Deposit Your 2 Cents Here

Some of you have said that you have had trouble leaving a comment on my site. Being the blogging novice that I am, I had the blog set on the most impossible comment settings possible, and I didn't even know it. I have changed the settings now, and you should be able to comment with ease these days. When you get the comment window, type in your comment, type in the weird looking security word (some anti-spam feature), and then click Name/URL. Type your name and Publish Your Comment.

So, see if that helps any, and I would love for you to join the dialogue.

Jump in and holla at me!

Candor

We don't really have much use for it from other people, do we? Like, I really don't want people to tell me that my hair looks awful as I am letting it grow out (it does, I know, and there are imminent plans to cut it off! I'm a short hair girl). But there is this one girl at the gym who faithfully does just that; she does not like my hair like this and she tells me. She is one of those people who casts honesty wherever she is; I expect to get that from her, and I even appreciate it in a very weird way. There's just something pure about a person shooting straight with you. Not in a hurtful inappropriate way, but in a way that totally bunks polite fibbin'. And I can take it from her because she loves my hair short. She would often gush about my short locks, so I know where she's coming from.

A friend and I are kinda hashing through some hurt that has happened in our friendship, and we are doing it with love and candor. It's uncomfortable and unsettling. I wince at hearing some of her feelings, but she is totally sharing out of her care for me and her desire to reconcile our relationship. I can dig that. I can respond to that. There's something that makes me feel very alive to peel away all the layers of superficial interaction, to put aside all the polite fibbin' and really communicate on a heart level with someone else. Neither of us knows what this may look like in the end, but at this point I feel that we are approaching it in the right way. So, we'll see...

I think somewhere in the closets of our hearts we do appreciate (in a very weird way) somebody speaking truth into our lives, BUT resist the urge to open up a can of candor with me about the five pounds I gained while Chris was out of town. I know already, but thanks the same...

Homestead Happenin's

It's probably not very easy to forget that you are reading the blog of a former English teacher. Do you hate my dorky alliterative titles, or what? Sorry, I love 'em ;-)

Just wanted to catch you up to speed on life at the Cawthon ranch. Chris is home from Salt Lake City; wahooooooooooooooooo! We have enjoyed (not so much) an awkward weekend where we are transitioning back into cohabitation. Two weeks is long enough where you kinda develop a new routine without the other person, so we're reprogramming back into our normal life again. The two weeks actually flew by and God was so good on both sides of the separation, but Chris and I reunited with very different wants and needs. He had been confined to the same hotel room (where somebody came in and cleaned up for him everyday; no, I'm not bitter) and is ready to be home, enjoy the comforts of home, just stay at home. I, on the hand, have seen more than my share of the 972 pineapples on my kitchen wallpaper, thank you very much! If you've been to my house, you know what I'm screamin'. He is exhausted from all the required dinners (at exotic, expensive restaurants; still not bitter) and the forced interaction, and I am starved for interaction with people taller than 3 feet. He wants family time, and I could honestly stand a break from meal time, bath time, play time, meltdown time, etc... So we've been in the same house since Friday night, but we've just arrived on the same page (after a terse discussion or two) on Sunday night. Both of us are elated he is home!!

However, he comes home to a bonus room free of air conditioning. It is literally 85 degrees up there now at 10:19 pm. And that's where my computer resides. I am downstairs on Chris's computer, and he is on mine (very, very sweet fella) upstairs with the window open. Our most annoying cat, Samson, did sneak out onto the roof, but has made a safe reentry.

Chris also came home to a mysterious leak somewhere between the girls' bathroom and Carson's room. There is a large area of carpet in her room that has been soaked for days. Call me totally distracted, frazzled, and borderline idiotic, but for a few days I thought Campbell spilled a cup of water and then that Carson stood in her room without drying off from her bath, etc... I may be confronted with a cartoon wall of water in the morning when I open her door to wake her and find her floating, sleeping in oblivion up by the ceiling fan.

Campbell has been an asymptomatic carrier of strep for over a week now. She has been on meds for more than 24 hours, but she also went to school last week and contaminated the Older Two's class :-( I didn't know........

Are you feeling sorry for my husband? I am too as I type this. Certainly hasn't been a Hallmark homecoming, oh well... Sometimes life is hilarious (I'm on fire tonight with h alliteration. Was thinking 'bout adding Hilarious to the title of this post - think I'll spare you this time...)

Over and out.

Representin'

I have a friend who is a high school English teacher and a mom, so she's got the hookup if you're looking for a sitter or a teen-for-hire. She recommended one of her students to a local business in town, and the student was hired. As the student prepared to start the new job, my friend cautioned her to do a good job. "Since I recommended you, my name's on the line here."

I'm even like that a little with my children. When they leave their manners tucked in their sock drawers, to some degree that reflects on me as a parent, or at least I feel like it does.

And I've been a little freaked out about this whole concept the past few days. As I put my words out here on a somewhat regular basis and as I write for She, I am more public than I have ever been. And as I write about my life, my experiences with God, and those of other people, I am going pretty public as a Christ follower. Now I am honored and humbled to hang that sign around my neck and to wear that T-shirt, but it also means carrying around a cinder block in my belly a lot of the times too. I get so anxious I almost throw up when I stare into the screen and think, "His name's on the line here." Or when I have daymares about the repercussions of gettin' testy with a store clerk, pretending not to see an acquaintance I don't want to chat with, or indulging in gossip with other moms.

Now I know that He is totally sovereign. That I am not able to mess up His plan. That there is grace because I am not perfect. BUT I also know that I can hinder the cause of Christ by wearing the T-shirt while acting in a way that is inconsistent with His character.

So it is my prayer that I do not dishonor His name in my efforts to share His work in my life. And I am seeking the precarious balance of doing right by all people (according to His commands) without believing that I have to please everyone. I'm a firstborn; it's my natural inclination to want to please people. But God clearly lays out that His ways are not the ways of man, so I can't play both sides of the field and hope all that works out okay in the end.

Got the T-shirt. Wearin' it with pride. Prayin' I don't stain it in the process...

Endnote: My nickname as a child was Messmaker, and I've already shared my tendency to collect food stains. You get my drift?

The Procession

An endless line of car after car after truck after jeep after car. A smileless line that stretches as far as I can see. Some headlights burning, others not. Somber and grave faces. Big sunglasses abound. A few apply make-up to eyes still puffy and swollen. Several sip on coffee and many clutch cell phones to their ears. One teen tunes out everything with headphones attached to his head, and another reads a book as they file slowly toward their destination. A funereal march of ants, really.

Glad my rotation on the commute to school is over tomorrow!!!

Props to Pastor P

Tonight I have to shamelessly plug Perry Noble's last two sermons. For those who may not know, Perry is the senior pastor at NewSpring Church, and he is preaching a series entitled Sex, Money, & Power: The Man Series. You can watch the services online, and I absolutely recommend that you and your beloved take in these two together.

I watched "Body Language" Saturday night, and it was frighteningly enlightening. The message deals with the sexual temptations that all men face, and I think for the most part that we as women are totally clueless about this struggle in the lives of our husbands. And we probably prefer not to even go there, but I think it's healthy and necessary to understand our men better and to understand how to pray for them and to better understand how to protect our marriages.

I listened to "What She Really Wants You to Know About Sex" today at the gym. Title is pretty self explanatory. Yep, I thought that would keep me interested while I exercised. It did not disappoint. Pastor P called it right; I agreed with 100% of what he said. I have attempted to communicate many of his points to Chris over the course of our ten year marriage, but I could have never packaged it as precisely and concisely as he did. Kinda freaky that he did it so well.

Take me up on the suggestion; you won't be sorry you did. And if you can't watch them together, watch them alone - but watch them! Very good stuff... Very funny stuff... Very practical stuff...

Play that funky music...

I think my runnin' playlist is a work of art. I love tinkering with the order, adding new material, etc... I truly think I am the sculptor of the playlist - taking away from, reshaping, you get the metaphor. And I realize the beauty of it probably rests with the creator. I also realize that this list may tell more about me than I should be willing to share.

Some of my runnin' playlist faves (in no certain order)

1. Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police
2. Blinded by the Light - Manfred Mann's Earth Band (Mark Chapman, the musical genius that he is, got me hooked on this one one Sunday night when we were discussing Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus - no lie!)
3. Let My Love Open the Door - Pete Townshend (also a Chapman special - he put it on a worship cd he made for us - how clever is he?)
4. Rich Girl - Hall & Oates
5. Sir Duke - Stevie Wonder
6. Boogie Shoes - KC and the Sunshine Band
7. The Rubberband Man - The Spinners
8. Eye of the Tiger - Survivor
9. Black Horse and the Cherry Tree - KT Tunstall
10. Come and Get Your Love - Redbone

I get excited to run just so I can listen to my tunes. So whatcha got for me? I would love, love, love any suggestions! This thing is always a work in progress.

Oh yeah, FYI - in my low-key listening time I love stuff by Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, and Amy Winehouse.

Play that funky music, white girl!! ( I am totally adding that song tomorrow...)

What It Means When a Blogger Doesn't Blog

This whole blogging world is so fascinating to me, especially now that I blog. It allows us to creep into somebody's day, brain, or heart and hear things we ordinarily wouldn't. Erika is one of my closest friends, and I see and speak with her several times in a week, but I read her blog every night to see what she's up to and to gauge how she's doing. But what does it mean when a blogger doesn't blog?

Several times Chris has said to me, "Billy Joe Bob hasn't blogged in a few days. I hope everything is going okay." Or while he's out of town he reads my blog and comments, "I saw you didn't blog last night." As if to say, "What's really going on at home?"

It may mean any number of things. She's incredibly swamped. He's out of town. She's under the weather. He's totally stressed about work. She's melting down. He's exhausted. She's feeling very overwhelmed. He's blank on creativity.

Last week I took a blogging sabbatical to write three articles for She (I was incredibly swamped). Last night I didn't blog because I honestly sat in a chair in the living room for thirty minutes trying to think of something to write (I was blank on creativity). Nothing came. I just think it's an interesting new measure on those we keep up with - even if we don't know them personally. My bet is that if someone doesn't blog for a few days he or she could use some prayer. Just an observation from my own short blogging history, so let's step up to bat in our prayer lives for those whose absence of words may speak louder than the ones they type.

And if I'm wrong, there's never any harm in going to the Father on behalf of a friend.

Silence

Like yours, my life is noisy. Carson got a singing Hannah Montana doll and card and a singing Ariel card for her birthday, so she and Campbell were well armed with noisemakers as we left Savannah earlier today. I did step up as the party pooper and nixed all of the plans for a very Hannah Montana ride home.

But before we left, the girls went to the store and to see the ducks with Granddaddy and Gran- Gran. I was upstairs gathering our things when I noticed it. Everything was still and quiet. No appliances whirring. No birds chirping. Silence. And I just sat down for a few minutes to listen. Not to think - just to listen.

There's something about experiencing God in absolute silence. I experience Him differently when I am singing my heart out in praise than when I am surrounded by the beauty of Creation than when I am in silence. Not that He changes; I am just drawn to different aspects of His character in different settings. During my own "Shout to the Lord" sessions I am overtaken by His soveriegnty, His omnipotence, His goodness, His grace, His forgiveness. The evidence of God in nature leaves me filled with wonder, amazed at His attention to detail, His creativity, His perfection, His beauty. I am awestruck as I notice the growth of spring, peer up at the mountains, or stare endlessly over the ocean from the shore.

But silence speaks to me of His comfort, His peace, His companionship. And I just feel like I don't have to do anything or say anything or try to hear anything from Him. Just be with Him. It's exactly like riding in the car with Chris, being glad to be with him, enjoying his presence, and feeling perfectly comfortable to be quiet and be together.

Sometimes I try to plan silence, but it's usually shattered by a dog barking, construction workers sawing, phones ringing, or UPS men buzzing the doorbell. And there are other times when I just become aware of it - like this morning. It was like this sweet, little, perfect gift that I found tucked away out of plain view and was able to keep it all to myself.

Final Exams

I'm back!! And I just had a week that was as close to exam week in college as anything I have experienced in the past decade. With the husband out of town and three articles due, I very easily fell back into "exam week mode," which I thought was pretty interesting given the amount of time that has passed since that season in my life.

Similarities from the past week and my typical exam week in college:

• Sleep deprivation - I went to bed anywhere between midnight and 2:00 am. In college, I always saved my serious studying or writing for the wee hours.
• Total junk eating habits - I was totally eating a meal at midnight and chasing it with my caffeine-laden DP. I'm calling Dr. Collins this week to have my girls' cholesterol checked; I am sure we clogged at least one artery this past week.
• Very little exercise - I exercised once this past week, but little to no exercise was my standard all during college - not just exam week.
• Living on adrenaline in the glazed stare fog - Do you know that feeling? I was so tired and had consumed so much caffeine over the course of days that if I wasn't studying or writing I just sat in one place, staring straight ahead without blinking. Very freakish, actually! Are you worried for the safety of my children? They're alive and well - by the grace of God!
• Disregard for my appearance - Now I use to take this one to the extreme in college, but this time around I just dressed for comfort every day - something that would comfortably accomodate the fact that I was eating full meals at midnight. Ouch!
• That indescribable feeling when it's all done: freedom, lightness, giddyness, relief, and a desire to just celebrate good times (come on...).

Differences this time around:

• TWO CHILDREN!
• I did shower every day, and I did at least wear a different shirt every day, I think. Don't hold me to that one. In college, I totally embraced the same outfit for pretty much the whole week and honestly took few showers during exams. Waste of time, you know...
• No naps during the day this time around:(
• No books to sell at an absolutely ridiculous return at the end of the week in order to treat myself to Taco Bell (Oh, you can only give me $1.50 for this $475 book. Sounds good to me, just get it out of my sight, and I'll take extra cheese and sauce on that soft taco..., thank you very much!)

Glad to be back. Glad my articles are done. Glad I'm a thirty-four year old wife and mom instead of the crazed, unhealthy, psycho I was in college!

We're on a break...

Sorry to say that I'm already taking a sabbatical from my brief stint as a blogger - only a couple of days. I have to write three articles by Friday, and you remember the whole multi-tasking thing. Not so good at it. My brain starts to smoke if I try to think about bloggin and brainstorming for my stories.

Please come back though... I'm feeling very insecure :-) about checking out on you like this. Will you come back? (check yes or no)

Total Randomness from My Brain...

I'm in a quandary. I need a certain amount of "breathing" time in my day and in my life to process events, feelings, stresses, etc... Many of you know that Chris is out of town for two weeks, so I don't expect to do much "breathing" or processing during that time. I certainly haven't done any today, so I come before you tonight as a jumble of random thoughts and raw emotions. That's all I have to offer, so here goes my potluck post:

• One of my fillings from last week is hot/cold sensitive. Is that normal?
• I miss my husband. I am often ornery to live with, and there are many evenings when I am so spent that I feel that I have nothing left to offer him. Not time. Not conversation. Not attention. I shut down. The "Sorry, We're Closed. Please Come Again" sign gets flipped when the last daughter is tucked in. Sometimes I can get so focused on seeking opportunities to minister in my Judea (the convenience store, the park, my neighborhood) that I miss opportunities to minister at my own address. And I fail to acknowledge and truly appreciate the way he ministers to me. Like how he totally cracks me up several times a day. Like how we enjoy the gift of sarcasm. Like how he shares the scoop from his ninety-seven phone conversations and I share from my two. Like how he slices the frozen pizza (I didn't even realize that he always does that until I had to do it tonight). I won't belabor the point, so as to spare you the mush, but you get what I'm sayin'...
• This song is the bomb!!! Check it out on itunes - "At the Foot of the Cross" by Kathryn Scott. My fave right now...
• I have been devastated to realize that as Carson celebrates her sixth birthday on Thursday that 1/3 of her time under our roof will have passed. That thought makes me nauseous, and I won't allow myself to hang out there for more than about 2 seconds. She's missing her daddy too. She took a note he left us and hung it in her room. She fussed at me for sitting in his chair at dinner, and she wants to send him an email - just from her - tomorrow. While she was playing in Campbell's room, she got on Campbell's cash register and added 7+7 to find out how many days he would be away (it's actually going to be 12, so she was happy to hear that).
• God is always such good company. I never look forward to Chris being out of town, but I always anticipate a fresh visit with Him during that time. When Chris is away, He will often speak protection and affection to my heart from His Word, and one of my sweetest encounters with Him was a time when I was feeling very alone in the darkness of night. I prayed that I might feel His company and very shortly thereafter I heard the softest, gentlest rain outside my window. No rumbling. No wind. Just the softest pitter-patter that said, "I'm here..."

Night, night, sweet folks. I'm expecting Company...

Got a question for ya...

I'm forever looking for ways to make my life more efficient - because efficiency is not one of my strong suits. Deliberate? Yes. Meticulous? Often. Slow? Yes, yes, yes! And I've confessed that I'm not a multi-tasker, so I like to think about things I could cut out of my life all together. Upon meditating on that, I have come upon a few things that I have come to classify as complete acts of futility. For example,

• Mopping the kitchen floor when you have a preschooler and a kindergartner - We could seriously feed a small country with what I sweep off the floor.
• Wearing make-up during the summer in South Carolina - When I wear make-up during the summer, my beautified face melts into a puddle in my lap within nanoseconds of walking outside.
• Plucking my eyebrows - Plucking is painful and causes the darn things to be fruitful and multiply. How counterproductive is that?

Lest you think this is a woman thing, Chris takes a shower before he cuts the grass. Go figure...

So what in your life is a total act of futility but you continue to do it anyway (because you have to or because you choose to)? Something that you do that is almost immediately undone as soon as you do it? I look forward to hearing from you...

Deep Thoughts

On the way to take Campbell to school this morning, I saw this on the back window of a black F250:

If you dumb, you better be tough.

Too funny.

Too true.

Growing up in Marion, God gave you smarts or brawn, but usually not both!

Bigger eyes, Deeper hearts

In my world, most of the people are pretty much like me. The people in my neighborhood live pretty much the way I live. My friends pretty much do the same things I do. It's not often that I spend time with someone whose life experience is so different from my own.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to sit down with a mom very different from myself. She's a foster mom. Single and only a couple of years older than I am. I was given an hour and a half to glimpse into her world, and I left with eyes that see a little more and a heart that understands just a little more than it did before our interview. I think this is certainly one of the many ways God is going to challenge me through my relationship with She magazine.

I was actually a foster care driver during college (driving foster children to visit with their parents), but I was not a parent then. And my, my, my how parenthood changes our perspective...

I hope you get the chance to peek at the article in May, certainly not because I'm writing it, but because I feel different after having met her. And I hope to be able to convey that through my words (although I'm struggling to do that right now).

Crumbs under the Cushions

About the car. We took it today to be "detailed" in hopes of eliminating the most offensive odor. My dear husband made arrangements for us to leave the car the entire day, and he was absolutely mortified as we began hauling car seats out of the back - the Cheerios, cheese crackers, chicken nuggets, and Cheetos began to fly. I even caught myself looking around to see if anyone I knew was watching this spectacle (since this place is only situated at one of the busiest intersections in town). We left it in good hands, and all of us, even the girls, were excited about returning to retrieve a clean, fresh smelling car.

As we approached the detail shop late this afternoon, she looked like a new ride. She was spiffed up, and I was proud to see my nine year-old 107,000 miler looking so good. Chris and I popped out to inspect the interior, and at first glance it was a new day for the Pathfinder. I quickly pulled up the bottom of the back seat and my smile sagged. Yep, there they were - remnants of the Cheerios, cheese crackers, chicken nuggets, and Cheetos.

We came home, and I vacuumed under the seats. I took some 409 to areas that were still a little encrusted, and she's almost as clean as she's ever been. But that was pretty disappointing. She looked great from afar, but the yuck was still hanging around.

I'm like that.

I look pretty good from afar, but I still got some yuck hanging around. Yuck that I don't want you to discover. Like when I look around in a restaurant to see if anyone heard me reprimand Carson a little too loudly or when I consciously decide not to engage anyone in conversation at the park because I don't feel like exerting the effort - even if it's a lost opportunity to minister to a mom.

One of my objectives in blogging is to just be straight with you, to live honestly before whomever my audience may be. I got yuck hanging around that I expose to my Father's vacuum and 409 on a regular basis, but I'll always be disappointing if you check the interior closely enough.

So if you see me out and about in Flotown in my dressed up ride, wave and know that there are plenty of crumbs left under the cushions.

NUMB3RS

Numbers can be quite revealing; here are the numbers from the past two days:

• 2 fillings in the left side of my mouth
• 42 dental instruments in my mouth at once
• 10 times I gagged in the dental chair
• 4 1/2 hours of numbness and a fat tongue
• 1 34 year-old woman reduced to a whimpering six year-old
• 9 Diet Pepsi's
• 0 minutes exercising
• 3 episodes of Dora
• 4 loads of laundry
• 5 blogs I enjoy following (Michael Brown, Erika Chapman, Mark Chapman, Perry Noble, Susanne Reeder)
• 25 bags of groceries
• 2 hot baths
• 73 loud, harsh construction noises from next door
• 1 fat cat nap (nothing like it to change your perspective)
• 5 episodes of chocolate
• 59 puzzle pieces strewn across the kitchen floor by the puzzle-obsessed 2 year-old
• 2 meals eaten in the car
• 2 meals cooked (although what constitutes a meal is certainly open for debate)
• 5 different pairs of shoes left around the house by one precious 5 year-old
• 11 times I thought my car smelled gross
• 3 Cawthons doing the Hokey Pokey at dance class
• 21 hugs and kisses...............priceless!

What lies ahead... (Part Two)

As I have continued to process the thoughts behind my last post, I kinda came to a conclusion that this season of such unmerited blessing (our Monday night Bible study has grown 60% in two weeks with five or six different churches represented, and I did nothing to cause that. I didn't even do anything to help that happen. I didn't even pray for that to happen. In fact, we were discussing disbanding so that we could all be involved in the summer activities of our respective churches. God is blowin' the doors off it, and I consider it one of the coolest blessings ever to see Him take it over and do His thing, but I digress...)...

I was saying that this season of blessing is part of the preparation for the tears ahead. To store up personal experiences with His goodness, His faithfulness, His grace, His forgiveness, His attentiveness, His strength, His wisdom, His timing and to draw from that when I need it.

I am thankful He is preparing me, and I am having a blast along the way. More fun than I have ever had.

What lies ahead...

I am standing in the greatest season of blessing of my life. God has allowed me to see Him move in absolutely astounding ways. He is affirmatively answering specific prayers left and right; I can barely wrap my brain around it. It's humbling.

But every now and then I stand toe to toe with the fear of what lies ahead. Hardship. Pain. Loss. Illness (the ounce of worldly superstition that lives in my pinky toe is terrified to type this for fear of speeding the fulfillment of this truth).

I think it's good to have a keen awareness of how God is blessing me, to constantly acknowledge how undeserving I am of His favor, to bless others out of my gratitude, and to maintain a healthy understanding of how this life process, this growth process works. God will allow pain into my life to sharpen me, to draw me into complete dependence and trust, to further purify me, and to render me more effective in ministry to others. That's just the deal.

I know my God's character well enough to build my life on His faithfulness and goodness, but often times knowledge doesn't automatically change behavior. Much like the fact that people continue to smoke even though they are aware it causes cancer, someone as friendly with fear as I am still has to wrestle with this issue often.

Easy livin' eventually leads to sloppy spirituality. I can't remember where I read that, but it's truth in my life. That's scary to me, but I am seeking a healthy balance in my view of God's blessings.

And I am praying regularly to be prepared for what lies ahead...

Reflection

I had a disturbing experience at church this past Sunday. Chris and I were "teaching" the two year-old class during "big" church (thirteen preschoolers in all), and it was our first time in this particular class. As parents were depositing their little ones in our care; I was all business - compulsively counting little ones at all times, speaking with parents, trying to remember which bag belonged to whom, who pottied and who would need changing, monitoring the shenanigans of the youth helpers, trying to keep kids from drinking out of the wrong cups, and wondering how in the tarnation I was going to tell the story of John baptizing Jesus in a way that was relevant and riveting for my audience.

And I am not an effective multi-tasker. I can be super-focused girl, but a multi-tasker I am not.

And in walks a mom who is a first-time visitor. There are many people at the church we attend that we do not know, so I did not know this was her first visit. My demeanor was the same with her; I think I was cordial and pleasant. Perhaps she saw the frazzle in my eyes, but she stepped into the hall for a few moments of hesitation and then re-entered the room to retrieve her son. I was shocked. She went on to collect her other two children, and she and her husband left.

I hate revisiting this experience because it is a negative reflection on me and how I failed to serve and reassure this mom. There are many reasons she may have left, but I bear at least some, if not all, of the responsibility for this incident. She was not at all rude to me, nor did she seem angry, but she was obviously displeased.

And you know, it bothers me so much because I was the face of that church to her and I am to be a face that reflects Jesus to her, and I missed the mark. I'm not heaping condemnation on my head, but I am trying to be changed by that brief interaction. I want to forever remember it; I am thankful it happened.

Whether I am at church or at the convenience store or at the gym or at Carson's school, I am a face that is to reflect Jesus. I get that. And normally I am very conscious of trying to behave in a way that honors and pleases Him, but when I was distracted I missed an opportunity to minister to a family who was probably looking for a community of believers to plug in to.

If I knew her name or had her email address, I would love to apologize for her experience. But sometimes we don't get second chances; we don't get a do-over. So it is my prayer that I will ever be sensitive to opportunities to communicate reassurance and encouragement to those who may need a dose and that I will be committed to serving others with excellence.

Because I am a face that is to reflect Jesus...

That's How I Roll...

I looked in the mirror yesterday around lunchtime and found that I was wearing only one earring. No, the other one wasn't lost. No, the other one hadn't fallen out during the morning chaos, but thank you for trying to excuse my absentmindedness. I had simply put in one earring and gone right about my business.

I had dropped off Campbell at school and volunteered in Carson's class, and no one said anything. Chances are they didn't notice; it's not a big deal really. But it is indicative of how I move through some days - haphazard and scattered.

But, you know, it's like a ten year-old snowboarder told my husband when Chris complimented his funky ski hat, "That's how I roll..."

So there, most of the time I'm a crazed nut case mom with my one earring; french fries, crayons, cups, and drawings rolling out of my car door when it's opened; speeding like a bullet everywhere I go to reach the unattainable goal of actually being on time somewhere; and sporting some kind of food stain at all times.

But you what, that's how I roll..

Date Night

Tonight was date night. But I didn't go out with my husband - scandalous! Not so. My dear love sent me off to be courted by my Father. We went to Chili's where we chatted over a Beth Moore Bible study (first time I've ever had the confidence to eat "alone" in a restaurant like that - it was way cool!), and I listened intently and hung on His every Word.

When it was time for dessert, He was the Perfect Gentleman, as always, and didn't even try to snake any of my Chocolate Molten Cake (though we may have to revisit some of our previous conversations on gluttony :( ).

After dinner we parked in the Home Depot parking lot where we just enjoyed each other's company. We talked and listened to some tunes (and I sang some Hillsong way too loud and out of key, but He didn't mind. He just smiled). He pointed out the view, which was stellar - a range of mountains wrapped the horizon in shades of white, grey, and pink standing against pure blue. I forgot myself. A few minutes later, I looked to enjoy it again, and it was gone. The colors had faded; the clouds had thinned. And a few minutes after that, there was nothing left but the dark blue that deepens into black. The changing and fleeting nature of His painting made it all the more fabulous! He continued to show out by igniting the night sky with a few bolts of lightning.

Is He the coolest date ever, or what? Thankful to say...

I am His and He is mine!


And thankful too for my wonderific husband for understanding my need to be alone with Him tonight.