BE a Book

You know how sometimes you look at your life and wonder what you've accomplished?

Birthdays do that to me. For the past few weeks I've been thinking about the direction of my life. I've shared before about my dream to have a book published someday, but it's a huge mountain. Ginormous, humongous, colossal. With the glut of writers out there, the odds of becoming a published author is similar to winning the lottery. Everybody and their Aunt Sally wants to write a book.

Plus it takes a lot of time and a major commitment to write. I'm a stay-at-home-mom with children in school all day, yet somehow my days are very full. There never seems to be enough time. Something else is always more pressing, pulling me away. I have to fight and sacrifice other things to go beyond writing blog posts and Bible study e-mails. It isn't easy. Not at all.

I get discouraged. Should I shed activities to devote more time to the impossible dream? Or am I wasting time which could be spent on more worthy pursuits? What am I doing with my life?! People ask, "What do you do?" and I'm at a loss for words. Can I say I'm a writer if I have no publishing credits? Does anything I do have significance when I can't identify it in ten words or less?

Enter my wonderful, deep, insightful friend who knows how I kick myself around about this. "Tami, it's better to BE a book than to write one," she said, "I know it is your dream, but just know you are living the life God wants you to for Him. Jesus shows up in you very clearly! You will leave a legacy!"

clearly you are an epistle of Christ . . . written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, that is, of the heart.

2 Corinthians 3:3

I AM a book. Wow.

She made me cry. Have I been so focused on the task that I've missed what God's already doing? My goal in publishing is to point people to God. If my LIFE does that, does it matter if there is an actual physical book with my name on it?

I am a book. YOU are a book. We do more for the kingdom of God by how we live than by the blather we expel. We encounter way more people in our lifetimes than our words will ever reach. It's better to BE a book.

Have you wished to do great things for God? Do you long to make a mark on your world? Have you worked so hard on the goal you've missed the way He uses you already?

Don't miss the forest for the trees, friends. Keep pursuing that dream, but don't discount the journey as wasted time. The roads you travel write your story.

Make every day count. BE a book.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 118)

1) So I thought it kind to warn my husband I was speaking of his "air feces" in last week's Quick Takes (see #3) and read it to him before I posted it.

Kevin: Oh great, now people are going to know I fart.

Oh my goodness. I don't know if it was the late hour or what, but I started laughing and couldn't stop.

Me: Don't you think they figured you did? Isn't that a safe assumption?

The idea of his farting being some well-kept secret until now just wouldn't let me go and I was laughing so hard soon the kids came to investigate.

Drama Queen: What are you doing?!

Me: I wrote on the blog about Dad farting at the breakfast table and he said, "Oh great, now people are going to know that I fart."

Drama Queen: Dad! (Her laughter erupts.) You are such a dork. Don't you think they already know that?

Miss Innocent One wandered in.

Miss Innocent One: What is so funny?

Me: I wrote on the blog about Dad farting at the breakfast table and he said, "Oh great, now people are going to know that I fart."

Miss Innocent One: Dad, everybody farts.

Kevin was not nearly as amused as the rest of us.

Kevin: I have a reputation to uphold.

Drama Queen: How does farting ruin your reputation? Is the paper going to run a story--Kevin Boesiger, famous composer FARTS?

Me: Yeah. Stay tuned for more.

Drama Queen: He may even POOP.

Too bad Kevin couldn't find the humor in it. It made me laugh for days.

"Oh great, now people will know that I fart." Really, honey? Oh man. It still brings tears!

2) My-quest-to-never-be-an-episode-of-Hoarders-update:

Ack! The only purging I did was in my wallet, although technically I was transferring things from an old one to a new one, but it still required me to throw some things out, so it counts, right?

I also threw a few things out of a cabinet in my office, but didn't go through the whole cabinet. Can the two things together count as one good project?

3) Even though I didn't do so hot on the anti-Hoarder campaign, my current crusade is affecting my children.

Ladies Man: Mom, I think Mrs. So-and-so may be a hoarder.

Me: Why?

Ladies Man: It seems like she always has the same stuff laying around and it gets worse all the time. She'll stack stuff on top of other stuff. Nothing ever goes away.

Me: I don't know.

Ladies Man (raising his eyebrows and shrugging): She might be.

Kevin: I can tell you one thing. Mrs. So-and-so is more of a hoarder than your mother.

Victory! My husband thinks I'm doing fine and my children are paying attention to junk laying around! Now, if I could only get them to pick it up and put it away.

4) Ladies Man got a new pair of shoes this week. This kid just keeps growing. Get a load of his foot next to my honkin' size 10 foot. I always thought I had big feet. YIKES!


5) Can I brag on my husband?

(You realize it doesn't matter what you say, right? I'm going to do it anyway.)

This year in August, we reach twenty-five years together. The first week of January I received an e-mail from him which said, "2011 will mark the 25th year of our marriage. In honor of one of the best days of my life, I would like to celebrate by having 52 weeks of romance."

Week 1 was our getaway to the Lied Lodge. Week 2 he agreed to go to bed at the same time I did every night (He usually stays up late and I get up early, so retiring at the same time doesn't always happen. I LOVED it!). Week 3 he gave me a beautiful ring for my birthday and wrote a poem. This week, number 4, he's e-mailed me a Bible verse each day.

Isn't he awesome?! I'm hoping it continues. I know how life creeps in and sucks away precious time and energy. Whatever. I'm totally digging it while it lasts. Thank you, babe. I love you!

6) Though I've been thrilled with his thoughtfulness, Kevin's friends are not liking it too much, teasing him that he's making it hard on them now.

"What is it this week?" one asked me the other day, rolling his eyes.

His teenage son laid in a hospital bed next to us and listened in as I told of this week's romantic gesture. Suddenly the kid who hadn't said much of anything during my visit piped up.

"He's such a metrosexual."

Don't you love it?!

(Thanks for the laugh, Cole, and GET WELL!! We're praying for you. Hang in there!)

7) Drum line season opens tomorrow. We'll get to see Drama Queen and the Beatrice Drum Line strut their stuff with Drummer Boy as their fearless leader. Then later, we'll see Drummer Boy perform with DOJO, an independent line out of Omaha. Those of you in my neck of the woods looking for something to do Saturday night can travel up the road to Norris to take it in.

And that's all she wrote this fine Friday, friends. Have a great weekend and check out more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Of Races and Running and Pride

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Hebrews 12:1

I hate running.

My hate affair started in elementary school being the chubby girl who always came in last. I developed a love for basketball and played all through high school, but had a reputation for fouling out, mostly because I was so slow and didn't quite make it to the ball, nailing the player instead. Being bottom heavy, having a bad knee and birthing hips, I decided my body type was not fit for running. Plus, did I mention I HATE running?

But when I was pregnant with my first child, my brother ran on a cross country team. As I went to his meets, I discovered an admiration for these people punishing themselves. Blame it on pregnancy hormones, but every time a runner crossed the finish line, no matter what place they were in, most being strangers, tears filled my eyes and I marveled at their achievement.

"They did it, they did it," I cried to my husband. He patted my back in wonderful expectant father form.

Fast forward twenty years and I'm sitting on my friend's couch, listening to her talk about tackling a new fitness goal. She decides though she hates running and thinks she stinks at it, she'd like to feel that sense of accomplishment. She talks about how inspired she gets whenever she watches The Biggest Loser and contestants complete a marathon at the end.

Something in me stirs. Is it possible I could do it? I jumped over a life-long hurdle in my life last year I never thought I would. Could this be another to take on? Could I be the one at the finish line someday, tears streaming while I pump my fists in the air saying, "I did it. I did it." Having a partner to hold me accountable the whole time would help. Before I knew what was happening, I agreed to join my friend to train for a 10K.

We started slowly, alternating walking five minutes, running one minute for thirty minutes. I discovered I still hated running (and so did she), but we weren't giving up. We kept at it, pumping ourselves up after every session saying, "We're awesome. We can totally do this." Each week we decreased the walking and increased the running. We weren't loving it, but surviving it, consistently proclaiming our adage, "We're awesome. We can totally do this."

But then my running buddy started to take off. She ran faster and longer than me. She almost looked like she enjoyed it. My good knee started hurting and I felt like a hobbly old woman pushing herself in vain to save face. I flashed back to my chubby girl days watching the backs of the kids in front of me. She sensed my discouragement and tried to set me straight.

"Tami, you're defining success wrong," she said, "You're doing everything I'm doing. You've completed every step. That's success."

I knew she was right, so I worked on an attitude adjustment, and I mean worked HARD. I swallowed my pride and let the speed on my treadmill dip below hers. I concentrated on improving myself and not keeping up with her. I babied my sore knee to make it easier. I got better shoes. I determined I would not psyche myself out with a bad attitude. I would not utter "I hate this" ever again. I completed the training for each day, pushing myself slightly, reconciling myself to the fact that my own pace, though it was slower than hers, would still bring about the desired result--finishing a 10K.

Then one day last week, I got on the treadmill next to my friend with a firm resolve to have a good attitude. I started at her speed, but when my knee started hurting I lowered mine slightly. She decided to run through the one minute walking break and I told myself it was okay to take the break I needed (though secretly it killed me to see her do it so easily). "It's not a competition," I kept telling myself, "I just need to complete the day's training." But my knee kept feeling worse and worse. After about thirty minutes, it couldn't take any more and screamed at me to quit.

I limped around the track, trying to walk it off while she finished another 5-10 minutes of solid running. To say I was frustrated puts it mildly. "You will have a good attitude," I preached to myself, but it took everything in me to hold back the tears. Hadn't I left chubby girl behind? How did she turn into old lady? Hadn't I approached this wisely, slowly? Why couldn't I have success as she was? As I breathed deeply and sniffed back the tears, God reminded me.

Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.

My race. Not her race. My race.

Persevere Tami. It's no different than life. You have setbacks. You live through them and go on. Run with perseverance the race marked out for YOU.

Another opportunity to swallow my pride, another shot in trusting God's plan for my life, another chance to press on.

A LIFE lesson.

Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.

Do you feel like you're lagging behind? Not doing it right? Can't keep up? Are your eyes in the wrong place?

Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.

Your life, your faith, is supposed to be unique, not following the format of another. Don't fall victim to that trap.

Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.

Like so many circumstances in life, this knee thing is a set back, not a deal breaker. I'll give it some rest and take another crack at it. I'll push my pride aside and be happy for my friend who's jumped her own hurdle and signed up to run a 5K in a few weeks. She's awesome. She can totally do this. And I'll get there.

I'll persevere because that's what God calls His children to do. The race He's marked out for me is different than the one marked out for my running buddy and the one He's marked out for you. And that's okay. Success is measured by completion.

Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.

There At Every Turn

I watched my father breathe his very last breath and He was there.

When I said, "I do," His Spirit twinkled in the eyes of my new husband.

Sitting in the dark on the bathroom floor, having just been sick with grief, He reminded me to focus on what is, not on what was.

When each of our children were born, I saw His pleasure in the tears of my husband.

As I struggled to sleep on the cot in my son's hospital room, He saw me cry into my pillow.

Moving into a different house, He followed our family from room to room as we prayed for His blessing.

As my father-in-law's future looked grim, His strength sustained our family.

Talking and weeping, laughing and hugging, His warmth glows in the gift of friendship.

“Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”

~ by Jerry Bridges ~

In every good day, in every bad one, He is there, whether we sense Him or not.

For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.

Romans 11:36

Where is His grace evident in your life?

Join our host, Jennifer at Scraps and Snippets for more on this quote.

Another Reason to Trust

Night falls.
As my weary body and brain fall into bed, they lose their tenacity to fight
and the old anxieties creep in.
How will you pay for that?
Can it possibly work out?
What if . . . ?

I ward it off with as much as energy as I have,
calling on the name of Jesus,
bringing to mind His gentle words.
Trust Me.

The wonderful man sleeping next to me starts to snore
and suddenly I'm aware of God's past provision,
His answer to my prayer thirty years ago
which surpassed my every expectation.

I settle into the warmth of my husband's body,
inhaling his familiar aroma with every breath
and I thank God.

How can I question His love for me,
why do I doubt He will handle my problems
when this is my life every night?

Truly God is good.
He knows exactly what I need.
There is nothing to fear.



Photo Credit: kasperbaago

7 Quick Takes (Volume 117)

1) I started this week NOT looking forward to my birthday and now I'm wondering why. I've had a great WEEK! The kind comments of others have truly touched me and I am left humbled at the amazing people God surrounds me with, people who know me and still think I'm wonderful. Imagine! How I love you, my dear friends. You made this ordinary, now older woman feel special.

Growing up I had a ton of friends with birthdays in the same two week period. As an adult I'm finding the same. All these January birthdays! Spring fever must be real . . . if you know what I mean (wink, wink).

2) My kids are getting to the age where they realize buttering up their mother may not be a bad idea.

Drama Queen: Are you 45 now?

Me: No, I'm 47.

Drama Queen: I thought you were 45.

Me: Mmm hmmm.

Ladies Man: I thought you were 32, Mom.

You see where this kid gets his name? And just to add a little more sugar (or saccharin?) on top, he departed with these words.

Ladies Man: Bye, Mom. I love you more than Drama Queen.

3) And now more potty talk from the Boesiger bunch.

Kevin was feeling especially playful or maybe just constipated and shall we say, let one rip at the breakfast table.

Ladies Man: Yeah, Dad, classic man fart. Awesome air feces.

Kevin: Air feces? Who came up with that?

Ladies Man: Me.

Kevin: I don't know if I should be proud or just disgusted.

4) Guess who's caught on quickly to macrame? Look what I got for my birthday from Miss Innocent One.


5) Drummer Boy is playing with a select drum corp out of Omaha this winter and was telling us about the show. Each battery player has a dancer assigned to them. I can't wait to see how they work the logistics out on this--drummers marching with heavy equipment while dancers twirl around them? It sounds like a concussion waiting to happen.

Drummer Boy: My dancer's name is Aloha.

Me: Aloha? (And of course I had to ask the obvious question.) Is she Hawaiian?

Drummer Boy: NO! She's just as white as me! I mean, she looks like an Amy.

Does it make me a racist if I found his comment hysterical?

6) My-quest-to-never-be-an-episode-of-Hoarders-update:

This week I cleaned out the vanity in the kids' bathroom and tackled a shelving unit in my laundry room. Think dust, lint, humidity, spilled bits of detergent and many years of neglect and you get the picture on that. Ew, ew, EW! But now it's super and much more functional. YAY!

Oh and I must tell you how exciting it was to open my mother-of-all-closets this week and FIND SOMETHING IN A MATTER OF SECONDS! Do you hear the angels singing?! Wow, was that wonderful! That closet is so spectacular and spacious I'm thinking it will make a good hiding place when I don't want to be found or maybe a funky place for a little rendezvous with my husband . . . wait, you probably don't want to know about that.

7) The award for the most profound comment of the week goes to Drama Queen and her father.

Drama Queen to Kevin: You have a weird family.

Kevin: It's your family too.

That pretty much says it all, don't you think? Amen and amen. Have a great weekend, my friends and check out more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

I Don't Think This is What Michael Jackson Had In Mind

People Are Hurting

The number of hits on yesterday's post (an all time high for an ordinary Tuesday) and the responses that found my inbox confirm it.

People are hurting.

We don't understand. We worry. We're afraid. We want to be rescued. If God is really there for us, why can't we feel Him? Why doesn't He let us in on what He's doing? Why must He fix our issues in His timing? Why not show us the Master Plan so we see our stewing is silly?

But God doesn't work that way. I have a few ideas why, but they don't really matter. God is God. He can work however He wants.

So how do we cope with the pain of living? How do we find any peace amid the struggles which threaten to do us in?

God, why do I have to keep worrying about the same things?

You don't. Trust Me.

Trust Me.

What does that mean?!

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Tell me about it. Vent to ME. Then let me handle it.

So I take the anxious thought, the nagging concern which wakes me at 3:AM and I pray about it. And twenty minutes later, when my heart is still racing or tears drip into my pillow or I wish I had some wine to knock me out, I pray again. I whisper His name. I replace the cloud in my mind with any verse I can think of to focus on what is true.

Sometimes I feel the peace He speaks of, sometimes not. I find my level of serenity is directly related to what I concentrate on. If I dwell on the problem, I'm toast, but if my mind thinks of God alone, my spirit settles.

Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own.

His words. Not mine.

Trust me. Remember WHO I AM. Let me handle it.

People are hurting, but God's not oblivious.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Why am I reluctant to let it go? What good does it do me?

COME.

I may not get it right and I may have to keep doing it over and over and over, but I'll keep coming, Lord.

COME.

Will you?

When Life Seems Like Too Much to Handle

On January 15, 1993, two days before my 29th birthday and me eight months pregnant, my parents announced they were getting a divorce. Two weeks later, my husband's grandmother died. Two weeks after that came the death of my uncle. A few weeks later on February 26 our second child was born. Two weeks later, our older child contracted chicken pox. Two weeks after that he suffered a couple of seizures, landing him in the hospital for a weekend and giving him a diagnosis of childhood epilepsy.

1993 was not one of my favorite years.

The emotional toll of my parents' divorce and the physical strain of having a newborn, living on little sleep with fluctuating hormones coupled with deaths and illness nearly did me in. I was sure God must have checked out of my life.

"Footprints in the Sand" hung in our bedroom, the poem about during the roughest parts of your life where there is only one set of footprints in the sand, Jesus carried you. But though it was meant to comfort, it didn't. Instead I thought, "Really?! You're really carrying me? Why can't I feel it?"

Yet my grief and exhaustion continually led me to one place. When there's nothing you can do, where do you go?

God.

“God loves you. He loves you so much that He’s allowed this trial to push you to the point where you have no choice but to look to Him.”

~ When Life is Hard by James MacDonald ~

I can't say I'd like to live another year like 1993, but it was a bittersweet time. Though it was painful, I got a crash course in trusting God. I learned what pouring out my heart to Him really meant. I discovered only One can bring true peace, and though it may require me to walk through some tough days, I WILL get through them.

I do not walk alone.

Neither do you, friend. Are you in a difficult time of life right now? Are you wondering what God is doing or if He even sees your pain? Do what I did. Go ahead and cry your eyes out and scream at Him and tell Him what's on your heart and mind. Seek the God who hears and knows. You have nothing to lose and peace to gain. Let it out, all of it, and listen.

Give Him the chance to heal you.

You do not walk alone. This trial may be the very thing to jump start an amazing ride with God. Don't waste the pain. Use it to draw you close to Him.


If you'd like to join the In "Other" Words gang and/or read other thoughts this quote inspired, visit Debbie at Heart Choices. I highly encourage you to read Debbie's post of practical tips in surviving the tough seasons. It's well worth the click over. Thanks Debbie!

Go in God's grace this day, my friends.

Not Happy Birthday

Subconsciously, I think I've been dreading this day for about a week.

(Hey, wait a minute--Subconsciously, I think--isn't that an oxymoron, or maybe just bad writing. Never mind.)

Today is my birthday and I'm getting to the age where the numbers aren't sounding so good to me anymore. As of 12:41 p.m. I am 47 and in my mind you might as well say I'm 63 because in a survey they probably fall in the same group. The older you get the bigger the age span gets in those things. You start out fitting into the 15-19 age group, then it's 20-29, 30-46 and 47-84. Oh brother.

I don't know what my problem is. I have nothing to be depressed about. I'm in the best shape of my life physically. Last week I gave away clothes I wore in high school (Notice the hoarder tendencies? I still had clothes from 30 years ago?!) because I'll never be able to fit into them being FIVE sizes bigger than what I wear now. My husband is awesome. My kids are great. I have good relationships with my extended family and even my in-laws. I have wonderful friends and people in my life, a terrific church family. And I'd never want to revisit an age. I love my life. Truly. God has been gracious and abundant.

So I guess I need to take the advice of so many people who have chided me for screwing up my face when they've wished me a happy birthday. Today I choose to thank God for the amazing blessings in my life, for the love He has surrounded me with, and mostly for bringing me into His family. I hate to think of what I would be without His touch on my life.

God is good. A birthday is a great time to acknowledge another year of His benevolence. Pardon me while I do so.

Thank You Lord. You continually astound me with your blessings. I find myself thinking often, "Who am I? Why me?" How could I have anything but joy in my heart this day? You are so faithful, so gentle. Today I celebrate You and Your goodness.

How can I keep from singing Your praise?
How can I ever say enough?
How amazing is Your love!
How can I keep from shouting Your name?
I know I am loved by the King
and it makes my heart want to sing.

Today is not happy birthday. Today is PRAISE GOD!



Photo Credit: 3liz4

7 Quick Takes (Volume 116)

1) It's been c-c-c-c-OLD! in my parts this week (I mean, my surroundings, not my actual parts!)

2) House purging update in my quest to never be an episode of Hoarders:

(I realize you probably couldn't give a flip about the state of my closets, cabinets and drawers, but if I trick my mind into being accountable to you, I'm more likely to get my house in order.)

This week I cleaned out a horribly messy cabinet in the office, the main floor bathroom vanity and the master bathroom vanity. Progress!

I also managed to get rid of all the leftover chocolate and candy from Christmas. No, I didn't ingest it (at least not all of it), but put it out when Drama Queen had friends over last weekend. I even got rid of the white chocolate melting-gone-bad stuff. BONUS! I didn't think anything of it as I kept finding things to set out. I was only being a good hostess, right?

Me: Oh hey, here's a few peanut clusters and I'd love it if you guys would eat all those mints and here's some white chocolate I totally forgot about.

I guess I went overboard when I heard one of her friends talk about putting chemicals in their hot tub and I remembered the leftover stuff we had stored from a few years ago when we had a pool and asked her if she wanted it.

Drama Queen: Mom, you are NOT a HOARDER!

Nope, babe. And I'm not gonna be!

3) Having Drummer Boy home for a week or so around Christmas made me aware of the true state of his college poverty. The poor kid hardly has any pants to wear. I was going to take him shopping, but he hasn't been around much since New Years. So I picked up a pair of jeans and while in purge mode found a perfectly nice sweater in the mother of all closets (yet another BONUS) and left them for him before we took off for our little night away. Several hours later I get a text from him.

Drummer Boy: Jeans and sweata be makin' me look fly! Thanks Ma!

Me: Is fly good?

Drummer Boy: Of course. Get wit it!

Being a mother is a constant education. Who needs that book learnin'?

4) Kevin and I had a fantastic time on our way too short getaway. For those of you who live in our area, we went to the Lied Lodge in Nebraska City. Truly it's one of my favorite places on earth. If you've never been there, I highly recommend it. So beautiful. So peaceful. It's especially lovely in the winter with their fireplaces stoked and snow lightly falling in the orchard surrounding it. Aaah. I miss it already. Wish we could have stayed another night.

On our way home Saturday, we stopped at a restaurant for lunch and I ordered hot tea. I love tea. It gives you the caffeine jolt you need, but has such a soothing quality to it too. As I explained this to my husband, he gave me a whatever-floats-your-boat-I-love-you-anyway kind of look.

Me: I'm such a nerd. I love tea and books and computers.

Kevin: But you don't like NPR.

(For those of you with no nerd gene whatsoever, NPR stands for National Public Radio. It's the station that plays classical music and has shows where the hosts drip condescension and make you feel like a total idiot.)

Me: You're right. I can't be that much of a nerd then.

Kevin: I like NPR. What does that make me?

Me (Whoops, now I'm in trouble. Time for some quick thinking.): A Renaissance Man.

Kevin: What is a Renaissance Man?

Me: A guy who is well rounded, well-informed, sensitive to the needs of women.

Kevin: Where'd you get that definition?

Me: Me. I made it up. I can do that.

Kevin: Why does liking NPR make me a Renaissance Man, but you a nerd?

Me (realizing it's time to cut my losses and get out of this mess as quickly as possible): I really don't know. I can't answer that question.

Lucky for me he laughed and let it go.

5) Drama Queen's been teasing her father about his wardrobe being metrosexual, so when he mentioned he liked Chai lattes, she laughed.

Kevin: What?

Drama Queen: Chai lattes are totally metrosexual. You'd make a good homosexual if you weren't married.

Me: I guess I set him straight (wink, wink).

Miss Innocent One: Ew. TMI!

6) While cleaning out a cabinet in the office, I found a spool? a bunch? a hunk? of yarn (Ok, Jen, knitting queen of the world, you'll have to help me out here. What's a hunk of yarn called?) Miss Innocent One saw it and I told her she could have it. She sat on the couch next to her dad just staring at it, pondering what treasures she could make.

Kevin: I could show you how to do macrame knots.

Me: See? You are a Renaissance Man.

He smiled and much to Miss Innocent One's delight, started showing her the intricacies of macrame. All was well in the world, until Drama Queen and Ladies Man caught sight.

Drama Queen: DAD! What are you doing?!

Kevin: Showing Miss Innocent One how to do macrame.

Laughter exploded from the peanut gallery.

Drama Queen: Metrosexual!

Kevin: What?! It takes a secure man to teach his daughter macrame.

Ladies Man: Dad, really, are you hearing yourself?

Poor Kevin. His teenagers may have mocked him, but his youngest thought he was awesome as she ended the day with a cool new skill. Way to man up and be a great dad, honey!

7) I'm taking a deep breath today. Show choir season starts tomorrow and drum line season is right on its tails. The next few months at our house will be busy. A Saturday at home will be a luxury. The bank account will surely take a hit traveling to competitions and dropping small inheritances at the admissions. But seeing our Drama Queen strut her stuff? Priceless. We're proud of you babe.

That's a wrap for me this Friday, friends. Enjoy your weekend and take in more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Thankful for the Yuck

A bad ending to an otherwise fine day drug my spirit in an already weary body. Why can't problems stay fixed? Why are new ones always waiting in the wings? At a loss for a solution, I tried to take my mind off of things and read of fear and God's unbelievable fulfillment and faith.

How will He make good from any problem? I don't know, but He promises He will. He whispers gently, "If faith is not tried, is it faith?"

I get His point. It's easy to have faith which takes no effort, but is no-effort-confidence truly faith?

"In this world you will have trouble," Jesus said, but each trial strengthens my faith.

Make it so, Lord.



Join the Thankful Thursday team at Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

What Do You Do With the Ugly?

Now and then the ugly comes out at our house--a power struggle with a kid, an attitude gone awry, a bad scene you hope the neighbors didn't see or hear, some snippy words with the spouse. I'm assuming it happens in all homes (if not, PLEASE pass on your wisdom!), yet when it rears its head in mine, I don't like it. Not one little bit.

What do you do with the ugly?

I can spend the rest of the day analyzing my behavior, kicking myself around for a poor response, and to be honest, I often do, but what good comes from that? How is the ugly changed by me berating myself?

Do you know what diffuses the ugly?

When I admit my failure to myself, to God AND the party on the receiving end, the hurt is softened and healing begins. Though it's not fun to humble myself and own up to my part (and sometimes doesn't seem fair), it's crucial in maintaining healthy relationships.

When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.

Proverbs 11:2

What do you do with the ugly?

Perhaps if we show humility, we'll gain the wisdom to know.

As for me, here's my plan:

Admit to my part.
Ask forgiveness.
Forgive myself.
Move on, refusing to let Satan have a hold.

Tell me friends, what will you do with your ugly?



Photo Credit: spike55151

The Beauty of Growth

I'm proud of her, my friend.

God asked her to do something tough and while it would be easier to ignore His call, she listens and pushes aside her fear and obeys His leading. She does as much as He gives her and waits, living every day with a burden she'd rather get rid of. Though she wishes she didn't have to, she deals with the pain, trusting God to make good of it and moves forward in an uncertain journey, strictly because He tells her to.

And wow, does she shine.

It's obvious God is working. His touch shows. Her faith grows and the beauty it brings out in her makes me a little jealous of the burden He's placed on her.

" . . . to refuse to bend our shoulders to carry a load is to miss a new opportunity for growth."

J.R. Miller from Streams in the Desert

She gives me incentive to say yes when God asks something hard of me. She shows me pain provides growth and growth displays His glory. She gives me courage, helping me see there is nothing to fear in hard times.

She makes me want to grow.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.

Romans 5:3-5

Now it's your turn. What thoughts did this quote inspire in you? Let us into your head and link up below.

Skinny Mirrors

Yes, I'm still obsessed with mirrors. Call it vanity, a midlife crisis or just plain stupid. Shh. Don't say it. Anyway, you know how some mirrors are skinny mirrors? They make you look thinner than you are? Apparently my husband, Mr. I-don't-need-to-do-anything-to-look-great, has never been aware of the phenomenon.

Me: Was that mirror in our bathroom at the lodge a skinny mirror?

Kevin: What are you talking about, skinny mirror?

Me: You know, some places have mirrors that make you look skinny, like in dressing rooms. You look skinny when you try on the clothes so you buy them, but when you get home they don't look quite the same.

Kevin: There is no such thing. You are totally making that up.

Me: No, really, there is. Ask any woman. They'll agree.

Kevin: How could anyone make a skinny mirror?

Me: I don't know, but there's those weird mirrors in fun houses. It's possible. A skinny mirror is just a toned down version. A sneaky one.

Kevin: You are so full of it.

Me: No, I'm not. You ask any woman.

So I'm asking. Am I right, girls? You've encountered skinny mirrors, haven't you? Help me make my point! Show my husband I know what I'm talking about. Leave a comment so we can set my skeptic straight.



Photo Credit: denise carbonell

Hosting In "Other" Words This Tuesday

Hey folks!

I'm your host for next week's In "Other" Words. If you've never been a part of this community, feel free to join us. We love seeing new names!

I've chosen a quote from one of my favorite devotionals, Streams in the Desert.

" . . . to refuse to bend our shoulders to carry a load is to miss a new opportunity for growth."

J.R. Miller from Streams in the Desert

Think about this quote and come back next Tuesday to link up with your own thoughts. Write away, people!

7 Quick Takes (Volume 115)

1) The purging has begun in my house, people. I'm like a woman possessed. Why didn't I watch Hoarders long ago? Just this week I've cleaned out Miss Innocent One's dresser drawers, the messiest cabinet and drawer in our main floor bathroom, and my bedroom closet and dresser drawers (Edie, you would be so proud--I did what you told me I should a year ago, but suddenly my "wardrobe" seems very puny). If all that isn't enough, I also tackled the mother of all horrendous closets, the one that mocked me with every trip past its bulging door, the dreaded second floor hall closet.

I sure hope the Salvation Army will take the thirteen bags and two boxes I'm bringing them today. You think I'm joking. I'm not, not one tiny exaggeration there, folks. And the sad part is I've got more places in my house to purge! Pray my fire stays lit on this until it's done. I want my house in order!

2) So Drummer Boy was here one week and then we haven't seen him again. I know, I know, the boy has a life. Apparently he spent the night at our house last night, but I have yet to see his shining face. I'm pretty sure I'll hear him before I see him. Those of you who have experienced him will know exactly what I'm talking about.

3) Since Ladies Man has recovered from his hamstring injury, he's all over the driving thing again. I don't mind too much because I hate driving myself, but I must admit he makes me nervous. Apparently it shows.

Ladies Man: No offense, Mom, but I'm a better driver when Dad's in the passenger seat.

Me: Sure, no offense (Can't you just see my eyes rolling?). Why is that?

Ladies Man: I guess I'm afraid you're going to yell at me.

Me: I don't yell at you when you're driving.

Ladies Man: Okay, you don't, but you make sounds and wince and I know you think I'm doing a bad job. And Dad's all like, "Well done, son."

Me: Oh brother. He doesn't say that.

Ladies Man: No, but it feels like he's thinking it.

Me (borrowing a phrase from Drama Queen): You don't even know.

Meanwhile Ladies Man's friend sat in the seat behind us, saying nothing, quietly waiting for us to reach his house.

Ladies Man: I'd probably be an expert driver if I could drive by myself. Then there'd be no pressure.

Suddenly The Friend entered the conversation.

The Friend: Uh, when we're old enough to go out by ourselves, I'm doing all the driving. . . no offense.

I knew there was a reason I liked that kid.

4) Drama Queen attended Snowball last Sunday. Every year she looks more grown up. Here's a picture of her and her date. She really is a woman now, huh?


And one with us!


Then her dad tried to have a little fun.


Yeah, she may have called him a creeper, but her smile gives her away.

5) Last night we found ourselves abandoned by all our children except Miss Innocent One and decided to take her out to eat. We went to a local Mexican restaurant Ladies Man hates to go to and we love. Miss Innocent One is always thrilled to go and made me laugh as we walked out to the car after eating.

Miss Innocent One: I never leave this place unsatisfied.

What is she, like 53 years old?

6) We were pretty excited at our house to see the new Lorenz Music catalog come out. Click on this link to see why. Congratulations, honey. I'm proud of you.

7) My husband, Lord bless his soul, wins Man of the Week. He is whisking me away for the night to one of my favorite places. I CAN'T WAIT! It's a welcome to 2011/let's start celebrating the year we reach the quarter century mark together/early birthday present. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Every morning since he told me about it, he whispers in my ear how many more days until departure. I'm like a kid waiting for Santa, I tell you. Man, that guy is good. I have no idea how I hooked this guy, but I'm never letting him go. Love you babe!

I hope you have a stellar weekend like I plan to. Take in more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

I Hate My Mirror

Stupid thing. All it shows is . . .

More gray.
More age spots.
More sag.
More wrinkles.

Aren't I getting too old to be vain? Shouldn't I be embracing my maturity, delighting in the joy of many good years? Bleh.

And why do I only do this to myself?

When I think about women older than me, I don't gravitate to their age spots or skin (unless I'm admiring the softness). I see the person, the way their eyes shine when they laugh or how the wrinkles around their mouth accentuate their smile. I appreciate their wisdom, their quiet strength which doesn't have to tell you what they've been through, their gentleness, their empathy, their warmth. I don't look at other women the way I look at myself. Why do I do it to me?

How can I be this old and still get caught in the vanity trap?

Stupid mirror? No. Stupid Tami.

Stealing Lonely Moments

The stillness of a sleeping house beckons me out of bed. In the quiet, nothing distracts from my reading, my thinking, my praying. All may not be well, but it will be after I've spent this time alone with my God. For in these moments, every task, responsibility or worry seem to lose their importance. In the blessed silence I don't care that I don't understand. I don't wish for any more than what I have. I don't fear the future. Because in that place, in the presence of Almighty God, nothing else matters. I wish I could bottle up the peace and take a swig of it later in the day when life gets busy and stressful and complicated, when I'm sure I'm an unfit mother, a lousy friend, an incapable servant, when I think one more question will surely make my head explode, when dollar signs put a pit in my gut and time ticks away too fast.

I suppose that is why even Jesus stole away moments with His Father. He needed reprieve from this world too.

But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

Luke 5:16

And so must I.

If my "lonely place" occurs early in the morning, I've got to grab it, for it's worth the loss of sleep. If the demands of my family are getting to me, withdrawing to the bathroom for "loneliness" with the Savior is necessary. Shutting the radio off while driving from one place to the next to listen for Him will soothe my soul. Even in the company of a crowd, I can retreat in my mind for a visit with the Prince of Peace.

To keep my sanity, the right perspective and a sense of peace, stealing lonely moments with my God are crucial.

Lord God, show us how to take them.



Photo Credit: Hoong Wei Long

No Substitute

Who has known the mind of the Lord?

Not me. I know generalities, like I'm supposed to be Christ-like and be filled with the Spirit and other requirements He gives to all His children. But when it comes to His specific will for my life, the daily what-is-the-best-thing, I'm not always sure.

I have an idea of who I'm supposed to be, but no clue how to get there or what path to take. Why does God make it so hard to discern our individual course? I seek His Word. I pray, sometimes over the same thing for years. YEARS. Yet I don't feel any closer to an answer than I was five years ago. Why does God keep our lives a mystery? Why doesn't He speak clearly? Why do we agonize over the right direction to go when He knows exactly what we should do?

When I ask God these sorts of questions, I always get the same answer.

Trust Me.

Sigh. That again?

“Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.”

~ by Oswald Chambers ~

There is no substitute for faith. God desires us to have it. Trust requires it. And faith is never more pure than when it believes despite what it does or doesn't see. Struggling through doubts force my hand, revealing where I place my confidence. Who needs God more, the one with all the answers or the one with all the questions? God may work in mysterious ways, but is it possible He does so to increase our faith as He keeps us coming in search of answers?

It's a deliberate choice. Will I believe He has it handled or not? I don't have to understand where I'm going. If I have total confidence in God, I don't need to know every step of the way.

Trust Me.

It's a gift, really. Learning to trust Him, especially in uncertainty, builds faith.

And without faith it is impossible to please God . . .

So though I don't particularly like being in the dark, I'll take it as His way of making me better, stronger, more faithful. I'll continue to bring my questions to Him and take the next step, believing He guides me.

I'll choose to have faith.

Will you?

Join our host Nina at Mama's Little Treasures for more thoughts on this quote.

It Doesn't Happen Overnight

Are you knee deep in resolutions? Have you scrapped them already? Hiding your head in the sand, waiting for the first week of the year to be over and all this talk about change with it?

I'm not big on resolutions, mostly because I've never been good at keeping them. There's something depressing about setting lofty goals and never seeing them come to fruition. It only serves to make me feel like more of a failure. And I don't need that!

Yet as I look over my life, I DO see some improvement. How? Somewhere along the way God got through to me in different areas. As I search for an explanation I realize one thing is true about any metamorphosis.

It doesn't happen overnight.

My love of T.V. didn't vanish instantly one January. I didn't suddenly develop a love for the gym. My patience level has never significantly risen at the start of a new year. I didn't become a better wife, mother, friend in two weeks time.

I can't lose twenty pounds in a day, a week, or even a month and expect it to last. I can't say I'll keep my closets sparkling clean, but only attend them once a year. I can't exercise really hard in January, but do nothing the rest of the year and think I'll reap benefits.

It doesn't happen overnight.

Lasting change comes with daily, consistent choices. I can't wait for inspiration to hit. I have to choose THIS day the right way to go. Then tomorrow, I have to choose again and the next day and the next. The change has to occur forever, not just for a few weeks at the beginning of a new year. In order for that to happen, I may have to ask myself what I'm willing to give up for real change to take place.

Ouch. I know, right?! This is tough! I don't want to give anything up. I know how fickle I am. I look for an easy way out and take it at first chance. But if I want to reach any kind of resolution, I have to prepare myself for a process.

It doesn't happen overnight.

It takes supernatural help, which is why my word for the year (along with TRUST) is SEEK. If I'm not seeking God I'll never be able to make choosing wisely a habit in any area of my life.

It doesn't happen overnight.

It starts every day, every moment with a choice. It's all about being consistent, faithful, committed.

It doesn't happen overnight.

Will this be your year to kick a bad habit or start a good one? Can you put forth effort for the long haul? Are you willing to give something up to make it happen? Will you commit yourself to seeking after the only One who can help you do it?

It doesn't happen overnight.



Photo Credit: jeff_golden