Hoosier Graces

In case you live on another planet, this weekend culminates the Big Dance of all Big Dances.  Nothing is quite so nerve racking exciting as the NCAA tournament around here, especially when your very own beloved are predicted to take it all.  And especially when on the road to that crowning jewel we get to play against our biggest rivals.  This is simply such a fun time.  Getting together with friends to rally around your team.  There's nothing like it.


And nothing prepares our hearts for victory like the iconic movie Hoosiers.  It is one of my faves.  So when I was flipping through the channels the other night and saw it on PBS ( I know, go figure) it was as if the stars had aligned for me. 

We all love a great Cinderella story, don't we?  Seeing the no-namers come from behind, or the shy and  homely girl transform into the princess of the ball.  I can totally relate to them.  I've always considered myself a no-namer .  A girl in need of transformation.

So as I sat there watching Hoosiers for the bazillionth time, something struck me that I had never noticed before.  Grace is all over this movie.  The way Cletus gives Coach Dale another chance after blowing it big time at his previous gig ; the way Coach Dale treats Shooter, the town drunk;  the way Jimmy and Myra stand up for Coach when the whole town is pitted against him ;  the way Coach keeps treating the town who hates him so much with respect and honor. 

I don't know why I had never noticed it before.  

Maybe because I have never been searching for it so hard.

Some days everyday graces  make their way in and out of our daily lives without a moments pause.  I don't give them a second thought. 

Healthy children
                                            steady income
                                                                                    godly husband

                          loving family                                                                            MICROWAVES

minivans

                                                                 gas in the tank

                                                                                                                          food on the table
                      hugs and kisses
                                                                                           sunshine




But some seasons we are a little more desperate for those daily graces.  We need them like oxygen to our lungs.  Maybe it's the help us learn gratitude, or humility, or reliance on the Giver of all Graces.  I don't know.  But lately I've been feeling pretty desperate and needy. 

Desperate and needy.  Not exactly the most attractive way to describe myself. 

But thankfully the Lord does not see us the way the world does. 

He loves desperate and needy. 

He loves when we admit that we are weak, totally dependent on Him.  The Giver and Sustainer of all. 

This week I have been showered with everyday graces.  Probably no more than I usually get.  I guess I just noticed them more.

Things like The Honey coming home a day early from travel, or coming home 2 hours early from work, or a freshly cut lawn, or the kids learning to ride the 4-wheeler, or Baby Yahoo playing naked outside with the water hose, or the excitement of finding the first frog of the season, and the sound of flip flops being worn.

Beautiful things. For our good.  For His glory.


So I hope you all get a chance to sit back and watch the big games this weekend.  I hope you also might get a chance to take in the movie Hoosiers. Even if you have seen it a bazillion times, it is well worth it.   And I hope that your everyday graces are abundant!

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

John 1:16

Back from the Brink

I never planned on celebrating Lent.

But sometimes plans take on a mind of their own.

The past month my little family has been living under a fog of sleepless nights and fevers and keeping up with who had what medicine when. 

It's been hard.

And I've missed you guys.  Missed sharing with you and hearing from you.

But there are times to talk and times to shut up.  And though I honestly had no time to blog, it would have been detrimental if I had.  Because I know I would have complained the whole time.

There is a time for everything,
   and a season for every activity under the heavens:

  a time to be born and a time to die,
   a time to plant and a time to uproot,
  a time to kill and a time to heal,
   a time to tear down and a time to build,
  a time to weep and a time to laugh,
   a time to mourn and a time to dance,
 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
   a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
  a time to search and a time to give up,
   a time to keep and a time to throw away,
  a time to tear and a time to mend,
   a time to be silent and a time to speak,
  a time to love and a time to hate,
   a time for war and a time for peace. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I would go to bed at night with thanks that we were portioned just enough grace to make it through our day and high hopes that tomorrow would be better....brighter....lighter.

But days would come and go and we would lay to rest one symptom only to strap on new ones.

Have you ever had those seasons?  Seasons of sickness, heaviness?

I remember six years ago having one.  It was right after Little Middle was born and within his first two weeks he had RSV and Ninja and Sweet Yahoo had other infections from every orifice in their head.  My memories are still fresh of breathing treatments and babies crying and Mamas crying.  I was overwhelmed....and dying.

You see, in retrospect, I see that those turbulent, agonizing, come-to-the-end-of-myself seasons are when I get the opportunity to die to myself. 

And dying is hard.  And painful.  And I have found the deeper the selfishness rooted in me the longer the death must be.

Where is Dr. Kevorkian when  you need him?

Some days the weight and the wait were so overwhelming.  I would cry out for God to rescue us. 

I've grown up a lot some in these 6 years.  My idea of a God-rescue back then meant all the kids would be well and healthy and smiling.  Not that those things aren't good.   And you better believe I still ask for them.  But I know now that these trials, these momentary light afflictions, that Refiner's fire that I love to talk about so much is tremendously more interested in my spiritual disease than the physical. 

So no, I do not typically celebrate Lent.  But Lent found me this year.  These 40 days before The Great Physician healed me.  Without my knowing I was lead into a season where I was able, had the opportunity, to daily die with him.  When I wanted to be sleeping or playing or....blogging for Pete's sake....instead I was taking up my cross. 

This short temporary season of illness my family has wrestled with has been such a gentle reminder of God's love for me.  That He sent His Word and healed my disease.  That He does provide all the grace we need.  Daily.  That no antibiotic, decongestant or steroid will ever sustain us the way He does. 



 
So I guess without meaning to I gave up blogging...and sleeping....and eating for Lent.  And it was well worth it.  Because not only am I 5 pounds lighter, but I can say with great humility that I have gotten to share in His sufferings. 

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ  and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—  that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,  that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

Philippians 3: 8-11

The Safe Place To Fall

This is My Safe Place To Fall

And today is his birthday.


I don't know about you, but my dad and I share a special kind of relationship.  I get to rag on him for how old he is or how many broken noses he's sustained from line drives to his face or that he tells the same stories about having walked up Grove Ridge Hill to go to school every morning.....and he gets to take it.

Yes, my dad is my Safe Place to Fall.


Like when I was in fourth grade and came home with a D in English because I had only read 3 of the 10 required readings for the year and done maybe 30 SRA's instead of 100.  And instead of the 40 hour lecture and month long grounding I deserved, he gave me a hug.

Or like when I wrecked the college van during Spring Break in Panama City and the grumpy overwhelmed police officer gave me a reckless driving ticket and my dad was only  more concerned about me and that  I was okay than the outrageous cost of the ticket.

Dad and I also share a love/hate relationship with college basketball.  We love the Wildcats.  We hate Duke.

I love my dad.  And I'm so thankful for him.

So Happy Happy Birthday, Daddy!  I sure do love you!


PS.   I would also like to extend a very very Happy Birthday to the most amazing, pretty, dopey, brilliant, goofball of a nephew this world has laid eyes on.  Today he is 15.  Which makes me feel ridiculously old.  And sad.  Because basically this kid is like my practice first born.  I'm very proud of you, kid!  I love seeing who you've become.

The Lifesaver

This is The Lifesaver.

Please note:  She is NOT 63, nor has she ever been.  These were the only candles we had on hand.

I often affectionately refer to her as Mom.

And today is her birthday.


And because I'd like to see my children grow up I won't tell you her age.

The Lifesaver, she's bailed me out on more than one occasion.  Like just this week when my washer and dryer were out of commission and she did all my laundry... while she had pneumonia.

Of course she never told me she was that sick.

Because that is the kind of Lifesaver she is.

The Lifesaver, she's a go getter.  She gets things done.  There is nothing (and no one) that can stop this woman.  Not even a good case of pneumonia.  Nope.  She loves a good challenge.  And I can't think of too many challenges that she has stood up against that she didn't walk away from victorious.  She gets that from her Daddy.

The Lifesaver, she's not your typical woman.  She welds, she roofs.  And she makes the meanest batch of no bake cookies you've ever placed in your mouth.

And because she's done all these things The Lifesaver, she's a teacher.  She has taught me so much.  My whole life.  She taught me the song 'You are my Sunshine', how to swim, how to drive, to balance my checkbook, and how to paint a wall without lines showing.  But my favorite thing she taught me was that I can be okay with myself...with who God made me.  That I don't have to be just like everyone else.  And when no one else liked who I was, she did.  My Lifesaver.

My Lifesaver.  She has been the unsung hero behind every victory I have ever had.  She sat there with me as I cried and cried while I learned how to nurse my first baby.  She was my biggest supporter when I said I was thinking of home schooling the kids.  And like every good Mama she stays in the shadows never wanting any attention or thanks or praise.

And when I grow up I want to be just like her.



I love you, Mama!  Happy Happy  Birthday.

A Bunch of Nothing

OK, I'm going to ask a few random questions.  And I promise it is not just  to get comments ;)

1.  Can anyone tell me (in 250 words or less) how Google's new privacy policy will affect my life?

2.  I am on the lookout for a good, common sense home remedy resource book.  Any suggestions?  Before you make any, know that I'm not a quack whole foods junky kind-of gal.  I live in the middle of nowhere and have limited resources to get thinks like black mayan copal or some fruitcake thing like that.  I'm looking for something that will have recommendations that my Great Granny Mattie would have used.  Remedies for ear infections, colds, bad attitudes, dirty dishes, etc.

3.  For all my home schoolin' mamas....It's that time of year again when I am doing my perusing for curriculum for next year.  I'm always wanting suggestions for curriculum that you are loving.  I'm particularly interested (this year) in Grammar/Composition and Geography.  But I am interested in hearing about anything that you're loving (or hating) and why.


Now, on to more pressing matters.

The Family Vacation.

This year during The Budget Date (that's a separate post) The Honey told me that I was in charge of determining how we spent any moolah allocated toward a family vacation.  First let me say that our little family is not accustomed to any such 'family vacation.'  I do not considering packing for a family of 6, arranging childcare for the pets, 16 hour car rides, and digging sand out of diapers a vacation.  But this summer, Good Lord willing, all children will be out of diapers.

**insert Hallelujah chorus**

And so, long story short, we have the opportunity to take a vacation.  But I just don't know what to do with this.  Do we take one long vacation (beach, DC, Colonial Williamsburg) or a few smaller spots that are local and a little more toddler friendly (water parks, zoo, camping)?  Which, in the long run, would be more affordable?  Which, at the end of it all, would leave me with half my sanity in tact? 

I hate making decisions.

That is why I married The Honey.

But he is swamped with decision making and he knows that if he makes the decision and I don't like it then he gets to hear about it that whole 16 hour car ride so he stuck me with it. 

He's a big chicken brilliant that way.

So after 20 minutes an eternity researching our options, I'm putting our future in your hands.  What do you think?

I honestly even hate talking about this stuff.  I know that lots of people are struggling with far greater decisions than where to go on a vacation.  And if that is you, Honey, I feel ya.  Remember, I've been in survival mode.  I guess thinking about something other than snot rags and steroids is a mini-vacation in and of itself.  So my apologies if I am a little less 'real world' than I typically like to be. 

I also just read over my post to see if it made sense.  I have to say I am sounding a little scattered.  It could be the decongestant I've been on.  Or that it's Monday.  Either way, sorry if I'm all over the place.

Happy day, Y'all!

There's a Drug For That

I'm so thankful for that well known phrase 'There's an app for that.' But this week I am even more thankful to hear my frequently sought local health care provider say 'There's a drug for that.'

For the past four weeks our family has been battling the crud. And it has taken it's toll. This week it finally culminated into four different doctors appointments diagnosing us with walking pneumonia, bronchitis, ear infections, and tonsillitis. Not to mention one miserable Baby that is cutting his molars. Needless to say we have been in survival mode.

I'm not a fan of survival mode. Survival mode means a sink full of dirty dishes...mounds of dirty laundry...unwritten lesson plans... barely scraping by.

Survive:  verb:  To remain functional or usable

I sure do hope so.  I hope I am remaining usable during these trying times.  When it seems almost impossible to get anything accomplished it helps me put things into priority of what must  be done.  I hope I am maturing enough to learn that laundry and toilets are not priorities. 

Today we managed to sit together during lunch and read about Jesus walking on the water.  I was able to tell the Yahoos that He still gets in our boats with us today, when we are scared....scared of Him....of what He is doing around and in and through us....He gets in our boat with us and calms our fears.  And if that is all we accomplish today I hope I will count that up as productive.  I hope I will rest in the promise that His Word will never return void, that it will produce a harvest 100 fold.

I am seeing clearly these days that God has a desire to intimately and personally teach me about His grace and how it is sufficient for me in my weakest moments. 

These days I'm feeling very weak. 

Some lessons are easier to learn than others. 

But I'm inviting Jesus into my boat with me.  My frail, battered, shaky boat. And whatever it is that He is doing around...in...through me, I let Him remind me not to be afraid. 

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

2 Corinthians 12:9