousness. And I pray the verse. I pray it when I sin and visualize Satan screaming in rage and defeat as God stands like a stone wall before me stopping and defeating the enemy.

There are so many other verses that have been revelations to me, but it would take hours of typing to share it all here. Suffice it to say that I would strongly recommend James as text for meditation and quiet time. I think I might move over to 1 Timothy next. Our pastor used it in his sermon last week, and I was strangely drawn to it. Have you ever turned to a passage in church and gotten so engrossed in reading that you missed part of the sermon? That's what I did this past Sunday (my apologies to Pastor Randy!), but it made me desire to know that particular chunk of scripture better.

God is good. He guides me and takes care of me daily. My life has been so changed since I started spending quality time first thing in the morning with Him. I thought I would never get used to rolling out of bed at 5:00 am every morning, but it has become such a habit that I'm not even bothered by it anymore. There have been a few mornings that I have been lazy (or sick), but all in all I have been consistent and that brings me a great deal of joy. I practically run to the living room with my hot, steaming mug of coffee to open my bible and see what God has in store for me. I read the same chapter all week, and every day God reveals something different. Some days my cross reference study shows me such amazing truths as I meander through the bible that I want to call someone and tell them! (And believe me, if it weren't 5:15 in the morning, more than one person would have received a call over the last few weeks!)

If this is an encouragement to you, then I give the glory to God. I fervently hope and pray that each of you enter into a season such as this...one of closeness and intimacy with the Lord.

Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. James 5:16

Will You Pray With Me?

I know that I have many sisters in Christ here in the blogosphere, and that is why I am putting this out there. I have a dear family member who has been struggling with addiction for some time now, and she is finally willing to go through a rehabilitation program to get her life in order.

Girls...she is in need of much prayer. She is a beautiful girl....smart, funny and mother to a wonderful little boy. Her life is in such shambles that it is hard for her to see days in the future, much less years. She is literally fighting for her life, and I firmly believe that the only way she is going to overcome this is through prayer (ours and hers) and through a spiritual awakening in her dry and thirsty soul. If anyone was ever in a desert place, it is her.

So I call on you, my sisters in Christ, my fellow prayer warriors....lift her up. Lift her up and thwart the plans that Satan has for her. Pray that God's will is revealed to her in a mighty way and that her life will be a testament to His mercy and grace.

Just pray.

Nathaniel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad....

...five weeks.

Yep, you read that correctly. My six year old has had just about 5 weeks worth of bad days. If you do the math, his run of bad luck began just about the time that 1st grade started. Hmmmm.....could there be a connection?

Every day, Nathan brings home a purple folder with his homework, papers to be signed, permission slips and a conduct report. If he doesn't pull any marks all day, he gets a little smiley face for that day. If he does pull marks, he gets a letter grade based on frequency and severity.

The first week of school, all was forgiven with the words his teacher wrote across the blank spaces for that week: "Learning the new rules."

The second week of school, he received 3 smiley faces and 2 letter grades. Enough to make Trevor and I sit down with him and discuss behavior and what we expect of him.

From week 3 to week 5, he has had more bad days than good. We began taking privileges away (computer, Gameboy, time with his best friend, new Harry Potter costume for Halloween), hoping that he would modify his behavior and walk the straight and narrow.

HA!

Then came this past Sunday afternoon. We were at our annual church picnic, and Nathan was waiting in line to ride the horses. I went to check on him since he had been in line for quite some time, and as I was walking up I saw him hit a slightly older boy as hard as he could with an open hand on the back. Imagine the look of surprise and horror when I gripped the back of his neck with steel fingers and led him away from the line. That incident ended all hopes of riding a horse, and we left the picnic immediately. His behavior had finally disintegrated into physical violence.

When we got home, we sent him to his room so we could discuss appropriate punishment. We had (seemingly) tried everything, and nothing seemed to be working. We decided to follow through with a previous threat, and removed everything except for his bed and his clothes from his bedroom. He just laid there on the bed with emotionless eyes as we made trip after trip in and out of his room. It wasn't until we had retrieved the last of his things and firmly shut the door behind us that we heard him begin to cry. This just broke my heart, and I leaned on the kitchen counter trying to compose myself.

Retrospectively, this punishment was a little harsh, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. We told him that he would only get his things back by proving to us that he could make good choices and behave himself at school. I thought we had gotten through to him, and Monday morning we went over his behavior one more time to encourage him to be good at school.

At 3:45 pm, I received a phone call from his teacher to inform me that Nathan had hit a child in the face with his closed fist. I sounded like a cartoon character as I stuttered and tried to formulate words. I was literally speechless. Horrified and speechless. She told me that he would be sent to the vice-Principal's office in the morning to be written up and punished. We discussed his behavior and she was at a loss as well. He was doing an exceptional job academically, he was challenged in class and finished his work. She mentioned that he seemed angry about something, and I agreed.

As I drove home, I tried to figure out what could be making him so angry. I called my mom (who has a doctorate in education) to get some advice. After I spilled my guts for about 10 minutes straight, I finally stopped long enough for her to give me her opinion. What she said to me stopped me dead in my tracks and brought tears to my eyes.

She asked me what I had been doing differently in the past several weeks, then answered the question for me. I had been on a diligent campaign to pray for my children every day, and Satan was attacking me. He was trying to find a foothold on which to latch on and fill me with doubt about my parenting and about the character of my child.

It was working.

What she said was so obvious that I felt a little ridiculous for not recognizing it for myself. Before we hung up, she gave me a few practical tips and some advice for dealing with the situation. I prayed and thanked God for the situation and for helping me to grow as a mother and as a Christian. Although the battle was far from won, I felt a real peace about how I needed to deal with Nathan.

Without going into all of the details, I had a really good talk with Nathan that evening and I think that we made progress in communication. He saw the vice-principal the next morning (he received an hour and a half of in school suspension), and then later in the morning saw the school counselor (who taught my husband math in high school). I spoke with her and she gave me some good advice and we discussed the importance of Christian principles in rearing children. I told her that she was always welcome to bring everything back to God with regard to disciplining and talking to Nathan. We try our best to raise our children in a biblical manner, and it was good to know that I have an ally at school.

The point of this post is that this experience has made Trevor and I re-evaluate how we raise our children. We have instituted a "no computer, no TV until the kids go to bed" rule (which explains the dismal number of entries on my blog this past week) and we have family night every night. We help Nathan with his homework while we are cooking supper, and then after he is finished we do something together. Monday night it was a board game and Tuesday it was building a fort in the playroom. The point is that we are spending more time with our kids, and we've noticed a difference in their behavior.

Nathan has earned his room and Gameboy back with good behavior at school, and when he gets home in the evening he can't wait for family time. We still have issues to work through, and he's still going to have bad days at school, but we'll get through it together. I think one of our mistakes was that we were not adequately balancing our expectations for good behavior with reassurances that we loved him no matter what. I think that in his little 6 year old brain he thought he had to be perfect, and that was a goal that was completely unattainable (duh). It was such a huge mountain to climb that he didn't even try, hence the declining behavior.

Anyway, Nathan has had a dramatic change in behavior this week and I praise God that He has surrounded me with people who are willing and able to give me godly advice and counsel. And just so you know, my prayer time about my children has only increased because of this attack.

I will fear no evil

For my God is with me

And if my God is with me

Whom then shall I fear?

Whom then shall I fear?

My God is stronger than any attack that Satan can mount against me. My God is the great I AM. My God gives me strength and grace for every situation. My God is good.

Spiritual Faux Pas Forgiven

Thank you, dear friends, for all of your comments and suggestions regarding my quiet time! I may not drop in at your house for coffee, or see you at church during the week, but I have come to know and love each of you through our mutual interest in blogging. I want you to know how much I appreciate your responses.

I decided that getting up later was not an option, so I tried saying a quick prayer before I began reading the Word, and found that He opened my eyes wide this morning! I felt like He was revealing Himself directly to me as I read and I was frantically jotting notes in the margin of my bible. At the rate I am going, the book of James in my bible is going to be overrun with my handwriting!

When I finished up with a more in-depth prayer time, I found that I had even more to praise and thank Him for because of the reading! I was so overwhelmed that I found myself on my knees in the dining room, worshiping and glorifying His name in a way that I had not done in a long time. Although I posted my frustrations about being sleepy in a slightly humorous way, it was a real problem and Satan was using it to convince me to just stay in bed. After this morning, I am renewed and my memory verses for this week are:

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Romans 12:2

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Psalm 51:10

The only way that I will be consistently renewed and refreshed is by reading the Word of God and by having an active and healthy prayer life. I feel like a new person this morning!

Spiritual Faux Pas

As I sit here in my big, comfy chair, sipping on an ice cold Vanilla Coke Zero I am suddenly exhausted. Some sort of supernatural energy must have propelled me through my day, because I am completely and totally spent right now.

Strangely enough, I slept late this morning until almost 7 am because I forgot to set my alarm and Trevor didn't want to wake me. I've been getting up around 5 am for the past few weeks to have my quiet time, and it has been wonderful. Wonderful prayer time, wonderful time digging into the Word and wonderful alone time.

What is not wonderful is the actual dragging of my body out of bed at such an obscene hour of the morning. And let me tell you....although my mantra has been, "It will get easier, it will get easier" it has not! Did I mention that I am not a morning person? Did I mention that even my husband won't speak to me until I've had at least one cup of coffee? What makes me think that God Himself wants to hear what I have to say in that early morning, pre-coffee tone of voice?

Since I'm being honest here, I must also report that I have come dangerously close to falling asleep during my prayer time. I have my coffee right there in front of me, and I've had a few sips to get me going, but it feels a little disrespectful to drink coffee while conversing with the Lord of Lords, so I refrain during my prayer.

5 am + Insufficient coffee= Potential for dozing off

Am I alone here? Please tell me that I am not the only one who has jerked my head up with the horrifying realization that my thoughts had wandered and I was drifting off. My spirit is oh so willing, but my flesh is definitely weak. So I redouble my efforts and pray for focus and strength. I've tried praying with my eyes open, but I get too distracted. I've tried praying at the end of my quiet time, but I like to begin with it so that I can get in the proper state of mind for reading the Word.

I guess the important thing is that I am having a quiet time, although some mornings I think the Lord just shakes is head in disgust at my feeble attempts to communicate. I wonder sometimes if my thoughts sound as muddled as my voice does when I try to speak when I'm really tired. Some mornings, I'm just thankful to have the Holy Spirit interceding for me!

This morning was one of those mornings, and although it seemed as if my day was off to an inauspicious beginning, it turned out to be a wonderful, albeit busy, day. My mom was in town and so I was able to chat with her for most of the morning before she left to go home. Our friends Chris and Ali moved into their new house today, so we spent a good portion of our afternoon and evening helping them get settled in.

I got to bathe their son Calvin, who is almost one year old. I had forgotten how sweet it is to hold a little one in the water and then to wrap them up in a big towel to whisk them away to be slathered in lotion and put in pajamas. He is such a good natured baby and it was fun to do those baby things again. Of course, it was fun because he wasn't spending the night with me and I didn't have to get up at 2 am to comfort him. Everything is relative!

So, it's been a good day with even better friends, and I'm ending my day the way I started it....praising God for the blessings in my life and giving Him the glory for everything. And, of course, setting the coffee pot up for tomorrow morning.....

(BTW...Happy 6th Anniversary Chris and Ali!)

Christmas in September

I am so excited! I talked to Ronna yesterday and they are planning to be here for Christmas this year! They will spend the week before Christmas with her mother and brother and then drive down to our house around the 22nd, and spend the following week with us. Whoo hoo!

I called Mama and Daddy, and Amber and David (my sister and her husband) to see if they could come over as well. Barring any natural disasters or serious scheduling issues, everyone will be here for Christmas!!!! This is wonderful news for several different reasons:

1. The house in which I am living is also the house in which I grew up. We bought it from Mama and Daddy when they decided to move back home to Louisiana. It will be fun to have the whole family back home in the old house for Christmas again. We are so geographically spread out these days, that getting all of us together at one time is quite a challenge.


2. I have a piano now! This means that we can sing around the piano to our heart's content and it will really "feel" like Christmas. Not to mention the fact that I will once again hear the sound of Mama's playing as I cook and work around the house.


3. All of the cousins will be together for Christmas morning. One of my best memories ever of Christmas as a child, was the one when we stayed with my aunt and uncle Christmas Eve and all six cousins slept in one bedroom. We could barely stand the excitement of waiting for Santa Claus, and we didn't sleep much that night. When I became an adult, I learned that my parents and my aunt and uncle had a great time that night as well staying up late to assemble toys and arrange them in the living room for a crew of six children! I want my children and my brother and sister's children to have the same kinds of memories to carry into adulthood with them.


4. My family keeps Christ in the center of the celebrations. One of my favorite traditions is the reading of the Christmas story from Luke on Christmas Eve. We have been doing this since before I was born, first at the annual family reunions at my paternal great-grandparents home when I was a small child, and then at our house as my parents established traditions of their own, and we stayed in Texas for Christmas. I remember it being sort of an honor to be asked to read the story at my great-grandparent's house. The atmosphere would change from loud and rambunctious to quiet and respectful as Papa's worn Bible was opened and read. The person reading was careful to speak loudly and clearly so that their voice could be heard throughout the house and out on the porch where people had spilled out for lack of seating. After the story was read, a prayer of thanksgiving was said over our family and then someone always sat down at the piano and played a carol to accompany the myriad of Christian voices praising God for the gift of His son. The song Silent Night echoes in my mind, but I'm sure that there were other songs sung from year to year. Only after we had focused on Christ and had a time of fellowship, did we begin opening gifts. Because of this ritual and tradition, no one ever had to tell me that presents were of minimal importance at Christmas. It was implied in the way that my family revered God and put Him first. I was never confused about Santa Claus or any of the other secular things about Christmas because I was taught at an early age what Christmas was really about.


5. I haven't spent Christmas Eve with my family since I've been married. Actually, that's not true. We spent Nathan's second Christmas in Louisiana, but I'm talking about just my mom, dad and siblings. Trevor's family opens gifts on Christmas Eve, so we always spend it with his family and then would spend Christmas Day with mine. I know that getting married involves sharing holidays and splitting time, but even after 10 years, I still can't get used to spending Christmas away from my family. It always feel a little empty and hollow when I am not able to participate in the traditions that I hold so dear.
6. I would be remiss if I did not mention all of the glorious food that I associate with Christmas. I come from a family of cooks and the food is always homemade and wonderful! Seriously...I could eat at Christmas and then have enough calories stored away to hibernate for a few months.

So, needless to say I am stoked about Christmas this year! As always, it will be here before we know it...I actually bought a few gifts while I was out shopping today.

I've shared a few things that I associate with Christmas....now it's your turn. What are some traditions that your family had growing up? Have you developed any of your own since leaving home?

I AM -- Beautiful to God

What is your initial response when anyone suggests that you are beautiful?

It really depends on how I feel about myself at the time of the compliment. If I am making progress with my weight loss and feel good about my physical appearance, then I can graciously accept those kinds of compliments. When I feel fat and awkward, I feel as though everyone who makes such a comment must be lying. My husband finds this to be more than a little annoying, because he loves me fat or thin, sick or healthy, first thing in the morning or all made up for a date. His perception of me does not change, it's just my own insecurity rearing it's ugly head.

Do you find that you engage in a lot of negative "self-talk"? How much of your thought life does this form of thinking consume?

Again, the negative "self-talk" is directly linked to the amount of weight that I have lost or gained. If I am doing well in that area, I am must less apt to talk negatively about my appearance. It's like a defense mechanism...if I point out how fat I am, or how large my thighs are, etc, I am in control. I said it first, so if someone agrees with me or continues on with the subject of my weight, it doesn't seem as hurtful as if they had brought up the subject. I spend quite a bit of my time thinking about my weight, how to lose it, how I will look when I finally get rid of it, etc. It seems like every decision I make is somehow linked to my size...what to eat, what to wear, how I will look to others as I do my day to day activities.

Has it ever occurred to you that you are a City Girl? How do you plan to use this knowledge?

I've never really thought about it in that way, although I've always known that I was a child of the King. (Actually, when I read that phrase in the study, the first thing that popped into my mind was On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Laura and her sister were looked down on by some of the girls at school because they were "country girls" instead of "city or town girls") No matter what my physical appearance, it's encouraging to know that God thinks I'm beautiful. It's funny, because when I'm teaching Sunday School or bible study, it doesn't cross my mind that I'm overweight. I get so caught up in the Word and in what God has led me to say, that those sorts of things don't even register. Maybe that's the key....to fill me mind so completely with the things that are of God, and stay so busy being used by Him, that the value I put on my physical appearance takes a backseat to the value God puts on my soul.

(OK....I confess. I did the study last week after looking at the Round 1 version of this installment. This question is different from the new one, but I'm just going to leave it the way it is.....)

In what ways has your view of Godly beauty changed as a result of these scriptures?

This week's study and the scriptures that went along with it really made me think about what kind of beauty I am striving for. I'll never be ideal by the world's standards, but that sort of physical beauty should not be my focus. I'm not saying that I shouldn't take care of my body...it is a temple, after all. But my value is not determined by my weight, the condition of my skin and hair or the firmness of my body. I am valued by God because Jesus bore all of my ugliness for me. All I have to do is be obedient and live my life in such a way that the beauty of Christ shines through me. I want people to look at me and immediately see that I am a beloved child of the living God. I want the glory of His character to shine on my face and to be seen in my actions.

If you want to read more about the study, click here.

Up on the Mountain

I got up early again this morning and had my quiet time. No kids, no husband...just me and God. I spent time in prayer preparing myself for reading scripture and had such a revealing, intimate time with the Lord.

I met with my prayer/accountability partner (Ali) this morning and was doubly blessed today with our conversation and prayer. As we talked about our week and the scriptures that we had been reading, I discovered that she had also pulled out an old copy of Beth Moore's Whispers of Hope to help her in her quiet time. As Ronna would say, "Yay God!" I felt that it was more than coincidence that we had picked up the same book for study. I felt so in line with what God wants for my life and I am excited that I am progressing and maturing spiritually. This is one of those "mountain" times for me, and my prayer is that I will be able to persevere through the "valley" times that may be ahead.

It's been a lazy Saturday. I have done nothing more strenuous than bake and frost a layer cake for our friend's birthday party tonight. We're going over for fajitas (thank you Lord, for letting me live in Texas!) and fellowship with some of our dearest friends. I am so blessed that I barely have the words for it....

Time Alone With God

I should probably start by saying that I am not a morning person. This will come as no surprise to those who know me, but I felt that it was important to point it out.

I read Melissa's blog, and followed the link the the 5:00 am Club and was intrigued. I have been very rebellious regarding my quiet time with God and being in the Word aside from my Sunday School and bible study preparation. I have become so accustomed to either not having one at all, or just doing it when it seems convenient that I have completely forgotten what a blessing it is to start my day with real prayer and meditation.

I am ashamed to admit that the last time I really tried to commit myself to a regular quiet time was back in 2003. This is one area of my Christian walk where I am really weak, and I have been convicted of it in recent months. So, this morning I got up at 5:20am and prepared to have my quiet time before the kids rolled (leaped) out of bed. I felt like I needed something to guide me, so I pulled the Beth Moore book Whispers of Hope off the bookshelf, blew off the dust and dug in.

The book is intended to encourage prayer life (another area where I feel like I fail over and over again) and I was so excited to rediscover this tool that would help me stengthen my two weakest points. The devotional is broken up into 70 days of prayer and meditation and I was horrified that I only did 6 of them the last time.

Six.

Six measly days. That's as long as I could manage to stick with my quiet time.

Pathetic.

So, as you can imagine, I was excited about renewing my commitment to the Lord and to really dig into the Word and be more consistent with my prayer life. As I started to sit down at the table, I decided that I would rather have my shower and get dressed first so that I would be ready when the kids got up. Once I was dressed and ready for work, I went back to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before I sat down to begin.

I can't tell you how good it felt to unburden my heart to the Lord! I felt like a huge weight had been lifted..."Create in me a clean heart!" my soul cried, and God heard my prayer. I was refreshed and ready to dive into the Word, open to whatever He wanted me to see and understand.

I ended up reading the chapters that contained the verses I had committed to memorize earlier in the week, and I was overcome by the truth in what I was reading. I was really getting absorbed the Word, when Gracie came shuffling into the kitchen in her Pull-up. (I guess I'll do quiet time before the shower tomorrow!) My reading became a little sporadic as I dealt with all of her questions and needs as she got dressed. I had to keep reminding myself to be patient with her (it seemed wrong to yell and fuss while I was reading the bible....is there a lesson here?)When I told her to go put her shoes on, this is how she appeared.....


After a quick shoe change, I finally got her settled in the playroom with a DVD and was able to finish my reading. When I said my final "amen", I felt so good and ready to face the day. I can't wait for tomorrow morning and the chance to do it all over again.

I AM -- Just In Time

I was reading the I AM study about how God intentionally places us where He wants us to be, and that we need to be responsive to the Holy Spirit so that we can be used. All I kept thinking about was a life-changing experience that I had as a young adult. This event was pre-children and pre-marriage. In a way, I gauge milestones (at least in my mind) by their relationship in time to this experience. Was it before or after?

I have forgotten so much since then, although I think some of that is a defense mechanism. But the most important thing about my story is how God worked out His plan in me, so here it goes...

When I was 19, I was diagnosed with cancer. More specifically, Nodular Sclerosing Hodgkin's Lymphoma, stage IIA.

I was attending Texas A&M University (whoop!), and it was the fall of my sophomore year. I was a microbiology major, so as you can imagine, I had a backpack crammed full of ridiculously over sized textbooks that I had to haul across campus from class to class. One evening as I was studying in my dorm room, I was rubbing my neck in an attempt to relieve some of the tension caused by all that weight and I stopped mid-rub. There was a mass of lymph nodes in my left neck. I can still remember the sensation under my fingertips as I tried to make sense of what I was feeling.

Looking back, I was abnormally sick that semester. I had never had the flu until that fall, and I was just not myself but I chalked it up to stress and college. I went to the campus quack shack where I was diagnosed with mono and sent back to my dorm with antibiotics.

I don't remember calling Mama and Daddy about the lumps in my neck, or the original appointment with my PCP, but I do remember the trip home for Christmas break knowing that my doctor had recommended a biopsy. It all seemed very surreal until I stepped inside my parent's house, decorated floor to ceiling with all of the familiar Christmas decorations and saw Mama. For the first (and next to last) time, I completely lost it. I sobbed on Mama's shoulder out of fear and the prospect of a completely unknown future.

I spent the days before the biopsy researching what might be causing my illness. Back in 1991, the internet was not at my fingertips, so I scoured our encyclopedias and health books. I had more or less self diagnosed myself with Hodgkin's, and remember reading that surgeons could often tell if it was Hodgkin's by the way the biopsied lymph node looked.

I went in for the biopsy on December 23rd, and remember waking up while being moved from the surgery table to the stretcher and asking the doctor if it was Hodgkin's, and then promptly falling back asleep. We spent our Christmas in Louisiana with family, and I vacillated between enjoying the extra attention, and being annoyed that there was a reason I was being coddled.

On New Year's Eve we received the call from the surgeon: the node was positive for lymphoma and I needed to make an appointment with an oncologist for treatment options. Actually, my mom received the call, and she drove over to Uncle Tellius' house to tell me. I am ashamed to admit that I was so determined to act as though it was no big deal that I was quite brusque with Mama and wouldn't allow myself to be hugged or comforted. Now that I am a mother, I can see that she needed to hold me and feel that I was still there. She needed comfort too.

So, it was decided that I would not return to A&M in the spring. Instead, I would have a staging laparotomy and splenectomy and spend my time receiving radiation treatment. So, a month to the day after my biopsy, I found myself on the oncology ward of the hospital recovering from surgery. I had an incision from mid-sternum to about 3 inches below my naval, and it was a horrific recovery. Remember I mentioned earlier that when I broke down in Mama's arms it was the next to last time I lost it? This was the last time.

I had been extubated, and had been receiving excruciating breathing treatments so prevent me from getting pneumonia (a possible death sentence to the spleenless) but I still wasn't being allowed anything to drink. I had reached my breaking point and I found myself in Mama's arms again, repeating over and over again that I was doing everything they asked and not complaining so why couldn't I have some water?

But, time passed and I slowly healed. I had 55 staples holding me together and when I was strong enough, I was taken down to the Radiation Oncology department to start the planning for my treatment. I had to lay on my recently opened stomach for about 45 minutes (and hold still) as they took films and drew on my skin. I can't even begin to describe the pain, although I am grateful for it now because it gives me a true sense of empathy for my own patients.

Anyway, after a series of admissions to the hospital for post-op infections and complications, I finally started my radiation to the neck, chest and abdomen. I had lost over 20 lbs in a matter of 2 weeks and I was skin and bones, but secretly excited that I was thin. (Forgive me, I was in college!) The radiation was a breeze compared to the surgery and I actually enjoyed the drive to Houston every day. For the first time ever, I had nothing to do. No school, no job; just getting better. Driving to my treatments got me out of the house for a few hours.

As my treatment came to a close, I begin to look to the future. Hodgkin's is very curable in it's early stages, and I needed to start thinking about going back to school and getting on with my life. As the realization that I was really going to get through this sank in I started feeling that I needed to somehow repay all of the kindness that had been shown to me. Not just a thank you card and a cake, but something life changing.

I realized that God puts us in the middle of difficult circumstances in order to prune us and to point us in the right direction. I wasn't meant to be a microbiologist....I was meant to serve God by healing other cancer patients. I asked my therapists for information about school and they procured a package of information from MD Anderson about their radiation therapy program. I applied and was accepted for the fall.

I was so excited about therapy school and couldn't wait for the summer to be over so I could begin the training that would allow me to do what I knew God had planned for me. I begin my classwork and clinical rotations and was more sure than ever that this was the right thing for me to be doing. I loved working with cancer patients and I loved the technical aspect of my job. At the risk of sounding conceited, I was good at it too. Everything came naturally to me and I excelled in my coursework.

Then around October, I began having night sweats. Soaking, drenching, (scary) have to get up and change my clothes night sweats. I was horrified, because this was one of the symptoms of Hodgkin's. With my original diagnosis, I had no classic symptoms of the disease (night sweats, unexplained weight loss, itching). I didn't tell anyone for a good while, because I was hoping that it would just go away. I soon realized that ignoring it wasn't going to work and I finally went to my oncologist for more bone marrow aspirations, CAT scans, bone scans and blood work.

She could not find any obvious disease that would be causing my symptoms, so she referred me to MD Anderson for additional testing. They immediately found a positive lymph node in my pelvis, and recommended chemotherapy for the recurrence. I was devastated. I went to the director of the therapy program with every intention of resigning from the program until my treatment was complete, but he encouraged me to stay in school so I did.

In January of 1993, the week after my 21st birthday I started chemo. By February I had lost all of my hair and decided that I just didn't care and walked around bald. Oh, the impetuousness of youth! I would never in a million years do that now, but I was working in an environment that catered to bald women carrying chemo bags, so I fit right in! I took chemo for 7 months and it was hard.

Hard to get up in the morning and go to class and clinic. Hard to force myself to take the horrid little pills at home, and to drink all of the water I was supposed to. (I couldn't drink bottled water for years after) Hard to watch the chemicals slowly dripping out of the bag into my veins, knowing that I would be throwing up soon, and then unable to eat for days because of the sores in my mouth and throat. Hard to watch all of my friends live normal lives while I was labeled "sick" and "weak". There were so many things that were hard about that time in my life, but the one thing that never changed was my conviction that God had a purpose for me.

Because of that knowledge and conviction, I made it through school, graduated in 1994 and was hired on at Anderson as a therapist. I have spent the years since ministering to my patients through kindness, empathy, and prayer. I love my job. I love it more knowing that God intended it for me. I love it that God has specifically put so many people in my path because He knew that I would be able to comfort them in a way that no one except a cancer survivor can.

So, there is my story. It's not complete...it would take too long to record all of the stories and memories associated with those 2 years, but this will suffice. When I let myself get discouraged, I just remind myself that God is in control and that He knows what He is doing. Even when it hurts. Even when we are being pruned for better fruit. Even when it feels as though we've been abandoned, He is achieving His purpose through us. We are always where God intends us to be, we just have to listen to what He is saying and then say, "Yes, Lord. Use me!"

Test Failed....Lesson Learned

I'm pretty sure I failed a test yesterday. Flunked. Bombed. F.

Nathan's first day of 1st grade was yesterday, and I drove him to school and walked him to the classroom. As I left him at his big-boy desk filled with books, I reminded him that he was to ride bus #7 to Miss Heather's house (our sitter) after school and that I would see him at home.

Fast forward to 4:00pm.

Nathan's bus still had not arrived at Heather's house, but I was not overly alarmed because it was the first day of school and things were bound to run a little slow. It was also raining cats and dogs, and that always slows things down.

4:17 pm.....no bus.

4:32 pm....still no bus.

I was started to get a little frantic as it was Nathan's first time ever to ride the bus, and even after repeated calls to the bus barn, I could not get a person on the line. I called Heather for updates several times, but the answer was the same.

Then at 5:01 pm Heather called me and the words she spoke made my insides turn to liquid and my heart stop beating.

"He's not on the bus."

"Oh God!! Please let him be okay! Please protect him and let him be okay!!!!" I had visions of abductions, police at the house, and search teams in the fields around our town.

As we were speaking, Trevor pulled up in her driveway, and I let her go so she could fill him in on the details. I was on the way home, sitting in traffic (if they knew how desperately I needed to get home, they would have parted like the Red Sea!) waiting for a call from Trevor. I gave him approximately 3.28 minutes, and when my phone did not ring, I called him.

I asked him what was going on, and he responded with some inane comment about how hard it was raining.

AAUUGGGHHHH!!!

I (rather rudely) interrupted with, "I don't care about the weather!! WHERE IS NATHAN??!!" Trevor was on his way home to see if Nathan had been dropped off there, which is what the driver of bus #7 had told Heather. Apparently, Nathan had gotten on the correct bus, but then through a series of misunderstandings was taken off and put on bus #29 (which goes to our empty house).

So, when Trevor discovered that Nathan was not home, he went back to Heather's to see if he had turned up there. This entire time we were unable to get in touch with the bus barn, but that is a story for another day. I was still on the phone with Trevor when he pulled up to Heather's house, and he said that Nathan was not there.

"Wait....there he is", were the sweetest words my husband has ever uttered to me. I calmly said "Thank you God!" and told Trevor good-bye. Then I promptly pulled over into the nearest parking lot and burst into tears. Tears of relief and joy that I had not lost my baby.

As soon as I recovered, I got back on the road home. I was still crying, but not so badly that I couldn't see the road. I wish I could say that I handled the situation calmly and with the knowledge that God was in control and that I could handle anything because of that knowledge.

Nope. I was a raving lunatic on the inside and my prayers were not prayers for calmness and peace, or even for grace to get me through whatever might happen. They were hastily thrown together words flung at the heavens in fear and confusion. When I should have leaned on God and let His peace and mercy wash over me and control my reactions, I could only scream in the most primal way to NOT TAKE MY SON FROM ME!

I know what the scripture says about worrying and about placing our trust completely in God, even in times of trouble. I don't usually have a problem with this when the situation is normal crazy, if you know what I mean. People who are sick, schedules bearing down on me, difficult times in my marriage, the death of loved ones, etc, etc. Those situations are built for praying and opening myself up to God's guidance and grace...I have the time to think about God's sovereignty and how I should respond as a Christian.

But in an emergency.....that's an entirely different story. I felt so ashamed after it was all over that I had not immediately stopped and prayed, praising God for being in control. I discovered that it's easy to teach Sunday School and bible study and point out these basic truths to others, with a whole fistful of scripture to back it up. It is an entirely different thing to practice it first hand when you feel like your entire world has imploded, leaving you gasping for air in the sudden vacuum.

Maybe that is the lesson I was supposed to glean from this experience. Although I failed to turn to God with complete faith and trust this time, my prayer and desire is that I will respond rightly next time.