Carrie Underwood's Amazing Leg Workout

My guess my friends is that it doesn't involve sitting on the couch searching through Pinterest.

 

Profile Activated!

It's official! Our profile with Deaconess Pregnancy and Adoption Services is active!

We've been in the "one last thing" cycle for a few weeks but we're on the website and all-the-way-approved as of this morning.

Please join us in praying for our birth family, for the child who will come, and for us as we wait to see how the Lord continues to work.

 

Lent

And for those of you who, like me, were raised in certain faith heritages, I don't mean the stuff I sometimes forget to clean out of the dryer between loads.

 Lent.

Previously, if you asked me what I know about Lent I could tell you two things:
1. It's not something "we" (aka those in my faith heritage) really do
2. The only person I've really ever known to even talk about Lent was a friend of mine in high school.  Very tongue-and-cheek she would look at me every year (as if the joke was a new one each time) and say "This year for Lent I'm giving up sex."  She thought this was a pretty clever statement since it sounded good and, since she was not sexually active, it was pretty easy to achieve.

But this year, I feel like Lent is calling my name.

Last week, Friday, in the school office someone mentioned how her blood sugar test would be easier because she was giving up chocolate for Lent.  I kind of chuckled inside, I might not know much about Lent but I'm pretty sure that's not exactly what it's about.  But a thought started pestering me- how about you, what you are giving up?

I tried to reason with this thought and tell it that we don't really do Lent.  So as far as I was concerned I wasn't giving up anything.  Instead I questioned back- I mean really, what is the purpose of it all anyway?

And then I started realizing how I normally just slide into Easter every year, not really feeling like it's any other Sunday (other than all the kids in cute outfits).  And that for me, it's always seemed to be more about baskets, egg hunts, and chocolate.  And not really about celebrating the day that would forever change the world- the day Christ rose.

So I said okay to the thought- Okay. You show me where I need to work, where God can take something away for 40 days and help me grow and I'll do it.  I mean I don't smoke, drink, cuss, or eat too much so on the basic lenten resolutions I'm good.  And I don't want to be like my high school friend and "give up" that which doesn't really matter.  So I told the thought to show me and God can have it.  Whether I come from a faith heritage of lent-followers or not, he can have it.

Now you would think.  You'd think! That I would stop drawing lines for God.  You'd think after all those times I've told God if he can do _________ I'll do ________ . All the times I've found myself doing what I didn't think would have to be followed through on, you'd think I would know that if I open that door- I'm going to have go through it.

But maybe I knew- maybe I knew if I drew the line, I'd be shown something.  Maybe that's okay with me because maybe I'm coming to see why participating in Lent isn't just something other sects of faith do.  Maybe it's something I should do too. 

Let's think through this-- Most Christians celebrate Christmas.  You may differ on whether you tell you kids about Santa or whether you really even do a gift exchange.  But even some of the more conservation fundamentalists I know have said they celebrate Christmas as a time to honor the day Jesus Christ was born not because it's historically accurate, not because we know that Christ was born on December 25, but because if the rest of the world is going to slow down and celebrate his birth- acknowledge his importance, they can too.

So then, why not Lent?  I know Lent itself, like December 25, isn't in the Bible but the Passover can be exactly pinned down and thus so can the death of Christ.  And if you can count to three, then you can the day he rose. 

And if you're a person of faith, and you believe the Bible, you can believe what Luke says, how he tells us Christ going to Jerusalem wasn't a happenstance.  He didn't wake up one morning and think "yup, yup, good day to die.  So let's do this thing."  No, Luke tells us he resolutely turned to Jerusalem.

And yet, most Easter Sundays I wake up with more of a "let's do this thing" mentality than one who has resolutely prepared herself for being there.

And yes, I should be doing that every week- working towards resolutely being there every Sunday. (I mean I'm there Sunday mornings but I mean really being there.)  But like Christmas- I know I need to celebrate the fact that God came in flesh everyday  I just don't.  I get busy.  I run around doing and being and trying to serve God where I am as I am, but I'm not always celebrating his birth as actively as I do in December.  Because in December everything starts to revolve around Christ's birth and it's easier for me to remember (all those little babies and managers and Gloria around make it easier).

So why not slow down now.  In this lenten season.  When so many believers are turning towards Jerusalem, preparing to, in their own way, prepare for Easter- Why not stop and see where I can pair down as well.  How can I best demonstrate my resolution to die to my will and follow God's?

Not even three days after I overheard the office worker, two days after I decided that if there was something I'd do it, I was at the grocery store and I was shown.  I was shown something I do every day.  EVERY. DAY.  That in its own little way puts my trust in me over God.  Not like salvation trust, I know I can't save myself.  But the trust that I can control what people think of me- how they see me.  How much they like me.  Control how I can still feel good about myself even if they don't like me.  Every day I wake up and take my identity in my hands and control it.

Now, unlike something that could harm my body, my temple, I don't think God is sad that I do this every day.  It doesn't harm my body and in fact I like to think he rather enjoys the creativity this action brings.  I think God likes seeing the creativity (after all, he's pretty creative himself).

But I do think what isn't right is how I hang my identity on it.  How I feel that this, other than finding my identity as a child of God, is how I see who I am- how I base who I am (and truth be told, how I compare myself to others).

And so, as someone who have never ever looked at Lent as something I would ever be a part of, I'm in it.  I'm here, lenting myself if you will.  Not because I think God needs this from me, but because I need to learn something about more about God more about how he sees me.
 

The Closest I Ever Got to Mardi Gras

***Warning- I am unsure if my mother knows this story but I'm fairly certain the statute of limitations has run out on it. If I happen to be wrong- Mom, please forgive.***

The closest I ever got to Mardi Gras was my freshman year in college.  The Saturday before Mardi Gras my friend A (whose mother hated/hates me for all the crazy things I talked this small town girl into doing in the name of college freedom) and I decided it was perfectly reasonable (okay probably I decided and convinced A it was a good idea) that two 19-year-old girls could drive from Oklahoma City to New Orleans, sleep in their car (to save money of course-- see logical thinking here), and then attend the Mardi Gras festivities the following day.  We would be perfectly safe.

When we ran this idea by A's boyfriend at the time, he was less than impressed with our creative plan for fun.  He, who was the "chaperone" on my roommate's tattooing adventure down to Dallas, decided the plan would be much safer if he was there to at least sleep in the car with us.

Brilliant.  It was decided we would leave Monday morning.

Only then did we check the calendar to realize that Mardi Gras had been the week before.

The Lord protects the stupid that's for sure!

 

Clarification- I've Never Lived in Mexico

While riding in the car on the way home from Sonshine School is begins to divulge what he told the lady who drives the pick up van.

"I told her we use to live in Mexico." He said quite proud of himself.

"ISH! You can't tell people that." I replied

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, it's not true."

He sat there looking a bit puzzled.  So I tried to explain a little better why this might become complicated in case the whole fiction-reality thing wasn't enough for him.

"What if one of the teachers comes to ask me why we lived in Mexico or what about this or that about Mexico. I wouldn't know what to say because we have never. live. in. Mexico."

"Oh don't worry about that." He assured me.  "I listened very well in my World Explorers class when we studied about Mexico. I told her all she'd ever need to know.  There won't be a need to ask you questions about anything."

Sock Monkey

In 3rd grade the kids have monthly projects to help them learn about something or another. This month's project was to read a non-fiction book about an animal and make a power point, diorama or 3-D model of the animal.

Geo really wanted to do his project on a tiger, but he was beaten to the punch by another classmate, so he "settled" for the red crowned mangabey monkey (aka the red capped mangabey).

Geo was going to do a power point for his presentation complete with "all those fun things that spin and turn" and I think LK (a power point truest who believes they are actually better sans flying graphics and about 75% of the words most people fit on one slide) almost had to disown him.

Thankfully peace (and inheritance) was managed to remain intact with the suggestion of making a 3-D SOCK MONKEY!!!!

But since this was Geo's project- it's wasn't going to be me making this monkey- Geo had to do his fair share.  So he helped measure where to cut (socks provided by LK).

 (Don't worry about Geo huge hand there the left.  It's actually mine)

Then, because I have this fear of sewing machine needles going through fingernails (I'm not sure where I got from but man I have it!) I only let Geo help with the foot of the machine while I ran the fabric through.  He did a great job keeping the pressure even.

He also had to help me stuff the monkey.

(Ish is very excited that the monkey is getting some depth to him)

He helped sew him up once he was stuffed.

He helped me layout the tail.  Red crowned mangabeys have a white tip on the tail so we used part of a white sock turned inside out on the tip to give a "realistic" look.

He helped sew all the arms and legs and ears and the tail on by hand.

And he helped tie on the 457 pieces of red, orange and brown embroidery floss to make the crown.

He did a great job working on his first sewing project!

And I think we got a pretty good likeness to the real thing:

Now if only we can calm down all of his late night monkey business

Sorry ... I really am. ... But you know ... it had to be said :)

In Memory of Lisa

Among other things, regular Saturday things, that I spent yesterday doing, I spent yesterday preparing egg salad for the meal of condolences in honor of my friend Lisa.  She wasn't my bestie but she has been in my life for the last 3 years as Geo and her son have attended school together.  We've helped together with class parties and talked as our kids have played together at birthday parties and summer pool gatherings.

Twenty months ago Lisa found melanoma and fought hard to beat it.  But the last time I saw her, on the last day before winter break, she told me all that was left to do now was pray.  She and her husband were researching experimental treatments and trying to see if there were any last ditch efforts she could qualify for (explaining the complications of cell matching and the like that qualified or disqualified her from such treatments).  But in reality, she looked tired.  In reality this once vibrant, ultra-involved mom, sat in a chair in the boys' classroom and said how thankful she was that family was coming in to help do the things she no longer had the energy to do.

Within one month Lisa's kidneys and liver had shut down and she passed away.

I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I think pale is beautiful, to lie and say I don't like a bit of that "healthy glow" a suntan brings.  Or sit here and tell you that I didn't spend summers as a kid, as a young adult, laying out to get tan.

But I will tell you this- burying someone at 44, seeing a son without a mother, a husband without a wife- it's enough to have me lathering up (and calling my brother the dermatologist at every new fleck on my skin).

It has me hoping that you, or someone younger than you is willing to watch this video and make the change too.