Okay so here's the deal, I'm a control freak which is an extremely thinly veiled way of saying I'm a worrier. And if I'm having trouble finding something to worry about, I can always create something.
The other thing is, I don't like asking for help, and I particularly don't like asking for prayer. I don't know why. Maybe it means I'm admitting that I don't really have control, which I don't. Maybe it means that I'm weak, which I am. But there are some things going on right now, nothing bad, but just things, that I feel like it's important to pray about. There are big changes coming. There are decisions to be made, and I'm going to move out of comfort zone and ask you to pray. I'm going to trust God to hear these prayers, to answer them in the best way for my family, and the big one, to help me not to worry. Because the good Lord knows I can't do it on my own.
First, our home - We have the plans. We have the lot. We are saving right now toward the down-payment. So now we need our home to sell at the right time. We need a home to live in while we're building. We need wisdom about when to start, and what to do, and who to use for various jobs. We just have a lot of decisions facing us, and I don't want to make mistakes because we don't stop and pray and wait for guidance. I also don't want to be afraid to make decisions because I'm afraid of making a mistake. So yeah, that's perfectly clear and not confusing at all.
Second, my job - I really, really hesitate to put this out there for fear that someone whose kids I taught or that I work with will think that I don't care about my job and the kids I teach. I do. I've taught school for almost ten years, and over the past ten years, I've learned a lot. I've worked hard. I've committed myself, and I feel like I've gotten pretty good at what I do. I'm not perfect. I still make mistakes, but I put a lot into my teaching.
I know to many people it seems like the ideal job. In some ways it is. But over the last ten years, I've seen the workload more than double. I've found myself spending hours upon hours at home working on paperwork just so I'm not weeks behind, and I'm getting to work before seven in the morning in order to get just a little work done. The pressure has become more and more intense, and schools have become more and more competitive, and some days, I think both the kids and I might spontaneously combust.
I know. I sound like I'm ungrateful, and I'm not. I'm extremely grateful that I have a job, and I love the kids. But honestly, I worry that once Allison comes home, both my work and life at home will suffer. I worry that the pressure will affect my parenting in a very negative way. Sometimes, I think it already does. There are days when I leave work so emotionally and physically drained that I just don't want to deal with another problem. And I feel like it's unfair to my family to give more of myself to my job than to them.
My heart's desire, which is really what I'm getting to, is to have a job with more flexibility. I want to have a job where I can be there for my son and daughter. When I went back to work after I had Andrew, he was three months old. I cared. I was upset. I felt like I was abandoning my son, but to tell the truth, he could've cared less. And by the time he was old enough to realize that he was being left everyday, he had adjusted. But with Allison it's going to be different. She will be aware from day one. She will most likely be terrified and confused, and she won't speak English. So while I know that she will most likely have to spend some time away from me, it's very important that we have as much time together as possible to facilitate the bonding between us.
At this point, not working isn't really an option, but I would love to be able to have the flexibility to drop my kids off at school, to go to doctors' appointments and field trips and parties, and well, I would love to have my cake and eat it to. I know that sounds selfish and ridiculous to a lot of people, but I'm putting it out there anyway.
So what exactly do I want prayer for? I have a very hard time putting it into words, or maybe I just think those words sound stupid. I'm asking God to lead me, and guide me, and open the doors that need opening, and close the doors that need closing. I'm asking for, not just a job, but for a place that understands and supports the importance of family. I'm asking for the perfect position for me. Like I said, I'm asking for my cake, and I definitely want to eat it. :)
Wow! That was way longer than I ever intended it to be. Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. Thank you for praying.
Join me in my adventures in parenting, adoption, marriage, faith, and life in general.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Three Things (starting with an adoption update)
1. Our agency received two or three referrals this week! I say two or three because there's a set of twins involved, and I'm not sure if that counts as one or two referrals. But yay for referrals! We're finally seeing movement again.
2. Not working out is dangerous for me. When I work out, I eat healthy. When I don't, I bake. And it's the time of year when I want to bake things like apple pies and gingerbread and buttery scones. It's really not good.
3. Since we've been home this afternoon, Andrew has correctly used the word "apparently" in a sentence, educated me on the finer points of what being a predator means, and informed me that "children need energy to grow". I'm not sure where he gets this stuff. He's a continual source of entertainment.
2. Not working out is dangerous for me. When I work out, I eat healthy. When I don't, I bake. And it's the time of year when I want to bake things like apple pies and gingerbread and buttery scones. It's really not good.
3. Since we've been home this afternoon, Andrew has correctly used the word "apparently" in a sentence, educated me on the finer points of what being a predator means, and informed me that "children need energy to grow". I'm not sure where he gets this stuff. He's a continual source of entertainment.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Politics Take Two
Oh my word, have ever I debated whether or not to post this. It's been sitting in my posts list as a draft for quite some time. I've almost hit publish a dozen times, and then backed out. It's not directed at any one comment or person. It is a result of a number of comments, arguments, and different points of view that I've heard over the last several weeks. Love it or hate it, its my point of view so I guess I'll take a risk and hit publish.
This post isn't really about changing anyone's mind. It's definitely political, but it's more about me putting my opinions out there. Y'all know how I struggle with that. Okay, that's a lie . . . you can quit laughing now.
I've heard a lot lately about not calling our current government, specifically our president, what it/he is . . . about respecting the president because he's the president . . . about, to put it simply, how Christians should keep their mouths shut and just vote. And quite honestly, I disagree.
First off, if you even somewhat understand how the electoral college works (good luck with that . . . it's hands down one of the most confusing parts of our whole election system) then you know that you better do a whole lot more than just count on your vote. Yes, your vote counts, but ultimately, the electoral college casts the votes for each state, and usually the votes follow the popular vote for that state (in some states it's required by law but not in all), but there have been (a very few) cases in history where they have not. Do some research. It's pretty interesting. My point is you need to be educated and understand what's going on. You need to take responsibility not only for your vote but for making your views known.
Second, while I may be a firmly decided voter, not everyone is, and call me crazy, but I think it's somewhat important to call lies . . . well, lies. When someone stands in front of the nation, day after day, week after week, month after month . . . you get my point . . . and tries to destroy this nation (and yes, I do believe we're on the path to destruction), someone better take a stand. If I can change even one mind, then I feel like I've done my job.
Third, our founding fathers stood up for what they believed in. They didn't sit silently by and twiddle their thumbs and hope things would get better. That's what that little thing called the American Revolution was about. Now granted, they didn't have the right to vote. They actually had very few rights. They were being governed without representation, and they decided it was time to fight back. If we don't want to find ourselves in the same proverbial boat, swimming just to keep our heads above water and seeing our freedoms and livelihoods disappear, then we'd better speak up. This is not a benign election. I may sound extremely radical here, but this might quite possibly be one of the most important elections in American history.
Abraham Lincoln spoke of a "government of the people, by the people, for the people". Guess what? This is our government, and if we want things to change then we need to take responsibility for what's happening right now. Years of keeping silent and not standing up for what is right has led us to a nation that is a mess. We are on the brink of a financial and moral catastrophe if things don't change.
In Bible times the Scribes and Pharisees commanded much respect. They were the leaders of the church. They were men with power and positions of honor, and in Matthew 23:33 Jesus referred to them as a "brood of vipers". Early in the same chapter He refers to them as "hypocrites". That's not mild language people.
I don't feel that criticizing the wrong in our government and in our president is counter intuitive to my Christian faith nor do I think that it is disrespectful. Lies are lies folks. And it may be cheesy and cliche but I've said it before and I'll say it again, "If it looks like a duck and it walks like a duck, well then ladies and gentlemen, it's a duck."
This post isn't really about changing anyone's mind. It's definitely political, but it's more about me putting my opinions out there. Y'all know how I struggle with that. Okay, that's a lie . . . you can quit laughing now.
I've heard a lot lately about not calling our current government, specifically our president, what it/he is . . . about respecting the president because he's the president . . . about, to put it simply, how Christians should keep their mouths shut and just vote. And quite honestly, I disagree.
First off, if you even somewhat understand how the electoral college works (good luck with that . . . it's hands down one of the most confusing parts of our whole election system) then you know that you better do a whole lot more than just count on your vote. Yes, your vote counts, but ultimately, the electoral college casts the votes for each state, and usually the votes follow the popular vote for that state (in some states it's required by law but not in all), but there have been (a very few) cases in history where they have not. Do some research. It's pretty interesting. My point is you need to be educated and understand what's going on. You need to take responsibility not only for your vote but for making your views known.
Second, while I may be a firmly decided voter, not everyone is, and call me crazy, but I think it's somewhat important to call lies . . . well, lies. When someone stands in front of the nation, day after day, week after week, month after month . . . you get my point . . . and tries to destroy this nation (and yes, I do believe we're on the path to destruction), someone better take a stand. If I can change even one mind, then I feel like I've done my job.
Third, our founding fathers stood up for what they believed in. They didn't sit silently by and twiddle their thumbs and hope things would get better. That's what that little thing called the American Revolution was about. Now granted, they didn't have the right to vote. They actually had very few rights. They were being governed without representation, and they decided it was time to fight back. If we don't want to find ourselves in the same proverbial boat, swimming just to keep our heads above water and seeing our freedoms and livelihoods disappear, then we'd better speak up. This is not a benign election. I may sound extremely radical here, but this might quite possibly be one of the most important elections in American history.
Abraham Lincoln spoke of a "government of the people, by the people, for the people". Guess what? This is our government, and if we want things to change then we need to take responsibility for what's happening right now. Years of keeping silent and not standing up for what is right has led us to a nation that is a mess. We are on the brink of a financial and moral catastrophe if things don't change.
In Bible times the Scribes and Pharisees commanded much respect. They were the leaders of the church. They were men with power and positions of honor, and in Matthew 23:33 Jesus referred to them as a "brood of vipers". Early in the same chapter He refers to them as "hypocrites". That's not mild language people.
I don't feel that criticizing the wrong in our government and in our president is counter intuitive to my Christian faith nor do I think that it is disrespectful. Lies are lies folks. And it may be cheesy and cliche but I've said it before and I'll say it again, "If it looks like a duck and it walks like a duck, well then ladies and gentlemen, it's a duck."
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Contentment (revisited)
I wrote a post a couple weeks ago about contentment. About how contentment is not about settling, but about trusting God that things will happen in His timing, the right timing. You can read it here if you feel so inclined.
God is still dealing with me about the whole area of contentment. It's an ongoing battle, but the latest front in this battle deals with the subject of comparison. The Internet (Facebook, Twitter, Blogs) feeds comparison like nothing else. How often do we look at other mothers and wives, and think, based upon the very small glimpse of life we get to see, that "she must be a better mother and/or wife than I"? How often do we post pictures, stories, comments, etc. trying to make ourselves look better . . . trying to one-up someone else? Wow! Did I just say that?!? I'm not pointing any fingers, but I'm admitting I've struggled with both. Ummm . . . please don't hate me . . . But let's face it, none of us put out there that we just had a fight with our husband, yelled at our kids, and ate a pound and a half of fudge, and I'm not asking you to. I'm just saying we tend to put our best foot forward when it comes to the world wide web.
Clearly, I know pride and trying to impress others is wrong. It's ridiculous and petty, and I should know better. But God is also showing me that it's equally as wrong to measure our self worth, our "goodness" as wives, or mothers, or whatever it is against others. God didn't create us to go around comparing ourselves to others. He created us to commune with Him. He created us to love Him and to accept His love. And in that there's no room for either comparison or pride.
So I'm learning to be content with who I am. I'm not saying that I need to stop growing or changing as God leads, but I need to stop trying to be perfect. I need to stop trying to do God's job for Him. I need to realize that He sees me as redeemed by His blood, and that my friends is a beautiful thing!
God is still dealing with me about the whole area of contentment. It's an ongoing battle, but the latest front in this battle deals with the subject of comparison. The Internet (Facebook, Twitter, Blogs) feeds comparison like nothing else. How often do we look at other mothers and wives, and think, based upon the very small glimpse of life we get to see, that "she must be a better mother and/or wife than I"? How often do we post pictures, stories, comments, etc. trying to make ourselves look better . . . trying to one-up someone else? Wow! Did I just say that?!? I'm not pointing any fingers, but I'm admitting I've struggled with both. Ummm . . . please don't hate me . . . But let's face it, none of us put out there that we just had a fight with our husband, yelled at our kids, and ate a pound and a half of fudge, and I'm not asking you to. I'm just saying we tend to put our best foot forward when it comes to the world wide web.
Clearly, I know pride and trying to impress others is wrong. It's ridiculous and petty, and I should know better. But God is also showing me that it's equally as wrong to measure our self worth, our "goodness" as wives, or mothers, or whatever it is against others. God didn't create us to go around comparing ourselves to others. He created us to commune with Him. He created us to love Him and to accept His love. And in that there's no room for either comparison or pride.
So I'm learning to be content with who I am. I'm not saying that I need to stop growing or changing as God leads, but I need to stop trying to be perfect. I need to stop trying to do God's job for Him. I need to realize that He sees me as redeemed by His blood, and that my friends is a beautiful thing!
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Feels Like I'm Falling
Actually, "feels" is far from the appropriate word seeing as how I really fell. Hard.
Let me preface this story by saying I'm not the world's biggest klutz. I mean, I know I'm always getting hurt. Like all. the. time. But I'm not a klutz. I promise. Careless? Maybe. Slightly, uncoordinated? Definitely. But I'm not a klutz . . . say it one more time Courtney. Maybe, they'll believe you.
So anyway, Thursday night I was getting dressed to go running. The weather was amazing. It was cool. There was a light breeze, but it wasn't too windy. And I was (key word being "was") finally feeling well-healed and pain free. Finally. So I'm putting on my shoes, and I hear my phone ringing in the kitchen. For some reason, which is beyond me since I have caller i.d., I ran at break-neck speed toward the kitchen to get it. I'm sure I hit the kitchen going at least 5 mph . . . at least. What I had forgotten was that the cleaning lady had come Thursday morning, and when the cleaning lady comes the floors get well cleaned, but they tend to be a little slick for a couple days. I'm not sure what that says about the floors in my house the rest of the time, but it does say I have a fabulous cleaning lady.
So I hit that kitchen floor, left shoe on, right foot in a sock, and that right, sock-clad, foot flew right out from under me. Good thing is, my left foot followed closely behind. I flew ten feet in the air . . . easily . . . or maybe it was three feet, but y'all it felt like ten. Think Marv (or was it Harry?) on Home Alone slipping and flying in the air. I'm pretty sure I looked similar. Hopefully, a little less masculine but still, similar. And then I hit the ground. Hard. My right hip and hand took the brunt of the fall. It knocked the wind out of me for about five seconds. I laid there for about five minutes trying to decide if I would live, and thanking the good Lord that Patrick wasn't there to laugh at me because let's face it, that's the kind of family we are.
Nothing was/is broken, but everything from my shoulder to my ankle is bruised. So I'm back to limping around, and as hard as I try, I can't quite walk normally. Although, today is going better than yesterday. But running is, once again, out of the question. I know because I tried. The elliptical was pretty painful too, but I'm hoping that maybe I can pull it off tonight and go for a run tomorrow.
But like I said earlier . . . I am not the world's biggest klutz. I promise . . .
Let me preface this story by saying I'm not the world's biggest klutz. I mean, I know I'm always getting hurt. Like all. the. time. But I'm not a klutz. I promise. Careless? Maybe. Slightly, uncoordinated? Definitely. But I'm not a klutz . . . say it one more time Courtney. Maybe, they'll believe you.
So anyway, Thursday night I was getting dressed to go running. The weather was amazing. It was cool. There was a light breeze, but it wasn't too windy. And I was (key word being "was") finally feeling well-healed and pain free. Finally. So I'm putting on my shoes, and I hear my phone ringing in the kitchen. For some reason, which is beyond me since I have caller i.d., I ran at break-neck speed toward the kitchen to get it. I'm sure I hit the kitchen going at least 5 mph . . . at least. What I had forgotten was that the cleaning lady had come Thursday morning, and when the cleaning lady comes the floors get well cleaned, but they tend to be a little slick for a couple days. I'm not sure what that says about the floors in my house the rest of the time, but it does say I have a fabulous cleaning lady.
So I hit that kitchen floor, left shoe on, right foot in a sock, and that right, sock-clad, foot flew right out from under me. Good thing is, my left foot followed closely behind. I flew ten feet in the air . . . easily . . . or maybe it was three feet, but y'all it felt like ten. Think Marv (or was it Harry?) on Home Alone slipping and flying in the air. I'm pretty sure I looked similar. Hopefully, a little less masculine but still, similar. And then I hit the ground. Hard. My right hip and hand took the brunt of the fall. It knocked the wind out of me for about five seconds. I laid there for about five minutes trying to decide if I would live, and thanking the good Lord that Patrick wasn't there to laugh at me because let's face it, that's the kind of family we are.
Nothing was/is broken, but everything from my shoulder to my ankle is bruised. So I'm back to limping around, and as hard as I try, I can't quite walk normally. Although, today is going better than yesterday. But running is, once again, out of the question. I know because I tried. The elliptical was pretty painful too, but I'm hoping that maybe I can pull it off tonight and go for a run tomorrow.
But like I said earlier . . . I am not the world's biggest klutz. I promise . . .
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Apologies as Related to Politics and Family Pics
So if you follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed my numerous, insane, political tweets during the debates. Politics . . . taboo blog topic . . . I know. Politics get me wound up, and this year I'm particularly wound for sound. So yeah, you can ignore me if you feel so inclined, but it's not likely to stop. Okay, sorry . . . enough about politics.
It's been a few years since we've taken family pictures, and a friend's boyfriend has recently started a photography business so last Friday night we put on winter clothes, in 90 degree heat, and headed out to take some pics. I'm so pleased with how they turned out. Now I just have to figure out how to decide which one to put on our Christmas card. It is October after all. Time to start Christmas planning. ;) Here's a few of my favorites.
It's been a few years since we've taken family pictures, and a friend's boyfriend has recently started a photography business so last Friday night we put on winter clothes, in 90 degree heat, and headed out to take some pics. I'm so pleased with how they turned out. Now I just have to figure out how to decide which one to put on our Christmas card. It is October after all. Time to start Christmas planning. ;) Here's a few of my favorites.
I just ordered a canvas print of the 3rd one, and I'm trying to decide how to display the others. Any suggestions?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Another Post About How We're Busy . . .
You know how I always say we're insanely busy? Well it's true. We are. Hence the rather sporadic, almost non-existent blogging.
We have three more weeks of soccer. It's been really great, and it's flown by . . . unlike t-ball which lasted exactly 250 years. You think I'm kidding. Two. Hundred. Fifty. Years. No more. No less.
Today, Andrew's school had Preschool Sunday. His preschool is part of the local Lutheran Church, and every year they host Preschool Sunday. The kids sing, the church hosts a lunch, and then the kids play games. It's a lot of fun. And Andrew has the greatest little group of friends. I'll post pictures as soon as I have time. Hopefully, that will be before Andrew graduates from high school.
My running has been a bit hit-or-miss. My pulled muscle is still healing. When my brother, my former cross country running brother, the only brother I have, heard that I pulled a muscle, he promptly gave me a lecture on how I don't stretch enough. That's not news to me. I don't stretch enough. I don't do enough . . . ahem . . . any . . . strength training. I know I should do both, but when it comes down to it, I'm pressed for time, and running is what I want to do, so I run. And then I get hurt, and I regret not stretching or doing strength training. So I've been stretching and working on throwing some strength work in there a few times a week. I also got a foam roller. It seems to help work a lot of the tightness out of my muscles. I'll let you know how it works out.
The house plans . . . well, nothing has happened. If something ever does, you'll be the first (or at least the third) to know.
Tomorrow's another Monday. Crazy that we're halfway through October. Thanksgiving is just over a month away, and then, Christmas! Time it is a'flyin.
Have a great start to your week everyone!
We have three more weeks of soccer. It's been really great, and it's flown by . . . unlike t-ball which lasted exactly 250 years. You think I'm kidding. Two. Hundred. Fifty. Years. No more. No less.
Today, Andrew's school had Preschool Sunday. His preschool is part of the local Lutheran Church, and every year they host Preschool Sunday. The kids sing, the church hosts a lunch, and then the kids play games. It's a lot of fun. And Andrew has the greatest little group of friends. I'll post pictures as soon as I have time. Hopefully, that will be before Andrew graduates from high school.
My running has been a bit hit-or-miss. My pulled muscle is still healing. When my brother, my former cross country running brother, the only brother I have, heard that I pulled a muscle, he promptly gave me a lecture on how I don't stretch enough. That's not news to me. I don't stretch enough. I don't do enough . . . ahem . . . any . . . strength training. I know I should do both, but when it comes down to it, I'm pressed for time, and running is what I want to do, so I run. And then I get hurt, and I regret not stretching or doing strength training. So I've been stretching and working on throwing some strength work in there a few times a week. I also got a foam roller. It seems to help work a lot of the tightness out of my muscles. I'll let you know how it works out.
The house plans . . . well, nothing has happened. If something ever does, you'll be the first (or at least the third) to know.
Tomorrow's another Monday. Crazy that we're halfway through October. Thanksgiving is just over a month away, and then, Christmas! Time it is a'flyin.
Have a great start to your week everyone!
Friday, October 12, 2012
A Contest Blog
Normally, I don't blog about contests, but I love Shabby Apple, and they're having an awesome contest right now. In case you're not sure what Shabby Apple is, it's an online store that sells amazing , classic style dresses and clothing. Right now the running a contest where the winner wins one free dress each month for the next year. Ummm, yes please! So if you're interested check it out.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
The Time I Cried in Front of My Fourth Grade Class: A True Story
One of the books I love to read with my class is "A Paradise Called Texas". The story centers around a little girl whose family immigrates from Germany to Texas in the mid-1800s. It is a great book that really helps the kids understand the hardships that the original settlers faced. But y'all . . . it! is! sad! So sad in fact, that I've actually avoided it for the past couple years.
This year, I decided that I could handle it again. I am strong. I am in control of my emotions. So we started reading a couple weeks ago. Everything was sailing along smoothly. We were enjoying the book. The kids were learning. Then yesterday happened. Yesterday, we got to the chapter where the mother passes away, and I was reading out loud to the class. Stupid considering I knew exactly what was coming! I tried to control myself. I tried not to choke up. But first my voice start quivering. Then the tears started coming . . yeah, I was crying. Thankfully, I teach fourth grade and not eighth. The kids were teary-eyed too instead of laughing at me. But still bursting into tears in front of 22 fourth graders isn't exactly my finest moment.
Well, at least now they know I'm human. We'll put that one down in the books as a bonding moment between my 2012-2013 4th grade class and myself. And in the future I think I'll stick with comedies and adventure novels.
This year, I decided that I could handle it again. I am strong. I am in control of my emotions. So we started reading a couple weeks ago. Everything was sailing along smoothly. We were enjoying the book. The kids were learning. Then yesterday happened. Yesterday, we got to the chapter where the mother passes away, and I was reading out loud to the class. Stupid considering I knew exactly what was coming! I tried to control myself. I tried not to choke up. But first my voice start quivering. Then the tears started coming . . yeah, I was crying. Thankfully, I teach fourth grade and not eighth. The kids were teary-eyed too instead of laughing at me. But still bursting into tears in front of 22 fourth graders isn't exactly my finest moment.
Well, at least now they know I'm human. We'll put that one down in the books as a bonding moment between my 2012-2013 4th grade class and myself. And in the future I think I'll stick with comedies and adventure novels.
Monday, October 8, 2012
The Fit I Threw
Yep, you read it correctly. I threw a fit. In retrospect it was ridiculous. But in the moment I felt completely justified. Completely.
The other night, Patrick and I were discussing the house plans . . . when we are going to start building . . how much we still need to save (about a bazillion dollars) . . . what needs to go . . . what needs to stay . . I started whining (try not to be too shocked). "This is gonna take forever. I'll be forty before we start building (I'm 31 so it's not that far off). Why do you want so much stuff (accusing Patrick of running the bill up)?" And on and on and on and on . . .
It went quickly from whining to gross over-exaggeration to a full-on fit. I have those sometimes. I can spiral quickly out of control, and go from 31 to 11 in seconds. It's one of Patrick's favorite things about me. I got over it pretty quickly. That's one of my strengths. I get over things in a short amount of time. Not that it outweighs the fit, but yeah . . .
So, I got over my fit. Things were put back into perspective. I will not be forty when we finally build. We do need to save more money but a bazillion dollars . . . not quite. I tend to rush headlong into things. Neither Patrick nor myself are known for putting a lot of thought into things before we move forward. But this isn't just a "thing". This is a house. A home. Our home for a long time. The home where we want to raise our children.
And it really got me to thinking about contentment. And what it means to be content. Does it mean that we should settle? Should we give up on our dreams? Should we stay stagnant? Not even close, but restlessness, impatience, frustration all scream dis-contentedness Settling rather than waiting patiently and trusting God for His timing is what you do when you're discontent.
As hard as it is. I realize that in the midst of waiting I need to learn to wait. I need to learn to do it in a contented way. I need to learn to stop rushing into things. Easier said than done . . .
Philippians 4: 11-13
11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
The other night, Patrick and I were discussing the house plans . . . when we are going to start building . . how much we still need to save (about a bazillion dollars) . . . what needs to go . . . what needs to stay . . I started whining (try not to be too shocked). "This is gonna take forever. I'll be forty before we start building (I'm 31 so it's not that far off). Why do you want so much stuff (accusing Patrick of running the bill up)?" And on and on and on and on . . .
It went quickly from whining to gross over-exaggeration to a full-on fit. I have those sometimes. I can spiral quickly out of control, and go from 31 to 11 in seconds. It's one of Patrick's favorite things about me. I got over it pretty quickly. That's one of my strengths. I get over things in a short amount of time. Not that it outweighs the fit, but yeah . . .
So, I got over my fit. Things were put back into perspective. I will not be forty when we finally build. We do need to save more money but a bazillion dollars . . . not quite. I tend to rush headlong into things. Neither Patrick nor myself are known for putting a lot of thought into things before we move forward. But this isn't just a "thing". This is a house. A home. Our home for a long time. The home where we want to raise our children.
And it really got me to thinking about contentment. And what it means to be content. Does it mean that we should settle? Should we give up on our dreams? Should we stay stagnant? Not even close, but restlessness, impatience, frustration all scream dis-contentedness Settling rather than waiting patiently and trusting God for His timing is what you do when you're discontent.
As hard as it is. I realize that in the midst of waiting I need to learn to wait. I need to learn to do it in a contented way. I need to learn to stop rushing into things. Easier said than done . . .
Philippians 4: 11-13
11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Birthday Weekend Palooza
Y'all really Andrew didn't have a birthday, he had a birthday weekend. It was his birthday on steroids. I'll spare you all the pictures and just include a sampling.
Andrew started his birthday weekend on Friday with a "birthday celebration" (his words not mine) at school. I sent cookies because I figured three days of cake might get old . . . okay I doubt it, but cookies were easier. So yeah, mom of the year right here.
Yesterday, Saturday, was his actual birthday. We had a soccer game, and then we rushed home to get everything loaded for the party. His party this year was at the same place that he takes gymnastics during the summer, and I've pretty much decided that it was the most genius idea I've ever had. Seriously, it was a pretty much stress free party, and it sure beat having 14 four and five year olds running around my house.
Andrew started his birthday weekend on Friday with a "birthday celebration" (his words not mine) at school. I sent cookies because I figured three days of cake might get old . . . okay I doubt it, but cookies were easier. So yeah, mom of the year right here.
Yesterday, Saturday, was his actual birthday. We had a soccer game, and then we rushed home to get everything loaded for the party. His party this year was at the same place that he takes gymnastics during the summer, and I've pretty much decided that it was the most genius idea I've ever had. Seriously, it was a pretty much stress free party, and it sure beat having 14 four and five year olds running around my house.
Today, we went to my parents' for a family lunch. I didn't want to subject my grandparents to a party crawling with little kids so when my mom offered to do lunch today, I jumped on it.
My mom has crazy good cake decorating skilz. ;) It was exactly what Andrew requested.
It's been a great weekend celebrating Andrew's 5th birthday. He's enjoyed every minute of it, and I don't think it could've been better.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Five Years . . .
Five years ago today, I was supposed to be at one of my baby showers. Instead, I was in the hospital meeting my baby for the first time. And you know, I could've cared less about the shower.
When I look at him now, it's hard to believe that he was ever this tiny little guy.
When I look at him now, it's hard to believe that he was ever this tiny little guy.
He really is my miracle boy. He's funny, smart, loving, and 100% boy. It's hard to believe he's five, but it's been a huge blessing to watch him grow and learn with each passing day. I can't wait to see what the next year holds.
Happy Birthday Buddy!
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Adoption News: The Latest and Greatest from the Bulgarian Adoption Front
I know it seems like I never do adoption updates. And I don't because there's not much to update. We're just waiting and waiting and waiting, but today I had a great conversation with our caseworker.
First, I have to say that I love our agency and our caseworker. They were not the cheapest agency out there, but for us they just "felt" right from the get go. I know that seems really fruity, but it's true. They maintain regular communication with the adoptive families. We get weekly email updates, we have monthly phone calls, and any time I call or email, I get a response within a few hours (as long as it's during business hours). Generally, I would think this would be standard operating procedure for any adoption agency, but after talking to and communicating with some other families, this is apparently a perk and not a commonality.
Anyway, our caseworker is always so upbeat. Much like myself . . . not really, but one can dream. She is one of those people that always makes you feel encouraged just from having a five minute conversation. Normally, our calls are pretty run-of-the-mill though. Just a quick run through of what's going on, but today, I decided to get brave and ask her how far along she thinks we are in the whole process. I'm always a little hesitant to ask this because let's face it, with my glass half empty mentality, I just figure I'm better off not knowing. That's me all sunshine and daisies. But today I asked. And I was pleasantly surprised. She said she really thinks that we are looking at receiving a referral anywhere from 18 - 26 months after being registered. We've been registered 13 months so I guess we are at least halfway there. The deal is the MOJ is not issuing referrals in the order in which you are registered. They match children to families based on the parameters each family sets, and our caseworker said they're a bit all over the place. Older children and special needs adoptions always get first priority, but still, we are in a good place. Also, the MOJ has been meeting weekly which is awesome, and we should be seeing some more referrals this month. We don't know who they're for yet, but we do know they are coming. Any movement is good movement.
Of course, this is all very tentative. I was fully prepared to wait threeish years so it was refreshing to hear that we may not have to wait quite so long, but either way (even if we wait three years or more . . . ugh, I hope not) I know it's in God's hands. That's the other thing our caseworker reminded of today. God has our child ready for us. He has a plan for us, and it is good.
So tonight I'm asking for specific prayers. I hope they don't sound too selfish. I always worry when I ask for prayer that I'm sounding self-centered. But either way, I'm asking for prayer that things really do begin moving in Bulgaria for all families, but more specifically that our wait is shorter than we anticipated. Please pray that we come in under the 24 month mark, and very specifically (I've used the word specific in some form three times in the last four sentences . . . oops) that I have favor at work when it comes to time off and travel. I don't want to fight with anyone, but I do need to travel when the referral comes in. If we could go in May or June of 2013 that would be amazing. That's extremely optimistic thinking, but it would be amazing none-the-less. No matter what, it's in God's hands. We know that, and like I said earlier, He has a plan for us, and it is good.
I'm leaving you with a picture of Anthony reading Andrew his bedtime story. Sweet way to end a long day.
First, I have to say that I love our agency and our caseworker. They were not the cheapest agency out there, but for us they just "felt" right from the get go. I know that seems really fruity, but it's true. They maintain regular communication with the adoptive families. We get weekly email updates, we have monthly phone calls, and any time I call or email, I get a response within a few hours (as long as it's during business hours). Generally, I would think this would be standard operating procedure for any adoption agency, but after talking to and communicating with some other families, this is apparently a perk and not a commonality.
Anyway, our caseworker is always so upbeat. Much like myself . . . not really, but one can dream. She is one of those people that always makes you feel encouraged just from having a five minute conversation. Normally, our calls are pretty run-of-the-mill though. Just a quick run through of what's going on, but today, I decided to get brave and ask her how far along she thinks we are in the whole process. I'm always a little hesitant to ask this because let's face it, with my glass half empty mentality, I just figure I'm better off not knowing. That's me all sunshine and daisies. But today I asked. And I was pleasantly surprised. She said she really thinks that we are looking at receiving a referral anywhere from 18 - 26 months after being registered. We've been registered 13 months so I guess we are at least halfway there. The deal is the MOJ is not issuing referrals in the order in which you are registered. They match children to families based on the parameters each family sets, and our caseworker said they're a bit all over the place. Older children and special needs adoptions always get first priority, but still, we are in a good place. Also, the MOJ has been meeting weekly which is awesome, and we should be seeing some more referrals this month. We don't know who they're for yet, but we do know they are coming. Any movement is good movement.
Of course, this is all very tentative. I was fully prepared to wait threeish years so it was refreshing to hear that we may not have to wait quite so long, but either way (even if we wait three years or more . . . ugh, I hope not) I know it's in God's hands. That's the other thing our caseworker reminded of today. God has our child ready for us. He has a plan for us, and it is good.
So tonight I'm asking for specific prayers. I hope they don't sound too selfish. I always worry when I ask for prayer that I'm sounding self-centered. But either way, I'm asking for prayer that things really do begin moving in Bulgaria for all families, but more specifically that our wait is shorter than we anticipated. Please pray that we come in under the 24 month mark, and very specifically (I've used the word specific in some form three times in the last four sentences . . . oops) that I have favor at work when it comes to time off and travel. I don't want to fight with anyone, but I do need to travel when the referral comes in. If we could go in May or June of 2013 that would be amazing. That's extremely optimistic thinking, but it would be amazing none-the-less. No matter what, it's in God's hands. We know that, and like I said earlier, He has a plan for us, and it is good.
I'm leaving you with a picture of Anthony reading Andrew his bedtime story. Sweet way to end a long day.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Comparison Trap
So I have this habit as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, teacher, friend, pet owner, . . . Christian . . . you get the point, of comparing myself to others. Comparison is a dangerous thing. When you start comparing you will never measure up, or you will think entirely too highly of yourself. Either way, it's bound to lead to a disaster.
In spite of the fact that I've been told this time and again, I still seem to compare away. And sometimes . . . well honestly, sometimes, I'm pretty proud of myself. I mean have you seen how clean my house is? My clothes are ironed, folded, and put away, and my pantry is alphabetized. And by the way I am a fabulous cook. (Don't take those last three sentences too seriously.) Other times, comparison does nothing but make me feel like dirt.
So the other day, in church none-the-less, I was having a comparison moment. It was during praise and worship, and I was singing my heart out when an annoying little voice (the devil for those confused) whispered, "Do you really think you're good enough to be singing this song? I mean do you really think you have the right to praise." I begin looking around. "Maybe, I'm not." I mean at that moment I would've bet money that I was the only woman in there that had ever yelled at her kid or been obnoxious to her husband. And I firmly believed it was a bet I would win. Thankfully, another voice spoke to me. This one not at all annoying. This one a lot quieter, and honestly, one I fail to hear 99% of the time because in order to hear it, you actually have to shut up and listen. But somehow I heard it this time, "Look around this room. Not a single person in this room is good enough. Not a single person deserves to be here. To be singing praises. Even if you did everything perfectly, if you never committed an outward sin, if you never messed up, your heart would still be all wrong. I am that makes you right. It's my blood that makes you worthy. It's My blood that makes you good enough."
I've always said I believed in a works free salvation meaning that nothing we can do or have done can earn our salvation, but I don't know that I've always believed it. I know that I've always tried to measure up, and well, coming to terms with the fact that I don't isn't easy, and sometimes it just plain stinks. But last Sunday when I realized the truth, that not a single person, aside from Jesus, was or is worthy, it was such a relief. So it only took me 31 years to get that through my thick skull. I'm a swift learner that way.
For the record: When I say I hear voices, I'm not hearing audible voices in my head. I'm not certifiable. I promise. These voices are more like thoughts only I know that they didn't come from me. And the concept of the thought, the whole of what it's saying, comes quickly . . . not necessarily word-for-word. Anyway, thought I should clarify that for y'all. And if God talks to me, He'll talk to you too. All you have to do is be quiet and listen.
In spite of the fact that I've been told this time and again, I still seem to compare away. And sometimes . . . well honestly, sometimes, I'm pretty proud of myself. I mean have you seen how clean my house is? My clothes are ironed, folded, and put away, and my pantry is alphabetized. And by the way I am a fabulous cook. (Don't take those last three sentences too seriously.) Other times, comparison does nothing but make me feel like dirt.
So the other day, in church none-the-less, I was having a comparison moment. It was during praise and worship, and I was singing my heart out when an annoying little voice (the devil for those confused) whispered, "Do you really think you're good enough to be singing this song? I mean do you really think you have the right to praise." I begin looking around. "Maybe, I'm not." I mean at that moment I would've bet money that I was the only woman in there that had ever yelled at her kid or been obnoxious to her husband. And I firmly believed it was a bet I would win. Thankfully, another voice spoke to me. This one not at all annoying. This one a lot quieter, and honestly, one I fail to hear 99% of the time because in order to hear it, you actually have to shut up and listen. But somehow I heard it this time, "Look around this room. Not a single person in this room is good enough. Not a single person deserves to be here. To be singing praises. Even if you did everything perfectly, if you never committed an outward sin, if you never messed up, your heart would still be all wrong. I am that makes you right. It's my blood that makes you worthy. It's My blood that makes you good enough."
I've always said I believed in a works free salvation meaning that nothing we can do or have done can earn our salvation, but I don't know that I've always believed it. I know that I've always tried to measure up, and well, coming to terms with the fact that I don't isn't easy, and sometimes it just plain stinks. But last Sunday when I realized the truth, that not a single person, aside from Jesus, was or is worthy, it was such a relief. So it only took me 31 years to get that through my thick skull. I'm a swift learner that way.
For the record: When I say I hear voices, I'm not hearing audible voices in my head. I'm not certifiable. I promise. These voices are more like thoughts only I know that they didn't come from me. And the concept of the thought, the whole of what it's saying, comes quickly . . . not necessarily word-for-word. Anyway, thought I should clarify that for y'all. And if God talks to me, He'll talk to you too. All you have to do is be quiet and listen.
Monday, October 1, 2012
An Injury and A Story
I pulled a muscle in my "inner" thigh area. I'm trying to be all ladylike and not say the groin word. But yeah anyway . . . it hurts. It really hurt on Saturday and Sunday. Today, it's slightly less painful, but it's still bugging me. So I'm not working out. I don't think I hurt it running. Actually, I think I hurt shoving full laundry baskets around with my right leg. Laundry basket injury. I must now abstain from doing laundry (as if), but I do know I need to rest. I tend to be the crazy type of person who takes three ibuprofen and goes for a run in spite of the pain. That's how I crippled myself last spring and ended up spending six weeks limping around. This time, I've decided (read forced myself) to go ahead and rest up front. I'd rather not be crippled all the way through Christmas. Remind me of that will you?
I'm also, trying to figure out how my running is going to work now that it's getting dark earlier. A while back I went running, and it got dark faster than I had expected. Our little subdivision is on the edge of town, and in order to get to the entrance you have to run down a stretch of road with few houses and almost no street lights. Talk about creepy. My time was really good that night probably because I was afraid the boogy man was about to grab me. My point is, I'm glad it's cooler, and I'm really glad it's fall, but this getting dark at 7:30 thing is messing with my running. And you all know I hate the treadmill. Just looking at it hurts my head. So I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Because you know next to war, poverty, starvation, and famine my running schedule is a real problem. Shallow much?!?
So I keep meaning to tell y'all a story, and then I keep forgetting. Week before last, I ran (drove) to San Marcos to do some birthday shopping for Andrew. While I was over there, I decided to run in Panda Express and grab something to eat. Not everyone's favorite I know, but I like it. So I get in line behind two elderly couples. And I wait . . . and wait . . . and wait as they sample everything (I mean everything) on the menu. One of the men kept saying, "Let me try some of that there meat". The other couple didn't speak English so I don't know what they were saying. So while I'm waiting, another older couple comes in behind me, and the wife stands there for a minute and then proceeds to flip out. I mean she starts having a spaz attack about the food. She looks at her husband and says, "They're eating all the food. They're gonna eat it all, and there's not gonna be any left for us. Look there! Did they just take the last of what I like?". Her husband doesn't answer her. He doesn't even look at her. She then turns to me and says, "Well, he can't hear a word I'm saying. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get my food?" Lucky me. Y'all at this point I'm trapped between three couples, all over the age of 70, two of which are making a meal out of samples, and one of which was comprised of a deaf man and his overly dramatic wife. I was speechless which I'm pretty sure most people thought was an impossibility. I really wanted to laugh, but maintained my composure as best I could. Thankfully, the couples in front of me finally ordered so I could get my food and make my escape. And for the record, everyone got everything they wanted. Because once again next to war, poverty, starvation, and famine, getting what we want at Panda Express is what really matters.
So there you have it. I promised you an injury and a story and you got both. Almost as good as prime time television . . . or not.
I'm also, trying to figure out how my running is going to work now that it's getting dark earlier. A while back I went running, and it got dark faster than I had expected. Our little subdivision is on the edge of town, and in order to get to the entrance you have to run down a stretch of road with few houses and almost no street lights. Talk about creepy. My time was really good that night probably because I was afraid the boogy man was about to grab me. My point is, I'm glad it's cooler, and I'm really glad it's fall, but this getting dark at 7:30 thing is messing with my running. And you all know I hate the treadmill. Just looking at it hurts my head. So I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Because you know next to war, poverty, starvation, and famine my running schedule is a real problem. Shallow much?!?
So I keep meaning to tell y'all a story, and then I keep forgetting. Week before last, I ran (drove) to San Marcos to do some birthday shopping for Andrew. While I was over there, I decided to run in Panda Express and grab something to eat. Not everyone's favorite I know, but I like it. So I get in line behind two elderly couples. And I wait . . . and wait . . . and wait as they sample everything (I mean everything) on the menu. One of the men kept saying, "Let me try some of that there meat". The other couple didn't speak English so I don't know what they were saying. So while I'm waiting, another older couple comes in behind me, and the wife stands there for a minute and then proceeds to flip out. I mean she starts having a spaz attack about the food. She looks at her husband and says, "They're eating all the food. They're gonna eat it all, and there's not gonna be any left for us. Look there! Did they just take the last of what I like?". Her husband doesn't answer her. He doesn't even look at her. She then turns to me and says, "Well, he can't hear a word I'm saying. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get my food?" Lucky me. Y'all at this point I'm trapped between three couples, all over the age of 70, two of which are making a meal out of samples, and one of which was comprised of a deaf man and his overly dramatic wife. I was speechless which I'm pretty sure most people thought was an impossibility. I really wanted to laugh, but maintained my composure as best I could. Thankfully, the couples in front of me finally ordered so I could get my food and make my escape. And for the record, everyone got everything they wanted. Because once again next to war, poverty, starvation, and famine, getting what we want at Panda Express is what really matters.
So there you have it. I promised you an injury and a story and you got both. Almost as good as prime time television . . . or not.
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