Sorry that's mine

So here I find myself, really needing to go through all of the boxes in the sunroom. But...am pretty boxed out!

Hopefully, (fingers crossed) Mark will get his cast off tomorrow. He is SO ready. This week the boys are going to a VBS at Texas Water Rampage (our little local Hurricane Harbor). But Mark can't participate in any water activities. Last night he was pretty bummed. But we talked about how we have rules for a reason, and when he chooses to break those rules he must pay the consequences. And as much as I love him there may be a time when his choices will not allow me to alter his fate. So we are all praying the cast will be removed tomorrow. Please pray with us.

But I have been experiencing something else lately. We were sitting at a table Sunday evening and a lady at a nearby table reached out to grab one of OUR chairs. Normally I would not mind, but that was my husbands chair she was grabbing. I politely told her as she made eye contact with me that I was so sorry but we were using that chair. She replies, "THIS chair? You're using this chair?" I again confirmed the fact that yes we were using it. She then basically drops it back down on all four legs, rolls her eyes, huffs, and turns around. I was never so glad to see Chris coming back to his chair. i wanted to go up and tap her on the shoulder and say "SEE, We WERE using it!" But I contained myself.

Then last night as we were at Texas Water Rampage, Chris came and placed the tube Noah was using, up on our beach chair. After about 5 minutes, a little girl comes running up and jumps in it prepared to run off with her new spare tire (boy I wish I could attribute my spare tire to an inner tube). But I reached out and gently said, "Oh I am sorry sweetie that is ours." She looks at me and says, "It is?" All the while still clinging to it like I might say, "NO I was just teasing you! You can take it." So when I said "yes" again, she dropped it and ran off.
I thought geeez what is going on? Why is everyone wanting to take our things? But I have also uncovered a deeper meaning here...

How many times does Satan come along and try to take something that is ours, and we just sit back and say, "Okay sir you can take it. I really wasn't using it/deserving of it in the first place." I know I do. I may not say those words, but I sure do allow him to take it, and then cry about it when it's gone. For example, when Chris was let go from one company right before Christmas, instead of thinking that the Lord had something better in store, I allowed Satan's lies to come in and rob me of the joy of the holiday. Another instance, instead of enjoying the fact that we got money back at closing, I am STILL holding onto the check--just in case the title company made a mistake and asks for it back. I don't see it as a gift from God, instead I listen to the fears placed in my mind and allow the excitement of His blessing to slip from my heart.

I wonder what Satan would do, if I said--"Oh no excuse me that's mine...and I WILL use it!" Maybe these instances are God's sweet gentle way (before he pulls out the 2x4) of allowing me to practice that very sentence. I serve a good God and He has given me so many blessings, I truly need to practice embracing what He has given me. So this week I encourage you to grab that gift God is giving you and embrace it before someone questions whether or not it is really yours. I know I am holding onto my chair and inner tube and every other thing!

Grill, and Cooking Bowls

Today has been a bit of a sad day that spilled over from last night. My husband is generally a GREAT gift giver, and spoils me quite often. However, even he slips up occasionally and gives "bad" gifts. Four years ago for Christmas he bought me a Cockatiel because he would watch me play with my mom's Cockatiel and thought that meant I wanted one of my own. The truth of the matter was I felt sorry for her bird because no one ever played with it. But Chris never asked, he just assumed I would love a bird for my very own.

So needless to say when I opened my gift I was quite surprised and not very enthused. I started reading up on the animal and learned that they have a life span of 18-20 years. I thought GREAT! I now have a fourth child! But Spike, as he was later named, grew on me. I even taught him to whistle certain tunes..."whistle while you work" and the song they whistle on the Breakfast Club (don't know the name of the tune).

I was so excited when we got this house because that meant Spike could spend many hours whistling in the sun, without ever becoming annoying. We brought him over Friday and he passed away last night. I am not sure of the reason. The boys would go three days at a time without feeding him fresh food at the old house, and it had been that long last night when I went to give fresh food. But he was very lethargic and non responsive. He died sometime between 3 AM and 6 AM this morning.

I feel like I have committed such an atrocious sin. God created that bird for no other reason than to sing, and I basically killed it--I killed something innocent. Some of you may be laughing hysterically right now, and if so I am glad I could humor you. But I do feel quite guilty/responsible for his death. I remember praying last night that the Lord would simply not let him suffer. I can't imagine the pain/guilt if Spike would have been human.

But I have been trying to keep busy unpacking my kitchen and even though Chris is at work he has provided quite a bit of comedic relief for me today, and thus THAT is the real reason for this post. He labeled many of the boxes in the kitchen and so opening them was always a surprise. One was labeled Metal Pans--translation--Cake pans. Another was labeled Grill and cooking bowls--translation--electric skillet and casserole dishes. The final one was labeled flat pans. Any guesses? Those were cookie sheets. I am amazed at his brilliance in a restaurant kitchen, but in our own kitchen he still confuses tablespoons with teaspoons in recipes. Sometimes a tablespoon of salt is just too much for an enchilada casserole. He tells me it is because he is used to cooking in such large quantities anyway. But he lifted my spirits a bit today simply because he tried.

My hope for you when you're having a bad/sad day is that the Lord would send you someone who, without even trying, will bring a smile to your face and place joy in your heart. I've gotta go...bathroom boxes are waiting now.

Contempt or Content

We are now living in our new home...still painting and cleaning the old one, but living in the new one. It has been a bit of a roller coaster for me. I think about the fact that we will soon be giving the keys back to the landlord of the old house and it makes me kind of sad. I think to myself...that is where I brought two of my three babies home to. I remember things like Matthew pulling himself up to the patio door and watching Mark play outside while he (Matthew) could only bang on it. I remember how Noah army crawled down the hall way (he never learned to crawl the traditional way). I remember how comforting my home was when Chris lost his job at Ruby's. It seemed as though that was the last safe place I had to go to. I remember rollerblading through the neighborhood as Matthew rode in the stroller, the wind blowing through his wispy hair. I remember the smell of my honeysuckle tree as it bloomed in the spring. I remember Noah running down the sidewalk waving good-bye to any and every visitor who came to the house--including the Schwan man. I remember the boys growing big enough to finally climb the tree, and I remember the newly broken arm. So there are lots of memories attached to the home. Yet at the same time, we were literally living on top of each other. 1300 square feet only takes 5 people so far. And we have been praying for a bigger place. Now that we have it, I feel disconnected from it. And all the while I hear the Lord saying, "Child--DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO EGYPT?" See God's people were in bondage for years. Finally, the Lord delivers them and they no longer have to make bricks for someone else--He tells them there will be a land for them flowing with milk and honey. No longer will they be slaves. So they go...but after a while they begin to complain. (Exodus 16:3)

I have come to believe that familiarity does not breed contempt, but CONTENT! I was familiar with what I had--therefore I was content. When we signed closing papers the title company ran the numbers and showed us on paper how wise it was to buy a home. And doesn't God tell us to grow in wisdom? The other night the boys were all three spread out on the floor and there was still room for Chris and I to sit on the couch. WOW! That is what I prayed for. Mark and Matthew had bunk beds that we could never take apart in the old home--now they can no longer be called bunk beds (Matthew tells me) because they are not together. I have more kitchen cabinets than I have dishes. My guests can use the bathroom without me having to help them shut the door, and I don't know how many times Chris and I have lost each other in the new house because there is so much space--it's quite comical. Yet, I still feel a pull to the old--what I knew. Aren't we all like that? We are given the gift of singing and we'll sing, as long as it's not a solo. Others of us are given the gift of leadership and we'll lead as long as we know where we're leading. Yet, it's in the solos, and the unexpected situations that God can bless us the most. I know this house is a blessing, and I want to receive it. It helps to hear the excitement of others as they come over. Knowing where we came from and where we are, everyone has been quite enthusiastic about our home. It is from those moments that I draw the most strength, and try to remember that this is a gift from God. And no gift should be squandered.

So...if you would like to come see our home, please know that you are welcome (just excuse the boxes), and know that not one word you utter goes to waste--your support and encouragement are used by God to remind me of just how very much He loves me...and the new house doesn't hurt either! ;-)

Impetigo, Casts, And Cramping Hands

Today has been a long day. It started at 8 o clock this morning. And, it is the first day of the rest of our lives--or at least the first day of the next thirty years! We finally closed on our house and had many blessings. Things like getting money back at closing, a payment cheaper than what was quoted, and keys before 5 pm.

Yesterday, my pastor talked about receiving the little blessings as much as we wait for the bigger ones (at least that is what I got from it). So while I was scared out of my mind signing my life away today, I tried to concentrate on the fact that God was confirming in me that all would be okay..."look at all the little blessings I am sending your way, while you wait for the big one coming." I felt Him saying. Our friends went over and looked at it, and were very excited for us. That was also a boost--a blessing.

Then there was the other side of life. Noah has impetigo, and it is becoming extremely painful. He had a hard time walking tonight and cries even if you rub it in the least. And after 11 years of motherhood, I have experienced my first broken bone, not mine, my child's.

I am not sure how it happened I was picking up the younger two from VBS. I thought about sending Mark, but it was only for kids entering 5th grade next fall. I could have lied on the application, but thought..."no that would not be setting a very good example for my son." But maybe if I would have he would not be stuck in a cast for the next six weeks. Anyway, I get a call as I am picking Matthew and Noah up from VBS that I need to get back to the old house because Chris thinks Mark dislocated his shoulder when he fell off his bike. I got home and he was sitting at the table without his shirt on with an ice pack on his wrist (not his shoulder--did the pain migrate?). Being confused I approached Mark and pulled back the ice pack. OHMYGOSH! I did not realize arms could take such a shape! We took him to the ER where they put him through triage and x-rayed him. All the while my dear friend had my younger two, making sure they were fed and entertained. The good news about Mark's arm is once they saw that it was indeed broken he was moved to the top of the list. I cried for him. He had so many plans this summer..swimming parties, a waterpark VBS, indoor soccer...on and on. But at the same time I am trying to remember to be grateful that it was not a fractured skull, or a broken jaw. It was a clean break and the ER said they felt it would heal nicely. So after two hours of ER we were done for the night. NO more moving, no more anything. It is now almost 1 AM and I can climb into bed all the while remembering to be thankful for the little blessings.