"Don't ever be too prideful to ask for help. Asking for help when you need it is the wisest thing you can do."- Joyce Meyer
When I decided to go on this mission trip to Ethiopia, I made sure that I could cover my costs. Because the last thing I wanted to do was ask anyone for a donation. I felt like, "hey...if I'm making the decision to go, why should anyone else have to pay for that decision?"
I'm much harder on myself than I am on anyone else because when friends go on mission trips, I'm all too eager to help, to give so that they can go. But for me? Nope. I need to pay my own way.
Then of course, we decided that my daughter should go. That put us in a precarious situation because we're talking thousands of dollars here, like you'd be able to buy a used vehicle for the amount. Obviously, we didn't have that money we needed.
This meant that I would have to do the unthinkable- ask for help. Naturally, I left this as my final option. We sold whatever was not nailed down and could fetch any money, I pimped myself out as a housekeeper, a babysitter, a floor re-finisher. We moved money around on credit cards and we are in the process of re-financing the house in the hopes that it will lower our monthly mortgage payment so that we can pay back some credit cards if we end up using them.
I don't know what I was expecting from people when I started asking for donations. Maybe like a roll of the eyes or a smile that said, "yeah...no." That makes no sense because I am surrounded by some of the most amazing people. They are kind and loving and giving and so while I knew that they would be supportive, I thought that I shouldn't expect that they would be willing to help out.
But what I've received instead has been so surprising, so humbling, so overwhelmingly generous. The other day, a woman (you know who you are) slipped me an envelope and said, "this is for Laila's trip to Ethiopia."
All of the donations I'd received up to that point had been for $25 and to be honest, I thought that amount was amazingly generous- still think it is! Every time I would get $25 from someone I felt like I should go to their house and massage their feet or something. I thanked her, tucked the envelope in my purse and headed out to do some errands.
When I opened up the envelope I was shocked and grateful and flooded with so many emotions that my body broke down and I started to weep- cause that's the only genuine and reasonable response a person can have to that kind of radical generosity. it was a LOT of money.
Every time someone gives a donation I'm left in this place. It's that place you are when 100 people are singing Happy Birthday to you. It's that place you are when all eyes are on you and everyone claps as you receive your diploma. It's that place you are when someone spoon feeds you soup when you're sick. It's that place you were standing when Jesus died on the cross for you. It's a place that you don't feel like you belong yet you're exactly where you're meant to be, it's a place of true humility.
I'm recognizing that it feels altogether uncomfortable to be humbled. I suppose it was never true humility if it wasn't so awkward. After all, you're not totally out of balance if you don't feel like you're about to fall.
If I don't receive one more dime I'll still be eternally grateful that these incredible people would take the time to care, that someone would give of themselves so freely, that someone would think me and Laila are important enough to share with, that someone would love us that way.
I'm so ever grateful for everyone who has been so giving. I love you all and I can't wait to share our experiences with you so that you are just as much as part of our journey as we were. Well, except for that whole thing about being on a plane for 20 hours. You dodged the bullet on that one! :)
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Thursday Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank you for the sunshine this morning; it's warmth, it's light. Thank you that I can get up and move and brush my own teeth and use the bathroom by myself because sometimes I forget that there are a lot of people who can't even do that.
Thank you for this new chance, this new beginning that I get today. I will try my best not to focus on what happened yesterday but on what I am doing right now, at this second and moving forward. I will try my best to make good choices, choices that reflect you.
I want my choices to say, "she must be God's daughter" because they reflect you so clearly.
Thank you for the ability to pay my bills. It's not fun writing checks and seeing money come in and go out so quickly but there is the bill and there is the money to pay for it and it's because of your provision that I have the ability to pay for it. It may not always be this way, there may come a time in my life, as there was in the past, when there is not a penny to be scraped together and I want to savor this moment so that I can remember it, to remember what it feels like to be able to pay a bill in full- and be grateful for it.
Thank you for my children, for the very miracle that they came into this world through me and have made it this far. There are so many things that can take our children from us and so many days I'm focused on the hardships of parenting that I forget what a miracle it is to have them at all. Of course it's hard...anything worth having is hard. I thank you for every single day of their lives, for every breath. Again, it may not always be this way, life is hard and with it come huge and often painful challenges, may I always be as grateful for the time I have been given with them, may I remember to be present and cherish each moment.
Thank you Father, for all the close calls that I don't even know about in the course of my life. There have been times I'm sure that you've saved me from countless troubles and accidents and near-death experiences. You've held me safe in your hands. The very fact that I'm here right now in one piece, writing this, is a testament to your provision and protection. Thank you for all that I don't know about, for all you've done in the shadows, in the quietness, for the close calls I didn't even know I had.
Thank you for Mamaw, for leaving me with a mother-in-law even though you took my mom. I love her very much. I pray that you give her health that lasts for years and years. I can't imagine losing another mom. I miss my mom very much although I thank you for the comfort you've given me during these last five years. The amount of healing that's transpired is nothing short of miraculous. I feel like I went from a gaping hole in my chest that was bleeding profusely to a completely healed body with a scar that's barely noticeable. I did not do that, you did that. It's amazing.
I thank you for this husband of mine who tries so hard every day, who will go to work all day and still help me construct a cardboard stove for a Girl Scout event before he heads out to a meeting because he knows that I'm overwhelmed. He does things like this because he loves me so much and it shows me- teaches me how to love in return. He strives to make me happy and it inspires me to strive in all of my relationships- for him, my kids, my friends but especially for You.
Father, I have so much to do that when I look ahead I almost feel like collapsing, like throwing everything in the air and giving up. Help me to remember that I need only get through this one task, this one day. Remind me that you're standing right next to me and that I'm going to get through it and it will all be okay and if it isn't, it'll still be okay. Help me to take a deep breath and still my mind, to harness all of the thoughts that run around in my head like a bunch of out of control kindergarteners. Help me to blow the whistle and tell them to get in line, keep their hands to themselves and walk quietly, one at a time.
I ask this in your name,
Amen
Thank you for the sunshine this morning; it's warmth, it's light. Thank you that I can get up and move and brush my own teeth and use the bathroom by myself because sometimes I forget that there are a lot of people who can't even do that.
Thank you for this new chance, this new beginning that I get today. I will try my best not to focus on what happened yesterday but on what I am doing right now, at this second and moving forward. I will try my best to make good choices, choices that reflect you.
I want my choices to say, "she must be God's daughter" because they reflect you so clearly.
Thank you for the ability to pay my bills. It's not fun writing checks and seeing money come in and go out so quickly but there is the bill and there is the money to pay for it and it's because of your provision that I have the ability to pay for it. It may not always be this way, there may come a time in my life, as there was in the past, when there is not a penny to be scraped together and I want to savor this moment so that I can remember it, to remember what it feels like to be able to pay a bill in full- and be grateful for it.
Thank you for my children, for the very miracle that they came into this world through me and have made it this far. There are so many things that can take our children from us and so many days I'm focused on the hardships of parenting that I forget what a miracle it is to have them at all. Of course it's hard...anything worth having is hard. I thank you for every single day of their lives, for every breath. Again, it may not always be this way, life is hard and with it come huge and often painful challenges, may I always be as grateful for the time I have been given with them, may I remember to be present and cherish each moment.
Thank you Father, for all the close calls that I don't even know about in the course of my life. There have been times I'm sure that you've saved me from countless troubles and accidents and near-death experiences. You've held me safe in your hands. The very fact that I'm here right now in one piece, writing this, is a testament to your provision and protection. Thank you for all that I don't know about, for all you've done in the shadows, in the quietness, for the close calls I didn't even know I had.
Thank you for Mamaw, for leaving me with a mother-in-law even though you took my mom. I love her very much. I pray that you give her health that lasts for years and years. I can't imagine losing another mom. I miss my mom very much although I thank you for the comfort you've given me during these last five years. The amount of healing that's transpired is nothing short of miraculous. I feel like I went from a gaping hole in my chest that was bleeding profusely to a completely healed body with a scar that's barely noticeable. I did not do that, you did that. It's amazing.
I thank you for this husband of mine who tries so hard every day, who will go to work all day and still help me construct a cardboard stove for a Girl Scout event before he heads out to a meeting because he knows that I'm overwhelmed. He does things like this because he loves me so much and it shows me- teaches me how to love in return. He strives to make me happy and it inspires me to strive in all of my relationships- for him, my kids, my friends but especially for You.
Father, I have so much to do that when I look ahead I almost feel like collapsing, like throwing everything in the air and giving up. Help me to remember that I need only get through this one task, this one day. Remind me that you're standing right next to me and that I'm going to get through it and it will all be okay and if it isn't, it'll still be okay. Help me to take a deep breath and still my mind, to harness all of the thoughts that run around in my head like a bunch of out of control kindergarteners. Help me to blow the whistle and tell them to get in line, keep their hands to themselves and walk quietly, one at a time.
I ask this in your name,
Amen
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Making My Children Into Golden Calves
This Friday, it's special person's day at my son's school. Mamaw (my mother in law) has always been the chosen one to receive this special honor, to accompany the kids as their special person. It's always cute to watch them guiding her (literally-she's blind) through their school and "showing her" the cafeteria and the computer rooms and so on. Poor Mamaw always comes home bruised and battered from them leading her into concrete walls and wood doors.
Mamaw's been invited the last two years running so you can imagine my surprise when my son asked me! I'm his "special person". I felt so honored, so loved, so special. "Of course I'll be your special person, baby!", I said to him. I started thinking about making plans for this awesome day when it dawned on me- special person day just happens to coincide with my Friday bible study.
At the start of our study, my co-leader and I made it clear that we considered absences as kind of a big deal. We simply wanted everyone to prioritize the study and while we understood that not everyone would be able to make every day, we didn't want anyone deciding to schedule their pedicures or making lunch dates on that day because it was the only time that suited them. We didn't want to be sticklers but this needed pointed out as in the past we've heard some colorful excuses for missing bible study!
One of the moms in the group called, a little worried that her son's school had scheduled something for that day and she was afraid we were going to kick her out of the study! We must have come across so hard core! Like...this is some serious bible study here ladies, and all truants will be beaten with a swatch, tied to a post and roasted over a fire!
Of course we'd never kick anyone out of study! We totally understand that it was scheduled out from under her feet and she had no control over it.
"Your kids come first", is what I said to her. "We totally understand. See you in a couple of weeks."
So, when I was in the same predicament with this special person's day thing, I offered myself the same understanding words. "Your kids come first, Licha." On Sunday, I told my co-leader that I wouldn't be attending study and while she was disappointed, she echoed my sentiment.
But then I felt this inner sort of conviction, a thought that I know to interpret as God's voice because it's gentle and true, yet so hard to hear because it goes against what I want to do.
It was a simple question, "Is it wise to always put your kids ahead of Me (God)?"
It made me start to think about my tendency to put my kids ahead of God all the time! All of my time is invested in caring for them and it's usually at the cost of spending time with Him. I put them in first place at almost every turn and honestly, if given the choice, I would most always choose my kids.
This makes sense, right? I mean...they're my KIDS! It's my responsibility to take care of them. They are a blessing and He's entrusted them to me and I'm honoring him by doing that! Right? It's important to put them first and what if Carter gets his feelings hurt?
Except, that's a pile of flaming turds. Excuses, excuses, excuses.
True, it's my charge to feed and clothe and teach them but all that other stuff that I bog myself down with that steals my time from God, that stuff that when in conversations with other women I say, "oh these kids keep me so busy", all that stuff is fluff, fluff that I knowingly and willingly create and left unchecked, does a pretty good job of putting up a barrier between me and God.
All those activities that require carpools, all those birthday parties scheduled on a Sunday right in the middle of church, all those times when I say I couldn't spend time in prayer or in the word because the kids were around and driving me to Bonkerville.
If I really wanted to, I could make time for him but the truth is, the kids are a pretty good excuse to not be investing time in my relationship with Him. I really need to stop doing that because my relationship with him is tender. That's the best way I can describe it because while it's unbreakable, it's so very delicate. It's like trying to balance a broken egg yolk in my hands. I have to keep constant attention to it because if not, it will slip right through my fingers.
Just as getting caught up with the kids at the expense of a husband can ruin a marriage, so can getting caught up with the kids at the expense of God ruin my life. Kids can be all consuming for women and when things get out of balance, it can actually be pretty unhealthy to invest so much in these little bundles of joy. I can't keep putting it off "until the kids get older" because here's the thing, I'm not guaranteed tomorrow.
Also, in devoting myself so completely to my children I'm hurting them.
Spoil The Child
Even though we don't give our kids everything they want in terms of material stuff or letting do what they want, we've spoiled them in other ways, mainly in the way of making them feel that they are priority numero uno. Of course they are important but do they always have to come first? I don't think so. They need to know that sometimes it's okay to be patient, that sometimes it's okay to put others first and not expect immediate gratification. Entitlement is like a drug and our kids are getting addicted because we feed their junky habits by catering to their every need.
Telling my kids that I'm off limits for a certain amount of time per day because I'm spending time with God is actually a good thing. They need to learn that they can't interrupt me because they are fighting with their siblings or because they can't reach the cereal on the top shelf of the pantry. They won't starve in the course of an hour. A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone, in fact, it can be pretty darned good for them!
Setting A Good Example
If I expect my kids to grow up to be adults who know how to spend time with God and make him a priority, don't I need to be setting an example of that? Of course I do.
Right now, I'm teaching them to run around harried at the last minute, frantically searching for tap shoes so that we can make it to dance class on time. I'm teaching them to over schedule themselves. I'm teaching them to keep their priorities out of whack. I'm teaching them how to be so exhausted at the end of the day that they collapse without having said a bedtime prayer. I'm teaching them that Sunday is for devotion but that the rest of the week is too busy for God. I know...pretty unflattering yet so very true.
My bible study is six weeks, that's all...SIX WEEKS and it comes before my family is taking a month long trip where we'll be together with plenty of time to connect and make special time and I can't sacrifice an hour and a half for one day?
You understand that I really don't want to miss special person's day, that I absolutely hate that though he picked me, I chose God instead but it must be done. I said this to my son:
"Baby, I am so honored that you chose me to be your special person. You are my special person too. But I made a commitment to God for six weeks and I can't break that promise. It's so important for me to spend time with him, to honor my promises to him. You are super important to me and we can do something special that night just you and me."
He was like, "that's cool, you're still my special person." *tears*
My husband is going to be his special person, which is a good thing because Daddy never gets picked for stuff like that, it's actually going to be a thrill for him and they'll have a great time, I'm sure.
I'm still questioning myself- did I make the right decision? If it's the right decision then why does it make me feel like a horrible mom? Ultimately, Carter will survive my not going to special person's day. Next year, I'll be sure not to plan a study on that day!
Honestly, I don't think God wants me to sacrifice every moment of my children's life for him. He gave them to me so that I might enjoy and love them, but he did need to teach me a lesson- that I have to keep a watchful eye lest I cover my children in gold paint and make them into my idols.
Mamaw's been invited the last two years running so you can imagine my surprise when my son asked me! I'm his "special person". I felt so honored, so loved, so special. "Of course I'll be your special person, baby!", I said to him. I started thinking about making plans for this awesome day when it dawned on me- special person day just happens to coincide with my Friday bible study.
At the start of our study, my co-leader and I made it clear that we considered absences as kind of a big deal. We simply wanted everyone to prioritize the study and while we understood that not everyone would be able to make every day, we didn't want anyone deciding to schedule their pedicures or making lunch dates on that day because it was the only time that suited them. We didn't want to be sticklers but this needed pointed out as in the past we've heard some colorful excuses for missing bible study!
One of the moms in the group called, a little worried that her son's school had scheduled something for that day and she was afraid we were going to kick her out of the study! We must have come across so hard core! Like...this is some serious bible study here ladies, and all truants will be beaten with a swatch, tied to a post and roasted over a fire!
Of course we'd never kick anyone out of study! We totally understand that it was scheduled out from under her feet and she had no control over it.
"Your kids come first", is what I said to her. "We totally understand. See you in a couple of weeks."
So, when I was in the same predicament with this special person's day thing, I offered myself the same understanding words. "Your kids come first, Licha." On Sunday, I told my co-leader that I wouldn't be attending study and while she was disappointed, she echoed my sentiment.
But then I felt this inner sort of conviction, a thought that I know to interpret as God's voice because it's gentle and true, yet so hard to hear because it goes against what I want to do.
It was a simple question, "Is it wise to always put your kids ahead of Me (God)?"
It made me start to think about my tendency to put my kids ahead of God all the time! All of my time is invested in caring for them and it's usually at the cost of spending time with Him. I put them in first place at almost every turn and honestly, if given the choice, I would most always choose my kids.
This makes sense, right? I mean...they're my KIDS! It's my responsibility to take care of them. They are a blessing and He's entrusted them to me and I'm honoring him by doing that! Right? It's important to put them first and what if Carter gets his feelings hurt?
Except, that's a pile of flaming turds. Excuses, excuses, excuses.
True, it's my charge to feed and clothe and teach them but all that other stuff that I bog myself down with that steals my time from God, that stuff that when in conversations with other women I say, "oh these kids keep me so busy", all that stuff is fluff, fluff that I knowingly and willingly create and left unchecked, does a pretty good job of putting up a barrier between me and God.
All those activities that require carpools, all those birthday parties scheduled on a Sunday right in the middle of church, all those times when I say I couldn't spend time in prayer or in the word because the kids were around and driving me to Bonkerville.
If I really wanted to, I could make time for him but the truth is, the kids are a pretty good excuse to not be investing time in my relationship with Him. I really need to stop doing that because my relationship with him is tender. That's the best way I can describe it because while it's unbreakable, it's so very delicate. It's like trying to balance a broken egg yolk in my hands. I have to keep constant attention to it because if not, it will slip right through my fingers.
Just as getting caught up with the kids at the expense of a husband can ruin a marriage, so can getting caught up with the kids at the expense of God ruin my life. Kids can be all consuming for women and when things get out of balance, it can actually be pretty unhealthy to invest so much in these little bundles of joy. I can't keep putting it off "until the kids get older" because here's the thing, I'm not guaranteed tomorrow.
Also, in devoting myself so completely to my children I'm hurting them.
Spoil The Child
Even though we don't give our kids everything they want in terms of material stuff or letting do what they want, we've spoiled them in other ways, mainly in the way of making them feel that they are priority numero uno. Of course they are important but do they always have to come first? I don't think so. They need to know that sometimes it's okay to be patient, that sometimes it's okay to put others first and not expect immediate gratification. Entitlement is like a drug and our kids are getting addicted because we feed their junky habits by catering to their every need.
Telling my kids that I'm off limits for a certain amount of time per day because I'm spending time with God is actually a good thing. They need to learn that they can't interrupt me because they are fighting with their siblings or because they can't reach the cereal on the top shelf of the pantry. They won't starve in the course of an hour. A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone, in fact, it can be pretty darned good for them!
Setting A Good Example
If I expect my kids to grow up to be adults who know how to spend time with God and make him a priority, don't I need to be setting an example of that? Of course I do.
Right now, I'm teaching them to run around harried at the last minute, frantically searching for tap shoes so that we can make it to dance class on time. I'm teaching them to over schedule themselves. I'm teaching them to keep their priorities out of whack. I'm teaching them how to be so exhausted at the end of the day that they collapse without having said a bedtime prayer. I'm teaching them that Sunday is for devotion but that the rest of the week is too busy for God. I know...pretty unflattering yet so very true.
My bible study is six weeks, that's all...SIX WEEKS and it comes before my family is taking a month long trip where we'll be together with plenty of time to connect and make special time and I can't sacrifice an hour and a half for one day?
You understand that I really don't want to miss special person's day, that I absolutely hate that though he picked me, I chose God instead but it must be done. I said this to my son:
"Baby, I am so honored that you chose me to be your special person. You are my special person too. But I made a commitment to God for six weeks and I can't break that promise. It's so important for me to spend time with him, to honor my promises to him. You are super important to me and we can do something special that night just you and me."
He was like, "that's cool, you're still my special person." *tears*
My husband is going to be his special person, which is a good thing because Daddy never gets picked for stuff like that, it's actually going to be a thrill for him and they'll have a great time, I'm sure.
I'm still questioning myself- did I make the right decision? If it's the right decision then why does it make me feel like a horrible mom? Ultimately, Carter will survive my not going to special person's day. Next year, I'll be sure not to plan a study on that day!
Honestly, I don't think God wants me to sacrifice every moment of my children's life for him. He gave them to me so that I might enjoy and love them, but he did need to teach me a lesson- that I have to keep a watchful eye lest I cover my children in gold paint and make them into my idols.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
A Getwawy With My Honey
Last Saturday, after the girls and I ran in the Color Me Rad race in Hartford, I rushed home, scrubbed as much color off of me as possible and boarded a plane to Vegas.
My husband goes to a conference there every April and he's been asking me to go for years. I've never gone because I can't ever seem to leave the kids. As much as I complain about those little punks, darned if I can't stand to be away from them.
The last time we were in Vegas together was for our wedding twelve years ago.
I almost bailed at the last minute when the panic of leaving the kids set in, but eventually, with the help of my husband's begging and a friend's advice, I decided that I needed to go, that my husband is important and that my kids were going to be fine. That's not an easy thing to do- to convince a mom who hasn't left her children's side like, ever, to go away and trust that they'll be alive when I return.
It made sense to take this little jaunt because my husband's company was footing the bill. I mean, if the hotel is already expensed, why not use that to our advantage, right? It was remarkably inexpensive as we don't gamble, drink or shop. I know, right? Who goes to Vegas and doesn't gamble, drink or shop? Apparently we do! Honestly, with trying to save as much money as possible for our upcoming mission trip, it was already a hard thing to convince me that it was worth the cost of the plane ticket! In hindsight, I would pawn my wedding ring to make up for the expense because as it turns out, it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes you don't realize how much you need a break until you get one.
As it turns out, you can do Vegas for pennies if you try hard enough. There is so much to see and do that doesn't cost anything. We toured the Hoover Dam, we walked up and down the strip and watched the volcano show at the Mirage and the water show at the Bellagio.
We people watched...which in Vegas is like one of the best forms of entertainment available. You'll see everything from street performers to half naked wedding parties dancing Gangam style in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard.
I sat by the pool and took naps and overall indulged in the nothingness that comes from being on a vacation. For a mom whose cleaning never seems to end, one of the highlights of my day was coming back to the hotel room to a fluffed bed and my flip flops lined up in a row along the wall.
The best part? Just being with my husband. Do you know how long it's been since we've been alone? Alone to where we can have a conversation without being interrupted. Alone to where we can make love without the fear of someone walking in-which always seem to happen by the way. It's like those kids have an alarm that goes off in their head every time their father's hand reaches for me.
It's been a long time and as we sat across from each other without distraction, I was reminded how nostalgic I'd become for the deep brownness of his eyes and his long, feathered eyelashes. I used to stare into them for hours until my own eyes became blurry from sleep deprivation. Since the kids came along my eyes have set up camp on their wobbly feet and sticky fingers. I've been so in love with their perfection that I've forgotten the source of my love for them, their father's soft and loving eyes.
It was nice to be in silence, in stillness, in slowness. I did things like take long showers, do my hair, put on my makeup and look NICE! I hardly remembered how to do any of those things. Not that I can't do them on a regular basis, it's just so difficult to weild a brow pencil when I'm juggling so many other things.
Even though it was only a few days, it felt great to get away, to see new things and spend some quality time with my honey. It reminds me that we need to do that more often, perhaps not all the way to Vegas but that it's important to be alone from time to time. That we owe it to ourselves to look each other in the eyes and have a conversation, to make each other giggle and hold hands tightly. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him until I had him all to myself. It's good for the kids too.
This was re-confirmed this morning when my kids got up by themselves, got dressed without prompting, made their own breakfasts without complaining, got ready for school on their own and even cleaned up after themselves. Clearly Mama needs to get away more often!
My husband goes to a conference there every April and he's been asking me to go for years. I've never gone because I can't ever seem to leave the kids. As much as I complain about those little punks, darned if I can't stand to be away from them.
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| Me and Lady M at Froyo World |
The last time we were in Vegas together was for our wedding twelve years ago.
I almost bailed at the last minute when the panic of leaving the kids set in, but eventually, with the help of my husband's begging and a friend's advice, I decided that I needed to go, that my husband is important and that my kids were going to be fine. That's not an easy thing to do- to convince a mom who hasn't left her children's side like, ever, to go away and trust that they'll be alive when I return.
It made sense to take this little jaunt because my husband's company was footing the bill. I mean, if the hotel is already expensed, why not use that to our advantage, right? It was remarkably inexpensive as we don't gamble, drink or shop. I know, right? Who goes to Vegas and doesn't gamble, drink or shop? Apparently we do! Honestly, with trying to save as much money as possible for our upcoming mission trip, it was already a hard thing to convince me that it was worth the cost of the plane ticket! In hindsight, I would pawn my wedding ring to make up for the expense because as it turns out, it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes you don't realize how much you need a break until you get one.
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| At Memorial Bridge- Hoover Dam |
As it turns out, you can do Vegas for pennies if you try hard enough. There is so much to see and do that doesn't cost anything. We toured the Hoover Dam, we walked up and down the strip and watched the volcano show at the Mirage and the water show at the Bellagio.
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| Hoover Dam |
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| Lake Meade from 15,000 feet |
We people watched...which in Vegas is like one of the best forms of entertainment available. You'll see everything from street performers to half naked wedding parties dancing Gangam style in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard.
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| Paris Hotel at night |
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| Treasure Island |
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| Eiffel Tower. We went to the top. One of the best views in Vegas! |
I sat by the pool and took naps and overall indulged in the nothingness that comes from being on a vacation. For a mom whose cleaning never seems to end, one of the highlights of my day was coming back to the hotel room to a fluffed bed and my flip flops lined up in a row along the wall.
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| At the pool, Palazzo |
The best part? Just being with my husband. Do you know how long it's been since we've been alone? Alone to where we can have a conversation without being interrupted. Alone to where we can make love without the fear of someone walking in-which always seem to happen by the way. It's like those kids have an alarm that goes off in their head every time their father's hand reaches for me.
It's been a long time and as we sat across from each other without distraction, I was reminded how nostalgic I'd become for the deep brownness of his eyes and his long, feathered eyelashes. I used to stare into them for hours until my own eyes became blurry from sleep deprivation. Since the kids came along my eyes have set up camp on their wobbly feet and sticky fingers. I've been so in love with their perfection that I've forgotten the source of my love for them, their father's soft and loving eyes.
It was nice to be in silence, in stillness, in slowness. I did things like take long showers, do my hair, put on my makeup and look NICE! I hardly remembered how to do any of those things. Not that I can't do them on a regular basis, it's just so difficult to weild a brow pencil when I'm juggling so many other things.
Even though it was only a few days, it felt great to get away, to see new things and spend some quality time with my honey. It reminds me that we need to do that more often, perhaps not all the way to Vegas but that it's important to be alone from time to time. That we owe it to ourselves to look each other in the eyes and have a conversation, to make each other giggle and hold hands tightly. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him until I had him all to myself. It's good for the kids too.
This was re-confirmed this morning when my kids got up by themselves, got dressed without prompting, made their own breakfasts without complaining, got ready for school on their own and even cleaned up after themselves. Clearly Mama needs to get away more often!
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Sending Laila To Africa
Last week, Hal went to Columbus to pay his respects to his cousin Buddy who passed away on the 9th. He was gone for four days. We are not the kind of family that does well when we are separated. Those families where one of the spouses travels every month? Those families who sacrifice because one of them is defending our country? Don't know how they do it. I just...can't even imagine.
Perhaps you get used to it, I don't know but it boggles my mind because I always feel a huge amount of phantom amputation pain when one of us is missing.
He returned on Monday evening, safely praise God, just about the time that Carter and I were taking Maryn to dance class. I wondered if I'd pass him on the highway; him going home, me leaving home, ships passing in the evening rush hour.
Then it occurred to me that there was a good chance he would stop by the dance studio...because that's just something he'd do. I know my husband so well and he is the embodiment of love. Once, when I was returning to Pennsylvania after a trip to LA, there was a snow storm that grounded our plane in DC. I called him to say I wouldn't be in that night, that I would be in the next morning and that the airline was putting me up in a hotel. Later that night when I was tucked into my bed I heard a knock on my door. It was him. He'd traveled from Harrisburg, PA to DC in the middle of the night, in 3 foot snow drifts, just to be with me. Because six more hours was just too much to wait. That's my husband.
He wouldn't go home and embrace the silence of an empty house after a long flight. He wouldn't take that time to get a nice hot shower, unpack and sink into the bed he missed so much. He'd show up at the dance studio.
Of course, I didn't know if he'd do this for sure but I knew there was a good chance and the possibility of it made me smile.
We got to the studio, made a payment and just about had Maryn's last shoe buckled when he walked in. Of course he did. Because I married an amazing man who loves his family more than anything. We all ran to him, dropping a trail of shoes, purses, iphones and stuffed animals in our wake. I grabbed him around the neck, Maryn grabbed one leg, Carter grabbed the other. It was a sight to behold and I'm sure that every father in that joint was all, "dude...why don't I ever get such an impassioned reception when my family sees me!?"
It's good to have him by my side again.
I was thinking about this when I started to worry about just how we're going to pay for Laila to go on this mission trip to Ethipia with me. We don't have the money, plain and simple and while on one hand I'm so happy that I had enough faith to jump in before running the math, there's another side of me, the angry accountant side, who is throwing a hissy fit for not doing the numbers first!
But I know my God, just like I know my husband. I know his tendencies, how much he loves me. I don't know for sure what he'll do, just like I didn't know Hal would for sure show up at that dance studio. But I know who he is and that he won't just leave me out in the cold, he won't make it hard on me. He's going to do something amazing. He'll make sure we have every dime we need. Of course he will. Because I serve a God that loves me more than anything. There is a really good chance he'll be right there when I need him and the possibility of that makes me smile.
I'm working on a few fundraising ideas. We're doing dog walking in the neighborhood, Laila's going to ask for donations instead of presents for her birthday and I'm in the midst of planning a family field day at our town riverfront so that families can join us for a host of silly and fun games in the sun with a small registration fee that will go a long way! Our goal is $2000, an amount that won't even cover the cost of her airfare, never mind her in country expenses, vaccinations and travel money.
If you'd like to donate you can click HERE.
I'm just starting to wrap my head around asking people for money for a missions trip. I've helped countless friends trek around the globe but now that the shoe is on the other foot, I feel all vulnerable and nervous and awkward. I'm sure God is teaching me a lesson in this, a lesson of humility and that I need other people, that it's okay to let others help me and that being in that situation doesn't mean I'm inferior or even that I owe someone.
I'll keep you guys posted about the fundraisers and let you know how things go. Obviously, you will have a front row seat to the trip as well as I will be blogging up to the moment we go. When we get back, I'm sure there will be plenty of pictures and stories to tell. To view pictures of our church's last trip to Jido, click HERE.
Thanks so much. Thanks for reading this, for even thinking about donating, for your prayers that undoubtedly sustain us. I'm finding that generosity is what love feels like. It's in generosity and love that my husband put his own needs aside, to have a desire to be with us that was so strong that he couldn't help but find us before going home. It's in generosity that I show others how much I love them, the giving of my time and talents and money. It truly is nice to give than to receive but on the receiving end, I'm finding that the love is almost too much to handle, it's so big that it brings me to my knees and leaves me in tears.
The truth is that it's good to be on either side of the giving because either way, you're on love's side.
Perhaps you get used to it, I don't know but it boggles my mind because I always feel a huge amount of phantom amputation pain when one of us is missing.
He returned on Monday evening, safely praise God, just about the time that Carter and I were taking Maryn to dance class. I wondered if I'd pass him on the highway; him going home, me leaving home, ships passing in the evening rush hour.
Then it occurred to me that there was a good chance he would stop by the dance studio...because that's just something he'd do. I know my husband so well and he is the embodiment of love. Once, when I was returning to Pennsylvania after a trip to LA, there was a snow storm that grounded our plane in DC. I called him to say I wouldn't be in that night, that I would be in the next morning and that the airline was putting me up in a hotel. Later that night when I was tucked into my bed I heard a knock on my door. It was him. He'd traveled from Harrisburg, PA to DC in the middle of the night, in 3 foot snow drifts, just to be with me. Because six more hours was just too much to wait. That's my husband.
He wouldn't go home and embrace the silence of an empty house after a long flight. He wouldn't take that time to get a nice hot shower, unpack and sink into the bed he missed so much. He'd show up at the dance studio.
Of course, I didn't know if he'd do this for sure but I knew there was a good chance and the possibility of it made me smile.
We got to the studio, made a payment and just about had Maryn's last shoe buckled when he walked in. Of course he did. Because I married an amazing man who loves his family more than anything. We all ran to him, dropping a trail of shoes, purses, iphones and stuffed animals in our wake. I grabbed him around the neck, Maryn grabbed one leg, Carter grabbed the other. It was a sight to behold and I'm sure that every father in that joint was all, "dude...why don't I ever get such an impassioned reception when my family sees me!?"
It's good to have him by my side again.
I was thinking about this when I started to worry about just how we're going to pay for Laila to go on this mission trip to Ethipia with me. We don't have the money, plain and simple and while on one hand I'm so happy that I had enough faith to jump in before running the math, there's another side of me, the angry accountant side, who is throwing a hissy fit for not doing the numbers first!
But I know my God, just like I know my husband. I know his tendencies, how much he loves me. I don't know for sure what he'll do, just like I didn't know Hal would for sure show up at that dance studio. But I know who he is and that he won't just leave me out in the cold, he won't make it hard on me. He's going to do something amazing. He'll make sure we have every dime we need. Of course he will. Because I serve a God that loves me more than anything. There is a really good chance he'll be right there when I need him and the possibility of that makes me smile.
I'm working on a few fundraising ideas. We're doing dog walking in the neighborhood, Laila's going to ask for donations instead of presents for her birthday and I'm in the midst of planning a family field day at our town riverfront so that families can join us for a host of silly and fun games in the sun with a small registration fee that will go a long way! Our goal is $2000, an amount that won't even cover the cost of her airfare, never mind her in country expenses, vaccinations and travel money.
If you'd like to donate you can click HERE.
I'm just starting to wrap my head around asking people for money for a missions trip. I've helped countless friends trek around the globe but now that the shoe is on the other foot, I feel all vulnerable and nervous and awkward. I'm sure God is teaching me a lesson in this, a lesson of humility and that I need other people, that it's okay to let others help me and that being in that situation doesn't mean I'm inferior or even that I owe someone.
I'll keep you guys posted about the fundraisers and let you know how things go. Obviously, you will have a front row seat to the trip as well as I will be blogging up to the moment we go. When we get back, I'm sure there will be plenty of pictures and stories to tell. To view pictures of our church's last trip to Jido, click HERE.
Thanks so much. Thanks for reading this, for even thinking about donating, for your prayers that undoubtedly sustain us. I'm finding that generosity is what love feels like. It's in generosity and love that my husband put his own needs aside, to have a desire to be with us that was so strong that he couldn't help but find us before going home. It's in generosity that I show others how much I love them, the giving of my time and talents and money. It truly is nice to give than to receive but on the receiving end, I'm finding that the love is almost too much to handle, it's so big that it brings me to my knees and leaves me in tears.
The truth is that it's good to be on either side of the giving because either way, you're on love's side.
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