tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2650412902003627972024-03-12T23:23:03.196-07:00Ms. Mommy Poppins: Practically Imperfect in Every WayRachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-75859236880016586232017-11-19T06:51:00.001-08:002017-11-19T06:56:12.453-08:00Would you be my friend? <span style="font-family: "calibri";">Growing up, I wasn’t always on the “in crowd.” Well, I
suppose I was on the fringes of the popular group where I would walk around
with the super fly girls with my tight rolled jeans and Aquanet plastered bangs
flopping in the wind at recess, but not a full fledged<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>B.F.F. with golden heart locket carrying
member. In 6<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> grade I remember really longing to be invited to a birthday
party plus pillow fight inducing sleepover of the “double threat girls,”
wielding both brains and beauty. But, alas I did not have the coveted handmade
invite slipped into my knock off JanSport inspired bookbag. As if it wasn’t
painful enough, on Monday morning I would hear all about their life-altering
facemasks and prank calls to the cute boys, with jealousy swallowed down hard. In
my heart I longed to be in their inner circle of friends, but in the midst of my
pain, the Lord gave me beautiful, lasting friendships with fellow like-minded,
and faithful young ladies. So why did I so desperately want the invite to be
with my popular classmates? With time and maturity, I thankfully grew to be
content in the friendships God so lovingly put in my path. Well, most of the
time… until social media gives me glimpses of what I’m potentially “missing out
on” seeing the selfie worthy adventures that other ladies are having without me
on a daily basis. I don’t consider myself a jealous person. I can see pictures
of friend’s perfectly decorated homes, exotic trips, fancy dinner dates, and
more, but it doesn’t strike a nerve in my heart until I see friendships I’m
missing out on. I’m still processing what the Lord wants me to do with those
feelings, but it really got me thinking that if I’m feeling this disappointed,
hurt or jealous, I know I’m not the only woman that had tinges of jealousy
seeing the fabulous times of friends, in which we didn’t get the invite. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I truly reflect
on the goodness of God with friendships in my life over the years, it’s so
beautiful that I can only shake my head in disbelief and awe at the goodness of
God, in giving me such rich friendships in most stages of life these 38 years. Sadly,
I know that’s not always the case with many of us ladies. We long for deep,
meaningful friendships, and we find loneliness and isolation instead, which
often leads to depression, discouragement and jealousy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Last month, traveling to California, I was overwhelmed with
a renewed sense of friendship with two friends. One whom I already had a strong
connection, and one whose friendship blossomed through more time spent
together. The Lord has His hand on our lives in a pretty tangible way as a trio,
and in recent days, women who didn’t know us from Adam’s housecat would notice
our friendship and verbalize their longing for deep, soul connecting
friendships. It did help that we had matching BFF necklaces, for reals, made by
the loving and skilled hands of a friend, and given as a beautiful, generous
gift. A Bible verse is written on the necklaces which reads, Ecclesiastes 4:12,
“A chord of 3 strands is not easily broken.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">After a young woman powerfully gave us words of
encouragement for our futures, she verbalized her<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>longing for this same bond of friendship, and
we were able to pray for her to receive this gift in this new season in her
life. It was so life giving, to release this mantle of friendship to her, when
I had not even realized it was a gift that we had, and through the power of the
Holy Spirit, it is a gift to be given away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I learned last month about praying for others to receive
from the Holy Spirit, the same gift that has been given to us, and in this
case, it was the gift of friendship. (Revelation 19:10 …For the testimony of
Jesus is the spirit of prophesy.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
never seen this as a true gift, and the more I look back at my life, I can see
the Lord’s hand and provision of friendship in so many seasons of life. I’ve
had a lifetime of treasuring women’s friendship through grade school, high
school, college, graduate school, early military spouse years, young motherhood
years, and now in my time of really being settled in who I am in my late
thirties stage of life. Again, I shake my head, in God’s goodness, in giving me
rich friendships, especially after a week of enjoying and growing deeper into a
sisterhood level of friendship with two women in similar seasons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So now, I think to myself, this would be selfish to not
share the secret sauce of friendship, and how I’ve learned to receive the gift
of friendship with others. If I could share this gift and pray over every woman
that longs for true friendship, I totally would be up for that prayer sesh.
But, alas, I haven’t earned enough frequent flyer points to visit you all, and
so this writing will have to be the jump start for those who may have this true
longing and desire for friendship. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">On the fly, these are my keys to the friendship world, that
I have found to be true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">1)</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Open your
eyes</b>. Notice the like-minded ladies around you. These are potential friends
that God is sending you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
being in a lonely place after our family moved to a new town via military
orders, and praying that God would send me a mom-friend. After what seemed like
months of loneliness, He finally did and I encountered a mom with 2 kids the
same ages, and one on the way as well at the time, and we both knew instantly,
that we were in the same boat, and needed each other to survive this crazy life
with our “littles.” And I can tell you now, it was the start of a beautiful
friendship because I opened my eyes to the woman he had come across my path. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">2)</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Never
assume</b>. I would often assume that ladies established in an area already had
their village, and didn’t need any more friends, so I would hang my head down
low, and walk away. I always later learned that they too were praying and
longing for connection, and my company was worthy of true friendship. So never
assume that another person doesn’t need you as much as you need them in their
life for human connection and fellowship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">3)</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Take a
risk. </b>Invite a potential new friend to coffee. You may not hit it off with
every person you try to chat it up with, but just like a first date, you need
to try to see if you have an instant connection with someone. Sometimes
opposite personalities actually click well together, and you can become friends
with someone who doesn’t look like you, or even have the same interests. But
friendship is always surprising and unpredictable like that. So, take a risk,
and just try to connect through doing life and inviting a potential friend to
join you in it. Even if it’s just getting in the car to do errands, going for a
walk with your baby around the neighborhood, or having coffee at your house as
the kids play dress up, you’d be surprised at who would enjoy just hanging
together for the company when you ask. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Be the
friend you’ve always wanted. </b>Sometimes it starts with you showing up, and
meeting a friend’s functional needs, and eventually the same is done for you. A
friend had a baby, and needs a meal. It’s a no brainer to provide a meal for
them. And next time you’re sick and your tiny humans have the nerve to still be
hungry for dinner, ask a friend to help you out. You would want a friend to ask
you, right? So just do what you’d expect of someone else, and this goes two
ways of serving your friend and being WILLING to be served (which sometimes includes
asking for help.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">5)</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Be loyal.</b>
Lastly, to keep a friend, don’t gossip, share things you shouldn’t share, and
in general keep it positive. If you wouldn’t want something shared about you,
you probably shouldn’t be sharing it to another friend. Point out the gold in
your friends, whether they are in front of you, or not. Always point out the
praiseworthy thing, and show up for them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My prayer for you, dear one is
that the Lord would meet you where you are, and you would have a divine
encounter with someone that He has lined up for you to really click with today.
My friends and I release the mantle of friendship over you in the name of
Jesus, and the power of the Holy Spirit, that you may have soul satisfying
friendships, where the belly laughs and inside jokes over poop emojis and the
like, will have no end. Until of course you realize that the tiny humans are
too tired to put up with your silly mommy shenanigans anymore, and you all have
to go home and hit the hay. But not until you put another “game night with
friends” on the calendar for next week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Even as I scroll through Facebook
with my morning coffee, and see what I may be missing out on with friends I
know (or as I reflect on the 6<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> grade sleepovers I missed out on as
a kid,) I realize that God has surrounded me with exactly who He wants me to
connect with when I simply obey His leading and say “yes” to soul satisfying friendships
and community. God, you’re so loving! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Love is patient and kind. Love is
not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is
not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice
about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out. Love never gives up,
never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.”
I Corinthians 13:4-8 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-1643308859873843122017-10-07T09:27:00.000-07:002017-10-07T09:27:25.034-07:00You're Awesome
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Have you ever just longed for an encouraging word? Felt so
discouraged in your soul, that you just pray that God would put someone across
your path to lift you up? “Please, anyone, I need a word of encouragement!” I
inwardly cry out, without verbalizing the need to anyone in the flesh. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times when I’m feeling weary with the
sleepless nights of young motherhood, long days of working, and juggling all
the balls we juggle as parents, I just ask the Lord to give me a word. Just
anything that is a message from Him, to me, through a fellow human on earth. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I must admit that Sunday mornings can be trying times as a
mom with a quiver full of 4 adorable, yet challenging young ones. With my
husband serving on the greeting team at church from set up around 7:30 am til tear
down, mid afternoon, that often means that I’m on my own to get our 4 kids (did
I mention we have 4 kids? And yes we know where babies come from) fed, dressed,
and out the door. On time…well that’s the goal anyway. Some mornings, my “big
three” will get along quite nicely, nicely, and pick out their own mismatched
clothes with pride, (I choose my battles wisely and am grateful for a flip
flops are the “norm” church) and things click along fairly routinely. But for
things to go smoothly without hiccups, it’s more of the exception than the rule
for our Sundays. Most Sundays before church, I’m often breaking up fights over
broken Legos, who ate the last piece of sausage, or who let the baby crawl up
the steps unattended. On mornings that are stressful, I have been known to lose
my you know what, and briefly, but abruptly scream in the smelly soccer socks
strewn mini-van on the way to worship, and threaten to pull over the vehicle
before I can’t see straight to drive. Fortunately, within a few minutes, and
when they settle down with deer in the headlights eyeballs after mommy just
raised her voice, I compose myself, apologize for overreacting (while still
explaining the “why” behind my brief madness) and keep driving in the direction
we need to go, but it’s not always a rosy picture or a heart focused on the
Lord, pre-worship experience. So, one morning, after a rough go at a start to
the day of “rest,” I finally arrive, barely on time to church with my brood of
4, hurriedly check them into childcare, and have my brightly colored, yet baby
drool stained church tee on and externally ready to “serve” with a smile on my
face, and tears hidden to all behind my eyes. And praying that no one asks me,
“How are you…REALLY?” I forgot my waterproof mascara. On the outside I’m
looking and smelling so recently showered in millennial approved skinny jeans
with cuffs rolled, TOMS, and coordinating long tassel necklace, but on the
inside I’m thinking, “I am a horrible person. I just yelled at my kids on the
way to God’s house of all places, and muttered a few bad words under my breath.
Not the worst of the bad words, mind you, but words that shouldn’t be silently whispered
across my lips at 9 in the morning, preparing my heart to worship and serve in
the Kingdom. Ugh. I am horrible. Lord, give me some sort of encouragement,
because I just want to crawl into a hole and cry. Or sleep. Sleep would be
nice.” Those are my thoughts as I smile and greet newcomers coming in the door,
ushering them to their pre-ordained seats, as the worship band music plays triumphantly,
and I grin, nod, and say, “Good morning, we’re so glad you’re here!”, my mind
still racing about the terrible morning I just experienced with my miniature
sinners, I mean blessings on my day “off.” I think, “Lord, this is my time to
reflect on you and your goodness, and your mercy and love. Why does it have to
be such a trying time, every FREAKING Sunday??” I’m exasperated. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The music plays on with another upbeat song,
and I contemplate the lyrics, that He is a good, good Father. He is- and I know
He is, but I am still really longing for some of His goodness, right NOW before
I have a panic attack walking people to their seats. Then, a friend brushes by
me, touches the small of my back, and whispers, “You’re awesome,” and keeps
walking. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I stood in the back of the dimly
lit auditorium and serve, and fake smile through my coffee stained teeth, with
pain and hurt behind my eyes, and greet others to make them feel welcome, I’m
awesome. Tears well up more, but this time in the best way possible. And I know
that God gave her a word for me in that moment. Thank you Father. Thanks for
that word. He is a good, good Father, that gives good gifts to His children,
and in that moment, I needed to know by another human, that God thinks I’m
awesome. I’m not the perfect mom, wife, or volunteer. But I obeyed, even in my
weakness and said, “Yes,” to God when asked to greet on His behalf and for His
glory, and showed up to serve in His Kingdom on earth, and I’m making a difference,
one, “Good morning,” at a time. And because He’s good, Jesus declares me
awesome. Not by my works, but by His spotless life, death and resurrection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">That was just a moment in time, one foggy memory of a Sunday
morning, and weeks have gone by now, but the words have stuck with me. “You’re
awesome. “ Me. I’m awesome. The Lord wanted to speak to my discouraged, broken
heart, that in the midst of this beautiful mess in our hard, but cherished
family years, He made me, and I’m enough. I’m awesome. Not perfect. Not without
fault, but my Father still sees me for whom He made me to be, through Jesus’
shed blood on the cross, a new creation. Awesome. Wow. Thank you Lord. And
thank you Jesus with skin on, my friend who spoke those words into being. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">As I ponder that moment of encouragement now, I think, why
do I not speak more into other’s lives like that? I try, and do sparingly, but
not as freely and generously as I should. The Holy Spirit often speaks softly
in my ear, and sometimes I listen, and sometimes I obey. One day at a shaved
ice stand with our family, He told me, “Hey, tell that mom you like her hair.”
What? Why? She has a mix of brunette and gray hair, youth mingled with age. I
hesitate and think, that compliment, though well intended, may sound weird to
her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Just trust me, she needs the
encouragement, right now. You know who you are, but she needs to hear who she
is in Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is beautiful.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we sat shoulder to shoulder at brightly
stained with rainbow colored syrup picnic tables I turned my head and made eye
contact with a mom around my own age. The sun was beaming down upon us, melting
our colorful iced treats, as our kids loudly slurped, and I sheepishly verbalized
a direct compliment about her hair being naturally beautiful in color. Immediately
her face lit up with joy. She smiled, touched her salt and pepper hair and
blushed, and thanked me graciously. The mom of two proceeded to tell me the
story of how she went gray pre-maturely in her 20s and has dyed it for years,
battling her roots that had betrayed her, until recently when she finally took
the plunge to be naturally speckled and gray. And confessed that she was
beginning to love this new found freedom, from the dye bottle, but still felt
like she didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. This fellow human, heart pumping
with feelings and emotions, said she really was thankful for me noticing, and
we exchanged names, children’s schools, the usual suspect mom demographics, and
genuine smiles and laughs, and went along our way as our kids licked the sides
of their sticky cups. “How hard was that?” says the Spirit to me. I internally
reply, well, not difficult at all, and quite a delightful Spirit led exchange,
I must admit. “Then do more of this; it’s a free gift to others who need my
love and encouragement.” I understood, and we went on with our kid centric day
of whines until melt down, then recovery, and creative dinners of “must-gos”
aka leftovers, too tired to cook. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Words. Words mean things, my husband often tells our
sponge-like children. Well, isn’t that obvious? It should be, but we don’t
always live this practice out for the good of the hearer. Words can tear down,
or build up. Words are free, but costly. Words have weight to them, for the
good or evil. Why are we often so free with using the weighty words on social
media, our tongues lashing out through the taps of a tablet, yet we are not as
free with our words of encouragement to build others up? We can easily point
out what all is wrong in the world, and how someone else should fix it, yet, we
are so hesitant to build one another up with our words, both written and spoken.
Our words are heavily guarded as if we have only so many compliments, words of
encouragement, or positive things to say before we run out. So we keep any positive
dialogue close to our chest where it is safe, and we don’t share the words that
may be the idea or phrase someone is longing for someone to tell them. We as
fellow humans experiencing life together, have this verbal gift, and we
withhold. Why? Do we think that by saying something kind, we will somehow have
our own invisible super power weakened, like Superman being too close to the
feared kryptonite? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve found that when
I know who I am in Christ, a new creation, daughter of the Most High, dearly loved
and cherished, I am free to give. Give with my words, knowing it’s in no way
taking away from who I am in Christ. I know who I am, but I am called to point
out something beautiful, noble or noteworthy in someone else, that they may be
questioning as worthy or not. A lot of times, I believe, we as earth dwellers,
are walking around, experiencing life together, wondering, “Am I awesome?”
Everyone else may look like they have it together, but we internally wonder,
“If someone else sees that I’m worthy, I’d believe it. But until then… I’m
feeling discouraged. Depressed. Anxious. Unworthy. Anything but awesome.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I challenge you my friends, see the awesome. And speak it
into being. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen for the Holy Spirit
to show you the things that make someone unique. Know who you are in Christ, so
that you may freely give gifts of verbal encouragement. Point out the good you
see in others. Maybe you see that someone is a natural with children on the
soccer fields, and would make a great coach. By speaking it, you may give that
person the confirmation to do the thing he or she is thinking of, to volunteer
next season and coach and mentor young kids learning the game. It may be a
young lady who always has her makeup done flawlessly. You may assume that she
knows she’s gorgeous, good at this art form, but never assume. Speak up and
tell her what talent she has in artistically applying make up, and you may be
the one to encourage her to go into cosmetology, her passion. Our family saw a
young man working at a burger joint with clear leadership skills and an amazing
work ethic, every time we went into the restaurant. My husband spoke life into
this young man, and told him the potential he had to become a Marine and months
down the road, he graduated at the top of his class at Marine boot camp, from
those words of recognition as a springboard to success. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever
is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is
admirable- whatever is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things.”
Philippians 4:8<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who
love it will eat its fruit.” Proverbs 18:21<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Think life. Then, speak life. See the gray hairs of life,
the beautiful imperfections, and verbalize them to a perfect stranger. You
never know what may spring forth from your words of encouragement. When in
doubt, always let someone know, that Jesus has made them, awesome.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-68134141554954560152017-03-05T04:37:00.003-08:002017-03-05T04:37:52.154-08:00Parenting is hard.I love being a mother. As a young child people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I would often say without hesitation, "I want to be a mommy when I grow up!" I meant that truly. It did not mean I didn't have aspirations for any other things, but to me that was my highest calling. Motherhood. Fast forward 30 years later and I am a mother of four beautiful children, ages spanning from 9 years to 4 months old. The Lord has blessed our family immensely. They are so precious and healthy and well, in fact, that I often feel like I don't have the right to even confess or utter some of my own struggles of motherhood.<br />
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Lately I've run into fellow frazzled mothers that are trying so hard and wearing themselves out in their parenting years. It is all consuming. Nursing around the clock and feeling like a human pacifier, separating fights among siblings like a WWE referee, making nutritious meals like Rachael Ray, doing laundry at midnight so your child can wear their favorite shirt the next day, doing homework with your child that melts down at the very thought of a double digit addition problem, and putting the human boomerangs back to bed for the bazillionth time that night. "Just one last hug!" (Insert sigh here). I see common threads of reward and exhilaration for being a loving and diligent mother, and yet also exhaustion, overwhelming frustration, and downright discouragement too. We wouldn't trade our roles as mothers to our children for anything in the world. It is a priceless honor. And yet, we often feel guilty for even muttering the words, "This is hard." Parenting is hard. I will admit it. It's not that any one task is difficult, but the accumulation of daily tasks day after day that seem to pile up and often lead to a potential mental breakdown when we're not proactive about taking care of ourown needs. You know the old adage of putting on your own oxygen mask before you can help others to put their own mask oxygen on in order to not pass out. But who has time for that, right?? I know I am guilty of not putting mine on first. Too busy to care for my own needs when there is a baby crying and lunches to be made. Who's with me?!<br />
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The other night, I was parenting my 4 young kiddos without my husband who was in a night class, and all was going fairly well until a routine brotherly squabble was the straw that broke the camels back. And I was the camel. I hadn't realized that my own tension was mounting as high as it had been. It's hard to explain until you go through it. The littlest infraction that your child does seems to send you into a tailspin. Looking back, I can think with a level head that it wasn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but in the moment it's huge. Huuuge. In the heat of the moment, you feel the physiological effects of anger or frustration with your heart racing, your body temperature increasing and your patience leaving. Fast. Often times you mentally feel like you could snap or crumble. Your rational side has gone by the wayside. And I know for you, mom, in those moments it's huge for you too. It's easy for an outsider looking in and think that you're overreacting with your feelings of frustration. But just like a small dripping faucet, at first it doesn't bother you, but eventually the constant sound makes you feel like you're going insane. Bonkers. To the nut house! (Even when in reality, it's just a moment of frustration and not worthy of a medical diagnosis!) Parenting is hard. After my "breaking point" the other day, I had to walk outside (with baby still safely attached in my sling) to take a deep breath (or 2 or 12) cry out to the Lord for help and clarity of thought, and I walked back in to what seemed like the lions den...when in fact the children were repentant and eager to make things right. Thank. You. Jesus. (And the thoughtful husband even came home with flowers and a sweet and funny card after I texted him what a mentally tough night it had been.)<br />
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Sometimes we need that time to pause and step away from a tense parenting situation, and I'm here to say: You're not the only one. A lot of times as mothers (or fathers!) we think that everyone else has it all together. They have all their ducks in a row. Except you. That is a lie from Satan. No one has the corner on the market of perfect parenting. We are all doing our best and some just appear to be doing it better than others. Or maybe they just have a larger range of parental perspective to realize that this too shall pass. But I will tell you that you, dear friend, have a unique gift that the other mother across the street may not have. God made us all with different talents and abilities and ways to nurture our children. He gave us the children he gave us for a reason. You're the exact mother that they need. They don't need Susie homemaker to be their mother. They need you. Even if that means they get Happy Meals more often than you'd like to admit. And that's ok. They will survive! You have their best interest at heart. You, dear one, are chosen by God to be His adopted daughter, redeemed and loved for eternity. He sees you as you nurture your babies as they're sick throughout the night. He sees you as you're picking up toys under the couch once again with knees crackling, and He sees you as you kiss them on the head when they are finally resting peacefully. And He created you to be the loving mother that you are, by His grace and mercy. The Lord sings over you even in the moments where you feel like you are at your weakest. When you feel like you have nothing left to give, He is still there and He has not left you. Motherhood can be a lonely place when we don't make a point to find community and discover that listening ear when we are physically present with another person that gets it. God created us with the need for relationships with those who can lift one another up, and even when it means getting out of your comfort zones, we need to do it. We have to step out and be vulnerable because I've learned from experience that it's not a good place to stay in the mode of self-pity, even when it seems justified. It's vital for our mental health and well-being to have relationships with other mothers especially in this difficult season. After nurturing your relationship with the Lord, and a healthy marriage with your spouse, your oxygen mask may be a coffee break to share your heart with a neighbor, running a 5K with a motivated friend, or a splurging for a much needed pedicure with your bestie. You know what you need to refuel.<br />
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And it's OK to admit that parenting is hard. But God is there giving you strength along the way and the Lord sees YOU and all you're doing to raise your children to love God and keep his commandments. I encourage you today to reach out to a friend or neighbor just like you wish someone had done for you on your most difficult times. We all have those days and most likely a friend is having that moment right now where they might need you. Listen to the Holy Spirit as He often lays friends on our hearts for a reason. And after that connection, they will be more likely to be there for you when you need it too, as great friendships rooted in Christ blossom and grow. I believe that's a win-win situation.<br />
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Ecclesiastes 4:12<br />
A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.<br />
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-72514657065622123312014-11-27T00:16:00.000-08:002014-11-27T00:16:27.257-08:00Just Do ItForgive me Blog Followers, for it has been 5 months since my last confession aka blog post. In the hustle and bustle of life as a mother, it's amazingly difficult to carve out turkey, no, time for the things you personally enjoy. Let me use my most convenient example, with whom I should not get into too much trouble with, myself.<br />
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I really do enjoy writing. I was terrible at it as a young person, I do believe, but the longer I've been married to a particularly hilarious man (sorry Love, anyone that has met you knows it's true), the more I pick up on his humor, and the cadence and timing of what makes something ironically funny. I guess this may have translated into an interesting writing approach that may or may not resonate with you. Either way, it appears that God could have given me a little gift. Or my friends and family are playing along with this charade that they are actually reading what I am writing. "Sure, Rachel, that was...good! Keep it up. Onward ever. Do your thing, girlfriend." (Oh, no one calls me girlfriend, who am I kidding?) Wow, as Christian women we can't even call out our gifts and talents without shrieking back! I...can...write...well...ish? Dang it.<br />
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Anyway, my point being that there are often things we as busy moms enjoy and are quite talented in, that we let slip away, in the name of ... fill in the blank. For me in this hectic chapter of life with a young family, I have been allowing this lapse judgment to occur, however I do have some (though minimal, I must say) input into what I choose to do with my time.<br />
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Here are some excuses / reasons as of late, to not do what would bring me and possibly others a little joy: Adorable yet needy children at my ankles who are discovering a whole new octave in their screaming range, piles of paperwork that weekly loom over my head like a ferocious beast that I need to tame (whoa, boy), ever rotating dishes that need to be unloaded again, gargantuan heaps of laundry that require folding and distribution, and unintentional time zapped on Facebook (gasp, I know).<br />
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Well, there comes a time in a mother's life, I am painstakingly learning, that it's ok to whole heartedly pursue what God has given you a little bent towards. You think that time is somewhere way down the road, in the next stage of life, but is it? Have you arrived at the next mini-stage, a chapter 2, but you haven't even noticed it? The timeline of life is hard to mentally categorize for me. My daughter has been potty trained for 4 months... so I guess I can put away her changing table, right??? Yes, the answer is yes. <br />
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Whether it's five minutes here or there making a few funky Christmas ornaments that you used to love to make in college with your roommates, finding peace in baking a pie for pleasure again, and not just for Pinterest worthy cupcakes for pre-school, making your own Christmas cards to exchange with your 5 closest friends, stepping up to the mike to become a praise and worship singer at church, finally biting the bullet and signing up for a photography class, or giving out free and stylish haircuts to your friends, there's something you know you are good at that you have stuffed in the closet. I must say, some of you are rocking it, and inspiring me tremendously in this area. Playing piano again, teaching at a homeschool co-op, coaching soccer...You know who you are. ;) If not, have your people talk to my people.<br />
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It's my seemingly random challenge for you today, that God would reveal in your heart what that "something," is, big or small, and that you would make a commitment to carve out time for yourself, to bless the Lord through the gifts He's given you!<br />
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Have a blessed Thanksgiving, as we remember and give thanks for all that He has done for us! To God be the glory!<br />
<br />Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-76865724565683282652014-05-10T23:44:00.000-07:002014-05-11T06:14:49.360-07:00So many hats, and only one Mommy. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The longer I have held the honorable title of, "Mommy/ Mama/ Lady who feeds me," the deeper my understanding of the sacrifices that my own mother made for me and my siblings. It's pretty easy to play the armchair quarterback role regarding motherhood, before you are one yourself. You often think, "Well, you are doing a pretty good job, but you may have fumbled the ball here and there." And once you become a mother yourself, you may very well say, "Oh, NOW I see why she did that!" After this realization you may proceed to mutter to yourself, I mean Siri/ smartphone, "Please make a reminder for tomorrow at 3:30 pm to write Mom a long, long apology/ thank you/ How am I still alive?, letter. Thanks." And Siri replies, "Your wish is my command." </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">In our grand country, many young Americans have fairly ideal childhoods. (Of course there are exceptions, but we are celebrating the victories here today folks! ) These small and curious creatures are free to frolic and play with their besties, soak in as much knowledge as much as their spongelike brains can contain, and are more than well nourished for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And are probably served a healthy portion of whole wheat Goldfish crackers at snack time, or in the car, or when they are whining that they require their next meal or an eminent meltdown will begin. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Many times, a mother is behind the scenes, making things happen. We all know that moms are known to, "Wear many hats." As you are probably learning with each passing day, it is quite the understatement of the year. Or millennium. I'm pretty sure it goes way back. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The hats in a mother's closet can be large and floppy or small and dainty; breathtaking and elegant or sturdy and functional. And yet each has a vital role in the survival of the family unit. These hats are worn by the true love of a dear man, the matriarch of adorable and sometimes demanding children, an always professional banker or lawyer or doctor or thirty-one consultant, a referee (no ball required, but an authoritative voice vital), a personal chauffeur/ DJ, a short order cook, an at home unpaid tutor, a Pinterest worthy party hostess extraordinaire, a keeper of the home/ interior decorator, a budget guru, a mysterious laundry stain expert, an untrained nurse/ boo boo kisser, a source of hot milk, a baked goods in the shape of bunny heads maker, a bag lunch creator, and the list goes on. Did I mention the dish washing hat? I am not a fan of that head covering, but it makes its way to the top of my rotation daily, x 3.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Well, mommies of the blogosphere, you already know the amazing things you are doing. You may lose sleep wishing that you had the time and energy to do more, but you must remember that your closet is full of some pretty fabulous hats. As your spouse, children, and family remind you today of the graceful way you wear each hat, remember that you can accept these thanks, with your beautifully covered head held high. For you, my dear, are doing a pretty darn good job. Accept the praise and gratitude. Forget the things that you wish you could have done better. This is the day the Lord has made, and it has been chosen to celebrate YOU and all you do for the ones you love. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And don't forget to thank your own mother, if you can. Or say a prayer thanking God for the time you had to learn from her. Because now you have more than a glimpse of all the love she poured out for you. Often without thanks, or a second thought. It was and is more than going through the motions to complete the chores and the tasks of the day. It is a daily portrayal of unconditional love, just as the Father has for us. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Happy Mother's Day, to the past, present and future mothers of the world. You are loved by your family, and most importantly, by our amazing Maker and Lord. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I get it. ;) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Proverbs 31:28-31</span></span><br />
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<span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/proverbs/31-28.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">28</span></span></b></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Her children arise and call her blessed;</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">her husband also, and he praises her:</span></span></div>
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<span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/proverbs/31-29.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">29</span></span></b></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">“Many women do noble things,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">but you surpass them all.”</span></span></div>
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<span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/proverbs/31-30.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">30</span></span></b></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">but a woman who fears the </span></span><span class="name" style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Lord</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> is to be praised.</span></span></div>
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<span class="reftext" style="color: #001320; line-height: 14px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 2px; vertical-align: text-top;"><a href="http://biblehub.com/proverbs/31-31.htm" style="color: #0092f2; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">31</span></span></b></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Honor her for all that her hands have done,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.</span></span></div>
</span></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-75266261158488942882014-03-05T22:11:00.000-08:002014-03-05T22:11:11.137-08:00Mama Said There'll Be Days Like This<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You know when you just have one of "those days"? I feel like I say that almost daily, but then when you actually do have one of "those days," you realize that the other ones really weren't that bad. </span></span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Well, as you can probably guess, today was one of "those days." My day actually started, impressively well. By boys were at school on time, and I was feeling quite proud. I attended a ladies' Bible study on the military base where I live, and it was a fabulous time of singing, food, and fellowship. I even told a fellow Bible study friend, "That was such a great lesson today!" I guess those were my famous last words, or the beginning of the end for my practically perfect in every way, day. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I am always procrastinating on my kids' doctors appointments. I honestly had not remembered that my son had his 4 year old check-up due, until last week when his teacher asked if that is why he missed a day of school. (No, it was because I was so late to get him to school, that I just sent him along with his sister to the childcare for my Bible study!) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Today, after pre-school, I thought, "Today will be a great day to go get that dreaded round of shots done." As I pulled up to the hospital, my little one asked me if he was going to see the doctor today. My daughter, 2, insisted we were there for her, since she apparently likes the doctor's office. I am a terrible liar, so I had to fess up, that we were going for my son. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It was quite freezing out today, so of course my son didn't want to wear his coat. I lost that battle. I felt like a superwoman swinging my heavy double stroller out of the car and clicking it into place. After wrangling the two kiddos into the stroller, and getting them settled, I ran (literally) up to the winding path leading to the hospital. I nearly knocked over soldiers in training with their BC goggles and crutches, but I think they could see I was a mom on a mission. I spotted a few more targets trying to figure out what elevator to take. I am usually quite helpful in these scenarios, however, I knew I had to scurry past them, in order to get my bulky stroller onto the elevator first. The gaggle of barely wounded almost soldiers, joined me. We chatted about being in the field in the freezing cold. It did not sound like fun. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Exiting to the 6th floor, I was proud to have a keen sense of direction, that this way was the immunization clinic. (I have a poor sense of direction, and sometimes I am totally backwards in where I think something should be.) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As I approached the place where I would normally check in, I was halted by a sign saying, "Immunization/Allergy Clinic closed for lunch, 1200-1300." Of course it is! If I would have stopped to think about this, I probably would have known this simple, but vital fact. Seeing that I still had 40 minutes to wait until it was open, I decided to just retreat back to the car for a plan bravo. The kids were already getting squirmy. And hungry.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Being the irrationally brave woman that I am, I pulled up to the commissary, knowing that I at least needed to buy some apples to have a healthy snack at the ready for later in the afternoon. "No, fruit snacks do not count as having eaten real fruit!" I often instruct them as they beg for food. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Upon hoisting up my little ones into the car shaped grocery cart, the battle had already begun, as they insisted to not wear their little safety straps. And then trying to maneuver those beasts, is like trying to drive a semi-truck in a corn maze. It was quite embarrassing as the tires screeched around every corner, and my arms burned as I pushed hard on one side of the cart. Sure, I could have been going slow enough where this wouldn't be such a big deal, but when you have a ticking time bomb of good behavior, you try to beat the buzzer, frantically zipping through the aisles before total meltdown begins. And, it was eminent, I could feel it. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Kids in carts, of course, try to toss into the buggy any child marketed item they spy with their little eyes. Whether it's a Fruity Tooty cereal with Toots McGee the clown (fear not, for he is only a fictional character) or Zippy's Rainbow Flavored Lollipops, dipped in candy clouds, kids zone in on these products. Right at their level, they spotted those, oh so tempting juice boxes with the character heads on them. Proudly, I had not bought one of these in about 4 years. So, it was time for a splurge, why not? At $2 a pop, and 3 kids, that's $6 on three drinks! Way too much. Yes, at the time, it was worth them being distracted, even for a moment.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I see that you have noticed that I had only two kids with me. Well, funny you should mention it. I initially had only two uniquely headed juices, but upon introspection, I turned that fat cart around. It wasn't worth my oldest son to 1) Feel left out of the special juice box character head that only happens every 4 years treat, and 2) I knew it wouldn't be worth hearing the moans later when he would be lamenting the fact that he did not get one too.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Don't worry, I don't always make life fair. Just come to my house at any gift giving holiday, and you will see that they have a few random thrift store treasures that could not be equalized, so just one of them gets it. Ie, a huge stuffed, soft and cuddly lion for Valentines Day was all Hank the Tank.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Where was I? Oh yes, juice boxes. Eventually, while roaming through the isles, my time of sanity was fading away like the sands of time in an hour glass. And these are the days of our lives.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I had to cut short the produce section meandering. Of course, that's the area where I was actually supposed to shop. After snatching a couple bags of apples, I headed towards the check out. At commissaries around this grand nation, you wind in and out of a maze filled with temptations like cookies, holiday candy, and all the empty calories that your little heart could desire. And your mid- section wants to scream and run away from the candy rooted in pure evil. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Like cattle headed towards the slaughter, I made my way to the front of the line. In my huge buggy and squeaky wheel, I looked as ridiculous as I felt, I have no doubt. Not a kind glance received, at this point, sorry to say! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The check out lady was not too thrilled to see us arrive either. I quickly shoved the rubber ducky and mesh bag filled with baby sized shampoo and lotion, where my kids had nearly destroyed the tag, off to the side. This was only a distraction item. If it can still scan, it's good to go, right?! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I handed over my 3 measly coupons, and paid $150 for 2 bags of apples... and a few items that I never knew I always wanted. Then, we headed to the car. I soon realized I had only a quarter to tip the bagger. Sorry bagger number 6! I will always remember you, and find you and pay you one day. One day, when I don't have two precious distractions with me. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Fast forward to later in the afternoon, when I went to pick up my son and his friend from school. My 4 year old was freed from the bonds of his carseat, and instructed to stay by me as I got his sister out. He zipped across the cul de sac street and back, and thankfully the driver of an incoming mini van noticed his shenanigans enough to slow down for him to cross back safely.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was now even more determined to have both kiddos in my double stroller, with the little one's crazy behaviors. He was having none of it. Kicking and screaming all the way, with biting attempts and everything, (him not me), I had to steer my stroller with one hand and hold my son like a football in the other arm, as his legs were pedaling in the air like he was racing in the Tour de France. And screaming. Did I mention the screaming? It wasn't a pretty sight, I tell you. I'm sure the moms who witnessed this mobile tantrum would agree. Hello to you, passersby mommies. Yes, that was embarrassing!!! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I would go on, but I think you get the picture. Being on a military instillation, my neighbor and friend rescued me from my brink of insanity moment, since she heard from her son that the car ride back home was quite an ear ringing experience for all. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Thank you friend! I could then do my dishes in peace. :) I may or may not have watched the Bachelor on my computer while doing this. It's like junk food. It feels good going down, then you totally regret it in a few minutes when you feel sick! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So, that, dear blog reader, and hopefully fellow empathizer, was my story of having one of "those days." I am sure, if you have children and a heartbeat, you can relate. My saying lately is, "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." Parenting highs are sky high, and the lows, are so low that you sometimes can't even pick yourself off the ground. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I share this to say, you are not alone. We all have our own epic battles we have to fight from time to time, even if many of us are good at putting our game face on with some lipstick, mascara and a forced smile. It's ok to let our guards down, and to be honest with each other.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This doesn't mean that we should sit around and complain that parenting is the pits. But it's nice to share honestly what you are struggling with, whether it's the frustrating 45 minute baby nap, the bed wetting dilemma, or the ever texting teenager. Sure there are the times where you want to just scream and run away, but it's sandwiched in between some pretty precious moments that you will never forget.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My goal, is to really relish in the moments when I can totally savor my kids, and their little quirks, belly laughs, and funny habits. To breathe them in, and love on them, without the distractions of cell phones, and schedules</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Sure, the time when you want to pull your hair out, seems like it's just around the corner, but we have access to the One who is so much greater than any of our daily stresses. And, there is light at the end of the tunnel, even if it means that we need to just get away for some "me" time! Or maybe it's getting into His Word, for those ten minutes before everyone is awake. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">With the strength of the Lord, caring friends, helpful family, and lots of coffee, we can get through this. Your village is there, sometimes you just have to ask for someone to join you in your Crazytown village! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Proverbs 31:10 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Psalm 30:8-10</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-30-8" id="en-NIV-14328" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>To you, <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, I called;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-8" style="position: relative;">to the Lord I cried for mercy:</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-30-9" id="en-NIV-14329" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>“What is gained if I am silenced,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-9" style="position: relative;">if I go down to the pit?<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14329R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-30-9" style="position: relative;">Will the dust praise you?</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-9" style="position: relative;">Will it proclaim your faithfulness?<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14329S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-30-10" id="en-NIV-14330" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>Hear,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14330T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup> <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, and be merciful to me;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14330U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-10" style="position: relative;"><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, be my help.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14330V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup>”</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-30-11" id="en-NIV-14331" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">11 </sup>You turned my wailing<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14331W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup> into dancing;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14331X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-11" style="position: relative;">you removed my sackcloth<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14331Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup> and clothed me with joy,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14331Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-30-12" id="en-NIV-14332" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">12 </sup>that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-30-12" style="position: relative;"><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> my God, I will praise<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14332AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup> you forever.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14332AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)"></sup></span></span></span></div>
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-85335235564273196742014-01-19T19:55:00.000-08:002014-01-19T19:55:55.902-08:00Rose Colored Glasses <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Welcome to "Military Monday!" Credits go to my friend Stephanie, a fellow military wife for this scathingly brilliant idea... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I'd like to think that my identity goes beyond my military family lifestyle. But, who am I fooling? It's pretty much a game changer, in how I view the world and the circumstances in it. If, "Holding down the homefront," is on your list of skills on your resume', then you can probably relate to this blog post. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">During the refinement process of becoming a seasoned Marine wife, I have unknowingly had a paradigm shift in how I look at life as a whole. A paradigm shift, as you may know, is an often gradual transformation in the way you think, or view the world in which you live. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Before becoming a military wife, I saw life through my pre-military wife lenses. (Naturally.)Now that I have been, "Married to the military," for nearly 10 years, I have slowly but surely changed the way in which I look at life. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here are just a handful, or ten, of the things that I now think differently about, that you just might relate to:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">1. You no longer watch a football game mindlessly, watching teams that you have never thought much about. You often see who's playing and immediately think of the Super Fan Family, from 3 duty stations ago, that we were privileged to cross paths with. Nebraska fans, check. Green Bay Packers fans, check. Saints fans, check, check. You pretty much know a family, fairly well even, that will be watching that game. Therefore, you kind of have an idea how their day may be going, according to the score board.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The amazing thing is, you are pretty sure that if you had an emergency, and needed help, your crazy football watching military friends would fly cross country to be with you in your time of need. Even if you hadn't seen each other in years. And you would do the same for them in a heartbeat. If you have childcare. ;)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2. If you happen to be in a situation in which you need to write a check to a church, to a school, to an anything "local," your brain freezes for a minute. You have to stop and think, a) What city do I now live in? b) What is the name of this establishment again, that I attend every Sunday? Grace? Nope. LCC? Nope. ABC? Nope. Oh yes... it's: fill in the blank. Pause, pause, pause. And then you're back in real time. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3. Zip codes. Same dilemma. When trying to pay a bill over the phone, a kind lady will ask you, "Ok, ma'm, I have your address, except the zip code. Zip code please?" Crickets, crickets, crickets (while racking your foggy, and possibly jet-lagged brain.) Then you squeal in delight, as if you were the next contestant on, The Price is Right. You then proudly spout off your new and improved zip code, perfectly. You happen to have a lot of "saved" zip code drawers in your brain. This one just happened to be a new drawer that was still a little sticky and needed to be broken in. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">4. If you ever wished that you could go back in time, where, "Everybody knows your name. And they're always glad you came," get married to a member of the U.S. military. And then move onto military base housing. You probably know all the names of the kids on your block, as well as their allergies, and their favorite color of popsicle. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Every few months you have bittersweet emotions, hearing the roaring sound of an 18- wheeler, blocking your car from exiting your driveway. You know that sound means an "old" neighbor (whom you have known for a whopping 5 months) is saying adios, and yet another nomadic family is putting their curtains up again, who will eventually become your closest friends. You just don't know that part yet. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">5. When you meet another military spouse, you can just look at her, and "get it." You don't know her story, or how many deployments she's endured and conquered, but you can make eye contact, and see a window to her soul of the joys, the hardships, and the friendships that she has experienced. Once you meet that lady and connect on a deeper level, especially a sister in Christ, you never, ever forget her face and her unbreakable spirit. You may have only been in the same duty station for a few months together, but that bond cannot be broken. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">6. Speaking of friendships, whenever you go to a "coffee" and meet ladies whose husbands just checked in, you will often ask them, 1) Where they are coming from, 2) Who your mutual friends are. And, 9 times out of 10, (no, I can't back that up), you have mutual friends. And bam, an instant connection has been established. And then you hurriedly "add" your new friend, and confirm that you indeed have a "mutual friend," on Facebook. What else would you do?! ;) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">7. Whenever you are in a less than ideal situation, you rarely, as a military wife, let yourself have an all out pity party. Sure, you get more than a few tears, and get pretty dang frustrated at the hardships of being a military spouse. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">However, there is one thing that usually holds you back from that all out tantrum on the floor. And that is... your fellow military wife friend. Sounds crazy, but those who are in the boat know it's true! You often think, "What in the world? I can't believe my love is gone for our anniversary again! This is beyond depressing. I am so ready for him to be done with this military lifestyle!!!" Then, you stop, and you think that it's bad, but it could be worse. You have something to be thankful for, that your friend down the road may not have right now. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So, he's gone for your anniversary. But he's just TDY a few states away, and he'll be back next month. Your friend just had her second baby with her husband deployed half way around the world, while working a full time job. And one of her kids has special needs. You say to yourself, "Yeah, maybe I can just suck it up a little, because if she can do that, I can surely do this." You say this not in spite of her strength, but because her strength has inspired you to dig deeper than you ever knew was possible. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">8. When your first child was born, your family was most likely a "military family" for a few years already. And so, naturally, your kids have never known anything outside of the military lifestyle. You know that kids have the capability of being resilient. But,one would think that most parents would not want to put their kids in heartachingly difficult situations. (Not to say that civilian families don't go through such trials, for they surely do!) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You have observed that military kids have the bravery of fearless lions, and the tenderness of a newborn lamb. You hate the phrase, "military brat." It conjures up in your mind, a picture of a kid with a smirk on his face, who is spoiled and gets whatever he asks for. And, as military parents, you know that it's the farthest thing from the truth. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Just yesterday I witnessed the sweetest and saddest moment between military kids on our block. Four sweet boys on my porch, all around age 7, were playing Legos and laughing together. Not a Lego game on a tablet, but tangible Legos. They shared Goldfish and water, as they played and pretended to be heroes in Legoland. The dad of one of the boys drove up to our house and motioned for his son to come along. Another mom and I encouraged the boys to say good-bye. This wasn't just a, "Good-bye, I'll see ya tomorrow." This was the long good-bye. Their keys have been handed in to housing, and they are hitting the road for their next duty station. I waited to see what reaction these boys would have. They didn't scream and cry that their friend was leaving or say how unfair life is. (Or at least not today.) They looked at each other, and each boy hugged the one who had to go, and they said good-bye, and, "Thanks for playing with me." Not a tear was shed, but they knew what it meant to say their farewells, for they have done it before, and they will do it again. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I was astounded to see the strength and composure from 7 year old kids, who had genuine love and respect for each other. Maybe they would cross paths again, but maybe they wouldn't. But that was ok for them, because they have been raised from day #1 to be the brave, yet tender warriors that they are being transformed into daily, as military "brats." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Even for an adult, it is difficult to really wrap your brain around the permanence of some moves. When it comes to your own children, i</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">t breaks you heart to know that they have to go through these painful yet stoic good-byes, just as you have done. But you also know that your child gains strength and an appreciation for old friends, with each family they encounter in our ever changing lives.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">9. Military friends, are the family that not only you choose, but the family that God chooses for you. It's easy to think that your life is so half hazard and that the military is just tossing you around here and there, without a thought or a care. You know that there is a plan, but it often doesn't seem like it in the present. Not until you look back at the road that you have taken, do you see the beauty amidst the ashes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">There are assignments where you flourish with a great community, scenic views, and help with childcare. Then, you go to other locations where you are isolated, you never even get outside the house enough to explore, and you feel like you are raising your kids alone. During the first part of the journey it is easy to see God's design for your family. Not until you step away from the challenging times, do you see why God led you through the desert wasteland during the next phase of life as a military spouse. You learned in the valley the importance of getting involved in a group of like minded women in order to grow and even survive. You learned that you have to step outside of your comfort zone to explore the opportunities in your area, even if you are only there a few months. And, through the times of feeling abandoned with kids to raise, you cherish the friends that step up, and become the family that you need, when you can't take another moment with a tiny tot screaming your name. God has a plan, through each leg of the journey, and He will get you through each path, even though it's not always lovely! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">10. Every time you leave a duty station after having lived there for some time, you leave a little part of your heart there. Again, sounds silly to say, but true. You can think back to one city, and hear the laughter of the locals, and how they loved catching as many beaded necklaces as they could at the much anticipated Mardi Gras parade. Or, the apartment where you felt your baby kick for the first time, and there was nothing more magical that you had ever experienced. Part of your life was lived there, babies brought into the world, friendships were formed, and every day messes were cleaned up from the floor. And that lat-long always sticks with you. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">That's my random list of paradigm shifting phenomenons, that allows me to see through my own rose colored military wife glasses. I'm sure you could add ten more that I have never thought of, but can relate to as well. That's the unique thing about military life. No one story of life is the same, but we all have a common thread that is unbreakable!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Share the way you think differently as a military wife in the comments, and I'm sure that one, or many of us, can relate. Love you sisters and I thank God for you DAILY!!! </span></div>
Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-24238398569806230682014-01-04T21:08:00.000-08:002014-01-04T21:08:42.982-08:00Love Bank<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ok, ladies, I'm going to keep this short and sweet. Well, I will try. I am known to be a little (or a lot) long winded while blogging! A lot of stifled communication over the last 34 years, I suppose! ;)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This is a blog post, that you can <hopefully> share with your husband, if you so happen to jive with any or all of my suggestions. And my husband has approved this message so this is not a passive aggressive way to give him a message. (However, that may be a good idea...nah). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">HUSBANDS: START HERE :) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Glad you could join us this fine day. I see that your wife has handed over her phone to you, amidst the chaos of life. If you happen to be driving during this blind handoff, please pull over immediately. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Thank you. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Now that we are all safe and accounted for, I just wanted to share with you what your wife may be thinking, but she has never really verbalized to you. Because we expect you to just know things without being informed. I know, women, right? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">5 things you wish you would have known, yesterday: </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">1. As moms, we often have little to show, at least physically, for the blood, sweat, and tears shed during our days, especially if we stay at home with our kids. When you come home from work, and after you take a few minutes to decompress, please find at least one thing, and genuinely praise her for accomplishing that task. It may be that your wife gave your son an at home bowl cut, and she managed to not chop the tops of your son's ears off in the process. No, you weren't there, but it wasn't a pretty sight, or sound. And bribery may or may not have been involved in getting said child to sit still. So, what do you say? Something to the effects of, "I'm sure it was a tough job, but I really appreciate that you saved us $12. I am so thankful for you!" Ha ha ha! Oh wait, I'm serious. If it's not genuine, it doesn't count. :) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2. Surprises are always nice. I know, I know, that costs $$. Well, not always... or not always a lot! Just walking in the door with your wife's favorite magazine, that she feels too guilty to buy for herself at the grocery store, would totally make her day. Or pick a wild flower in the grass and give it to her with a short love note! Ie, "You are pretty. I love you."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3. Be thoughtful. As a mother of a newborn, I had one need and one need only. Water. And more water. Well, some food thrown in my direction every now and again, but my thirst could not be quenched. Yes, I could have gotten a glass of water for myself, with a baby on my hip, but it spoke volumes when water was offered to me. What does the Bible say about giving a cup of cold water?? See, it's true. (Matthew 10:42) Most moms have their "thing" they need, you just have to listen to know what that is. And follow through. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">4. Sometimes we need a little shove out the door. Let me explain. Household duties, childrearing, and the like, are a constant need and a "job" that is never truly completed. Even though we desperately would like to get out of the house, to gain our own sanity, and have even a few minutes of child-free time to ourselves, we often will not ask for it. When it gets to a breaking point, we will, but let's try to get some relief before it gets that bad! A stir crazy wife, is not a happy wife. An unhappy wife, makes an unhappy husband. This is a no brainer, right?! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">5. You most likely help with the bath time routine, and much more, but your wife probably has one ongoing duty that she can't stand. It may be folding laundry, dusting, changing diapers, or pick your poison. She most likely does this chore with minimal complaining. On a good day, of course. But, it would serve you well, to do that one thing, without being asked every so often. She would be floored, and ... you can thank me later. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I would go on, but I'm pretty sure you are done reading right about... NOW. That is all. Go and do likewise! Deposits into the love bank are always a wise investment. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">P.S.- You are doing a good job. We, as the body of Christ, can always make strong marriages even stronger. </span><br />
<br />Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-91699528832384266692013-12-29T20:51:00.000-08:002013-12-29T20:51:19.549-08:00What's left to ponder?! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Throughout the year, I have intermittent thoughts concerning Christmas and how it will be here... eventually. And so, that's about 12 months of pondering opportunities. On the other hand, there is the seemingly sneaky New Year's Day, that is just around the corner. I usually embark this journey of self examination and deep introspection beginning around... December 26th. And so, as you can probably calculate if you have your iCalendar handy, that doesn't give me very many days to think about my New Year's Resolutions, now, does it? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's that time of year, once again, and I find myself in quite the same predicament. I have been known to wait until an hour before the ball drop to begin throwing out crazy ideas that I shall cling to for about the next 3 weeks, when I realize that this idea was really for the birds... Or rather, good in theory, but not yet in practice. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Does anyone want to guess how many times I have started and quit my, "Reading the Bible in One Year, plan?" Maybe this will be THEE year. In the past, I have psyched myself up, that I am going to be disciplined and make this happen in a year. I am usually smooth sailing in my reading plan for Genesis, then Exodus, and start getting a little behind with Leviticus, and then snowballing to Numbers. By the time I reach Deuteronomy, I am a few weeks behind my timeline, and not very eager to pick back up where I left off. Then, I hang my head in shame, and I throw in the towel, feeling defeated. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In this day in age, I really have no excuse. As you know, there is now the audible version of the Bible on most intelligent electronic devices, and so I may go that route with success. Victory will be mine! In the Lord, of course. ;) I will report to you, in approximately 365 days how the grand plan is coming along... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As you may have noticed, I am a couple days ahead this year, of my usual track record. Thank you, thank you. And so, I thought I would share with you a few little golden battered resolution nuggets (gluten free) that I have discovered this evening. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ms. Mommy Poppins' High and Lofty New Year's Resolutions for 2014 are as follows: </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">1.) Work out like a mad woman. Crossfit, Pilates, Post Baby Boot Camp for your Post Baby Body, Yoga, Hot Yoga, Karaoke Spinning, and don't' forget the handy Shake Weight. It's the perfect exercise tool to use while waiting for the light to turn green while driving your car. And run. A lot. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2.) Stop inadvertently poisoning your children with food that is not beneficial to them. Strike out all fast food joints. Be sure to avoid the dyes <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Blue 1 and 2, Citrus Red 2, Green 3, Red 40, Yellow 5 and 6.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> And eat only organic. ONLY OR-GAN-IC. (Head nod). </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3.) Make Pinterest your new best friend. Incorporate a creative, yet healthy, and also desirable after school snack, and/or super cool craft that your children will love. Tattoo DIY onto your forearm, so you will remember that you too, can, "Do It Yourself," whether that is learning how to play the ukelele, go yarn bombing, or how to make your own wedding veil. In case you and your hubby decide to renew your wedding vows. In like 20 years. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">4.) Awaken the child prodigy that you know must be sleeping in their bunk beds. Violin, Mandarin, and Calculus should soon become part of your child's vocabulary. As well as computer programming. AKA programming. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">5.) Time management. You should have read this five minutes ago, and there is room for improvement. Tardiness is unacceptable in all scenarios. And procrastination is so last year. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">6.) Read the Bible in a Year. Because that is on my list, every year. See above. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">7.) Organize: Learn to organize. And demonstrate newly acquired organizational skills. Junk drawers, bedroom closets, laundry room, craft bins, and even your make up bag with the cheek stain streaks in it. There is a lot of work to be done, and be done it shall. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">8.) Financial Freedom. Get your ... stuff... together. Credit card debt, mortgage, college savings, rainy day fund, sunny day fund, smoggy day fund. Shoot for the stars. Remember this old scenario? If someone you love asked you to help them to earn a million dollars so that they could get a new kidney and live, you could certainly earn that money by getting a little creative. You would somehow and someway make a million dollars. Or, at least you would have in 1989. And so, my friend, use that sort of drive. Just think, "Kidney money." And say that over and over, and financial freedom will be within your grasp. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">9.) Two words: Date night. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">10.) Play more with your kids, and never say, "No," to a playing request. Get ready for Chutes and Ladders, Banana Grams, Ants in Your Pants, puzzles, more puzzles, and tea parties. Put your jersey on, because you must be the game master for your kids to truly love you. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Ahh!!! It's a little stressful just to write these resolutions, let alone to follow through with them. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Every one of these has morsels of truth that I would like to incorporate into 2014, but obviously not to the extreme listed above. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Here's a more "doable" New Year's Resolution list for me:</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">1.) I will take up running again, and figure out how to fit it into my schedule with three kids. I'll run a 5K race once every other month. If I'm feeling brave, I'll train for a half marathon. Oh yes, baby steps. Maybe I'll just stick with a 5K... for now! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">2.) I will feed my kids more healthily, and encourage them to make better choices, by putting good choices in front of them. I know it won't always be organic, but my motto always has been, "Everything in moderation!" And so that means, we can still have ice cream! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">3.) I will take up a few new hobbies or crafts this year, such as sewing. I don't know why I am so intimidated by a sewing machine, and I love most crafting things. So, I must conquer my fear of threading a bobbin! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">4.) I will strive to plug my kids into something they love. Even if it's just learning to play Kenny G. songs on the recorder. My number two child is obsessed with puzzles right now, so that is my version of a child prodigy, and I love it! And him. :) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">5.) I will manage my time better in order to be on time to places and events. Three kids is a good excuse to be late, but it's not an excuse every time! I will learn to incorporate such tricks of the trade like setting clothes out the night before. Duh. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">6.) I will pursue a deeper relationship with the Lord through more consistent devotions, audio Bible readings, and application of the Bible studies I participate in throughout the year. I may not read all 66 books of the Bible in a year, but I know I can read past Deuteronomy! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">7.) I will be motivated to get organized in my household and schedule, and will ask for help when necessary. Be warned: I may have your number on speed dial, super organized friends!You know who you are. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">8.) I'll continue to pursue job leads for getting back to work as a professional outside the home. A few hours a week can be good for my sanity and our check book, without a doubt. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">9.) Two words: Date Night. Seriously, it's so easy to allow the hurdles you have to get through to make a date night actually occur, when you have young kids in the home. Reserving the babysitter, the funds for the aforementioned baby-sitter, all the stars aligning... it can get quite complicated. We have been bad about this one lately after PCSing away from our reliable sitters! But, we can do better. Even if we just go get a Starbucks coffee while a neighbor watches the kids for an hour, that counts! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">10.) I will make a conscious effort to have a play session, one on one, with each child, even if it's just for a few minutes, each day. Whether it's checking out a fort that my boys found, or having a tea party, stopping to play at their level is important, and often the day gets away from me, and I have been hopelessly cleaning all day. It should result in more laughing, and less crying! From me, I mean, my kids. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">Join me in making your "doable" New Year's Resolutions, and maybe, just maybe, we can read past Deuteronomy together, this year! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-6663556938990798532013-12-20T22:41:00.000-08:002013-12-20T22:41:25.594-08:00Great (Christmas) Expectations <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's the most wonderful time…of the year. The day after Thanksgiving, I am always alarmingly surprised when I hear the starting pistol go off at 7am. Ok, maybe it's only in my head, but I definitely hear it. And it is then accompanied by the rushing around song from Home Alone, when Kevin's parents frantically sit up in bed after realizing that they had overslept. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Instead of visions of sugar plums dancing 'round my head, I have visions of to-do lists hanging o'er my head. Before you falsely accuse me of being quite the Scrooge McDuck, and ignoring the struggles of Tiny Tim, I do cherish this season.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Our family unit has some of the usual traditions such as driving around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights while sipping hot cocoa. Our mischievous elf, Bing (White Christmas anyone?), delights us each morning with naughty tricks like making ginormous piles of pillows and blankets at the bottom of the stairs for the kids to jump onto. If only that tiny, tricky elf was more helpful in the clean up process. A more unusual family tradition is attending a hotdog and bottled Coca Cola Christmas Eve supper, adopted from my brother-in-law's side of the family. What was once unusual, has become a tradition that we do not want to miss! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">During this season of cheer, it's so easy for me to feel defeated, discouraged, and pretty much like a failure. I guess it's a pretty bad sign when I have yet to actually put pen to paper to transfer my mental to-do list, onto a tangible piece of paper. Or onto a tablet. Or onto a napkin with a crayon, while eating at a restaurant with kids who would honestly rather play a game on my smart phone than be entertained with crayons. Sad, I know. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I get quite a few things accomplished, but it's so easy to focus on what I did NOT accomplish, as Christmas day is quickly approaching. I told myself in July, to start working on a Christmas craft, for I discovered last year, that if you wait until December 1st to attempt a Christmas craft, it's pretty much too late. Or at least for me, because it takes a while for me to determine what I should make, then to go to Hobby Lobby, then to navigate the store, while a toddler is trying to knock off ribbons from shelves. And then I forget some key supplies, since I was a wee bit distracted by a screeching sound in my ear, while carrying a child on my hip since my sweet, but sassy treasures are not keen on siting properly in the front of a cart. And fellow shopping patrons do not seem to enjoy the scene that plays out when I whip out the mommy card, and enforce such rules. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As December the 25th approaches, I often begin to feel like a pretty crummy mom. Here are some mental samples:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"Wow. The other moms from the preschool had time to make adorable little angel ornaments, made with real bits of angel hair for their kids to hand out to their classmates. I barely know how many kids are in my child's class, let alone knowing all their classmates names, ages, birth weight, and allergies. Ugh. I better run to the dollar store pronto, for I surely don't want to be 'that mom,' again." </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"How does the credit card bill get so racked up this time of the year? And it doesn't even look like we really have that much to show for it, either. I really hope our kids don't feel like they are not as loved, since they will be getting a whole lot less than their buddies. Maybe we should just keep buying to catch up?!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"Our snowman cookie jar has had a hungry belly this year, with not a treat in sight. And our imaginary gingerbread men are homeless, living under the overpass outside, since they are still waiting on their gingerbread house to be made. And, to think, I just threw away our Halloween candy. The rock candy would have made a good kitchen backsplash. Dang it!" </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"Christmas cards. It would be so nice to have a precious family picture with our cheeks all aglow, that my closest friends and family could touch with their own two hands. But it takes an act of Congress to have all five of us dressed halfway decently, for this Christmas miracle to occur. And why do I always realize, five minutes after we change out of our church clothes, that I just missed the window of capturing our almost put- togetherness? But no one is around, and I can't seem to get the self timer to work. And, oh yes, the camera battery seems to be dead again. And the memory stick is full. And, I can't dump the old pics. Some error keeps popping up that is above my pay grade to figure out. I give up." </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The feelings of utter failure during the Christmas season go on, and on but I will spare you any more ugly details. (And no, I was not even invited to an ugly Christmas sweater party! Having enough friends to rate attending an ugly Christmas sweater party, FAIL. Sob, sob, sob… Well, not really, but almost.)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I think our expectations about the holidays get sky rocketed higher and higher every year. And I aim for the stars, and get disappointed when I land around the upper 3/4th of our Christmas tree, where the lights have mysteriously gone out. No joke. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I have been pondering why I get so wrapped up with keeping these high expectations. I really don't "care" about keeping up with the seemingly perfect families. But, in my own efforts to blend in, I often lose sight of my own identity, in what MY Christmas season should look like. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">God created us all, with different talents and abilities. I will never be as good as my sister is, at decorating a home for Christmas. I must admit, that she can humbly make her home Southern Living magazine worthy. And after all of these years, thinking I am pretty useless, I have realized something. It's ok! She has a gift, that I simply do not. I take joy that she shares the final product of her amazing vision and skills to make things so beautiful, with so many of us. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Maybe I didn't bake 3 dozen cookies for the Christmas bake sale, with the ingredients neatly labeled in festive red and green ink. But, I did read a library-on-wheels amount of Christmas books to my kids each night! That counts for something, right?! And baby Jesus made quite a few star appearances, trumping the Santa books, of course. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ok, so that's a whole lot of words spewed out, and what's the point again? (I ask myself…) Give yourself a break, already! You are pretty freggin' awesome. Can I say, freggin'? Your kids will (or should) be happy to have you there to celebrate with them on Christmas morning, no matter how many presents are under the tree. I know from experience, that even if you do buy out the Toys R Us, they very well, may ask, "Is that it?" So, why even worry about having "enough"?! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Memories are being made, even if you are not realizing it or planning it. A detour to look at the lights around the neighborhood, counts in the Christmas spirit jar, even if you didn't have to pay $15 per car to drive through. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">No, this isn't really that deep. But it is something a lot of us struggle with, this time of the year. I encourage you, fellow mommy with tattered twist band in your hair, to just take a deep breath. You are doing fine. Christmas is not ruined. Just enjoy these moments, for they are only young once! I am learning this, day by day! And so, I shall sing, Mariah Carey songs, amongst the dirty dishes, and know that God created me exactly who He wanted me to be. And my kids will be just fine on Christmas morning, sitting under a tree with broken lights. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Psalm 16:8-11</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">English Standard Version (ESV)</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">8 </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I have set the Lord always before me;<br />
<span style="font: 7.0px Courier;"> </span>because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">9 </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being<span style="font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>[</b></span><span style="color: #661300; font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>a</b></span><span style="font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>]</b></span> rejoices;<br />
<span style="font: 7.0px Courier;"> </span>my flesh also dwells secure.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">10 </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,<br />
<span style="font: 7.0px Courier;"> </span>or let your holy one see corruption.<span style="font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>[</b></span><span style="color: #661300; font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>b</b></span><span style="font: 10.0px Verdana;"><b>]</b></span></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">11 </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You make known to me the path of life;<br />
<span style="font: 7.0px Courier;"> </span>in your presence there is fullness of joy;<br />
<span style="font: 7.0px Courier;"> </span>at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.</span></div>
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-40869476357416991652013-11-13T00:14:00.001-08:002013-11-13T00:14:26.693-08:00God's Got This<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Have you noticed lately how most major search engine websites will highlight what is "trending" that day? It often seems so random and off the wall. Ok, right now the topic that's trending is... SeaWorld killer whale. What??!! And tomorrow Winona Ryder will be trending, because that seems about right. </span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Whenever I come up for air, in between birthing babies, I attempt to be "on trend" in fashion. Of course, I always have my own spin on what's the latest, but it's fun to at least pretend like you don't have five pairs of mom jeans in your closet. However, I can tell you now that I will never own a pair of over-the-thigh boots. A little too <i>Pretty Woman</i> for my taste. I'll leave those boots up to Beyonce to pull off, as a sexy mama. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Well, lately it is hard not to notice a certain trend with many of my friends, who have been in my boat. These friends seem to be jumping ship, and swimming ever to gracefully, with their brood, to... a bigger boat. A yacht. Or a pontoon, or anything that will contain more family members. In case you haven't guessed, these peers have gone from a party of five to a party of six, or from six to seven, and so forth. Don't get excited folks, this is not an announcement of any sort, so keep your gasps to a minimum. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I often Facebook stalk, I mean, appropriately observe, how seamlessly other moms seem to handle the increase in their flock. I click through the sweet pictures of the beautiful mother with not a hair out of place, and a soft dewy glow after popping out a baby sans an epidural. I gaze at the seemingly perfect picture of the mom who is holding her minutes old wee one, and the well behaved children are sitting around with "big brother" and "big sister" ever so creatively placed on their shirts, thanks to Pinterest and a late night crafting session, I'm sure. (In my case, I zoomed over to the Carter's outlet mall for clearance sibling shirts, two days before I gave birth to my third, but who's counting?) Oh, and did I mention, my imaginary friend: her hubby is deployed, but it's no sweat for her, since she is an island unto herself. Or so I think, as I pick up my jaw off the kitchen counter, while finishing up the last of my kids' Halloween candy. Boo. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then, I walk away feeling quite defeated, as I barely survive, with far less children and challenges, that this other picture perfect mom has on her plate. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Like a broken record, I repeatedly know many pearls of wisdom in my head, but I so often have difficulty allowing them to sink into my heart. I know that God has made me wonderful and He equips me with the tools I need to be the mother and wife that He intends for me to be. I know that God can use my weaknesses for His glory. I know that God, has a unique calling and future for my life. And these gifts are not the exact same reflection as any other person on this earth. But, it's so hard to not feel like I must be doing something wrong. This is a lot harder than it should be. I often mutter to myself, "I make having three kids look like I have four or more kids!" </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's a message I seem to hear, over and over, but it must be my achilles heel of comparing myself to others when they seem to be parenting with such ease, from my bird's eye view. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I have been mulling around a message of hope for weeks, and it's one I have to remind myself on a regular basis. This word of encouragement is for you, the one that sees from afar, how it looks so easy for others, but not for you. This letter is for you, as if God gave me a message to tell you. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Dear Sister in Christ and Child of the King,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">God's got this. What you are going through is hard. It's beyond hard. Pardon my French, but it sucks. It just does. And it's ok to say this, and God wants to comfort you in your pain as you cry out to him. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's ok to be mad at this situation. He understands. God is not surprised by what's going on. He knew it was coming, and He has been walking with you through this mess, and He will not leave you. Even if you feel like He has. He's there. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Though you have been caught off guard by the difficulty of your life, He's not. Things are happening in your life that don't seem fair. Life is not fair, and it is hard. Life can be so, so hard. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's ok to say, "This is hard." It may look easy to that gal, but it's not. You are not alone in what you are facing and feeling. Others have gone before you, and believers can come alongside of you, if you let them. And let others' know your needs. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Remember that the situation may have changed for you, but God didn't. Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) We can lean on the principles we have learned in His word, during the good times. That God is good. He's good. Let it sink in. Despite your circumstances, and pain, and frustration, He's good. (Psalms 136:1 as one of many examples). And His love endures. Even today, He has not changed. Again, circumstances change, but He hasn't. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Friend, I stand with you, and verbalize to you that this is hard. Having this diagnosis is hard. This tragedy in your family is hard. This deployment is hard. So hard. This loss of your spouse's job is hard. This divorce is hard. Being a single mom is hard. What you are going through, that no one else knows about, is hard. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">For me, when I was going through a dry and challenging time of not being allowed to drive for health reasons, for 6 months, a close family member acknowledged that this circumstance is hard. I don't think anyone else had acknowledged it. They just saw the silver lining, and sometimes you don't want to see the silver lining yet. You don't always want the snazzy Bible verse that matches right up to your life or Romans 8:28, that is blasted back in your face whenever you share your struggle. You just want to be validated that you are not crazy in thinking this is hard. You know to trust in God, but you need some time to get there.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You are not inhuman or broken. You are not just a weak person who needs to suck it up. It's ok to admit that it's not easy. We often try to put on a brave face, but eventually reality sets in and your world seems to be crumbling around you. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This life can be hard, but God's got this. He sees your tears, your frustration, and pain that is deep into your soul. You want to scream at God, and He wants to hold you and dry your tears. He knows too, this is hard. But God is good. He can be trusted. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Love your sister in Christ,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Rachel </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Psalm 34:4-8</span></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-34-4" id="en-NIV-14393" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">4 </sup>I sought the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14393G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup> and he answered me;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-4" style="position: relative;">he delivered<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14393H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> me from all my fears.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-5" id="en-NIV-14394" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">5 </sup>Those who look to him are radiant;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14394I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-5" style="position: relative;">their faces are never covered with shame.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14394J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-6" id="en-NIV-14395" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">6 </sup>This poor man called, and the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> heard him;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-6" style="position: relative;">he saved him out of all his troubles.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14395K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-7" id="en-NIV-14396" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">7 </sup>The angel of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span><sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14396L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> encamps around those who fear him,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-7" style="position: relative;">and he delivers<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14396M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup> them.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-34-8" id="en-NIV-14397" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>Taste and see that the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is good;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14397N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-8" style="position: relative;">blessed is the one who takes refuge<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14397O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup> in him.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-1" id="en-NIV-14841">Psalm 63<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-14841a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+63&version=NIV#fen-NIV-14841a" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</sup></span></span></h3>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-1">A psalm of David. When he was in the Desert of Judah.</span></span></h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">1 </sup>You, God, are my God,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;">earnestly I seek you;</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;">I thirst for you,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14841A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;">my whole being longs for you,</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;">in a dry and parched land</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-1" style="position: relative;">where there is no water.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14841B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-2" id="en-NIV-14842" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">2 </sup>I have seen you in the sanctuary<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14842C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-2" style="position: relative;">and beheld your power and your glory.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14842D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-3" id="en-NIV-14843" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">3 </sup>Because your love is better than life,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14843E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-3" style="position: relative;">my lips will glorify you.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-4" id="en-NIV-14844" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">4 </sup>I will praise you as long as I live,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14844F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-4" style="position: relative;">and in your name I will lift up my hands.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14844G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-5" id="en-NIV-14845" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">5 </sup>I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14845H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-5" style="position: relative;">with singing lips my mouth will praise you.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-6" id="en-NIV-14846" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">6 </sup>On my bed I remember you;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-6" style="position: relative;">I think of you through the watches of the night.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14846I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-7" id="en-NIV-14847" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">7 </sup>Because you are my help,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14847J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-7" style="position: relative;">I sing in the shadow of your wings.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14847K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-8" id="en-NIV-14848" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>I cling to you;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14848L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-8" style="position: relative;">your right hand upholds me.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14848M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-9" id="en-NIV-14849" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>Those who want to kill me will be destroyed;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14849N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-9" style="position: relative;">they will go down to the depths of the earth.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14849O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-63-10" id="en-NIV-14850" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>They will be given over to the sword<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14850P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-10" style="position: relative;">and become food for jackals.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14850Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Ps-63-11" id="en-NIV-14851" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">11 </sup>But the king will rejoice in God;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-11" style="position: relative;">all who swear by God will glory in him,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14851R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-63-11" style="position: relative;">while the mouths of liars will be silenced.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14851S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-63-11" style="position: relative;">My heart is hurting for so many sisters, and I don't even know who you are, but I cry with you. I am praying for you, truly, and I am praying that God surrounds you with His peace and just holds you in His arms. Much love, friend! </span></span></span></div>
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-24013112900128748532013-10-15T00:10:00.000-07:002013-10-15T00:10:49.913-07:00Get on the Boat, yeah. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As I hurriedly dropped off my three year old at preschool the other day, I noticed that I must have missed a virtual memo. (Hey, what's new?) Living in South Carolina, there is naturally a high concentration of USC fans. I'm referring to the University of South Carolina, not the University of Southern California, for any west coast gals who may have been a bit confused. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ok, so, as I passed the precious children making their way to their classrooms, I saw their adorable smocked dresses, rompers, and cheerleading outfits adorned with the gamecocks logo, USC, or anything with maroon, black, and white. Hey, I didn't even know it was game day. And honestly, I didn't mind not knowing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My lack of team spirit for our local college, made me start thinking. (Of course, what else would I do?) I am not from around these parts, nor am I ever. Or so it seems... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here are a couple instant replays from my formative years for you: </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In sixth grade, I was not in the popular girls inner circle of BFF's. I wasn't in the dorky click, or whatever word that would be politically correct now, either. I just straddled the two, known, but never verbalized groups. Without a secret coded invite, the girls that were too cool for school would only allow me to nosh on the tiny morsels of juicy gossip they learned the night before, while putting on their mud masks. Sad, I know. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In college, I was more of a socially wounded butterfly. I would investigate what fun activities the different stereotypical groups of friends were doing, and join in the laughs with those whom I thought had the brightest idea. This activity may have included viewing the "moon over Nashville," playing broom hockey with an impending trip to the ER to see if you broke your dang coxic bone (not me), or a 70's disco party at the skating rink, complete with bell bottoms, followed by a sketchy trip to Waffle House. This method is not highly recommended. I ended up having friendships inches deep and miles long. I later learned to dive in with a more core group, but I wish I would have put my stake in the ground sooner. No Bahamas cruise with uni friends for me. (No offense to those reading...just sharing life experiences!) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Being a part of a sports team involving white leather balls that you spike, was also a mixed bag of feelings for me in my college days. I knew I played an integral role as the unofficial head cheerleader, as I sat on the bench for four years, simultaneously documenting statistics. Although, it was rather unfortunate, because I had quite a lot of untapped energy that was wasted, until I cashed it in while running around a dimly lit track, at hours of the night when I should have been studying. Or sleeping. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Thankfully, such "trials," if you could say that, prepared me to become a military wife. Having your spouse in the military means many things. One of them being, that if you want to live outside of the four walls of your home, you have no choice, but to dive into the waters of uncharted territory, with little assistance. I know, it's not always the case, but it happens more times than we would like to admit. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In my own story, there have been numerous occasions where, during family gatherings, I am fighting back tears as I frantically chase my toddler who is trying to unwittingly fall down the basement stairs to his demise. At least, this is what I fear the most. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">There are memories of stamping parties, when the husband is away defending our country, and so I must have the screaming baby who would really like to nurse, along for a "girls night out." Now that's what I call fun times! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I know I'm not alone in experiences of Wednesday night church gatherings, hauling a surprisingly weighty stroller in and out of a car, like She ra, princess of power, in order to make it happ'n cap'n. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My point is not to say, "Whoa is me," but to get us thinking. And there are scads of other wives who have lived through much braver feats than me, like birthing their babies alone, buying houses without their mate, going through major health crises, and the list goes on. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Through the years, I have realized that we are not made to have to fit in to every group that we come across. We can settle in to where God wants us to be and who He wants us to share our lives with, in each chapter of our lives. </span><br />
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<span class="text 1Pet-2-11-1Pet-2-12" id="en-MSG-12835"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As women who often have to keep the home fires burning without burning down the house, we can remember that God has placed us exactly where He wants us. He has gone before us, and has made a way for us to have the fellowship we require for our sanity as women. Often, we have access to other families who are in our boat, we just have to give them a life preserver! </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Even in desolate times, when we are feeling lonely and isolated, we can cry out to God to meet our needs. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text John-15-15" id="en-ESV-26703"><span class="woj">Joshua 1:9</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">"9 </sup>Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5861A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> do not be discouraged,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5861B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God will be with you wherever you go.”</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And, ultimately, though it's not always fun to hear, this world is not our home! This life is short, and in the end most of the things we worry about and obsess over, do not matter. We are told to store up for ourselves treasures in heaven, not cling to this earth. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Hebrews 13:14-15</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Heb-13-14" id="en-NLT-30216"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">"14 </sup>For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Heb-13-15" id="en-NLT-30217"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">15 </sup>Therefore, let us offer through Jesus a continual sacrifice of praise to God, proclaiming our allegiance to his name.</span> <span class="text Heb-13-16" id="en-NLT-30218"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">16 </sup>And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God."</span></span><br />
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<span class="text Rom-12-2" id="en-NIV-28248"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Whether we are military wives, single moms, moms whose husbands are away on business, or a mom who feels overwhelmed juggling it all, we have our own hurdles to jump and mountains to climb, with the strength of the Lord. The reality is that we often feel alone in the journey, and not an official VIP member of any one group. When we set our pride aside and reach out to others for help, (which military wives are TERRIBLE at, myself included) we may just find someone that can join us in our boat, before we go under. Often, we need others just as much as they need us to stay afloat! </span></span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-12-2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">While we stand shoulder to shoulder with the "family" that we choose, remember, that this life is but a vapor, this world is not our eternal home, and that the Lord is with us, even if it feels like we are the only ones who didn't get the memo. </span></span></div>
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<br />Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-14042271122947636712013-10-09T22:51:00.001-07:002013-10-09T22:51:58.931-07:00Hank and Beans<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I have always been on the more naive, or rather gullible side of life. When boys would tell me that the word gullible was written on the ceiling, I would say, "Really?" and look up, about every time. Maybe I was too trusting, and thought the best of people. Or, so I like to tell myself. And no, I am not a blonde. Does that stereotype still exist? That must be haircolorism or some politically correct term...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In the same regard as my gullibility, as a young girl, I was always a simple optimist. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Inquisitive adults would often ask me, "What would you like to be when you grow up, Rachel?" I would quickly and cheerfully reply that I would like to be a mother. It's true. I think I even have some documents written in crayon to prove it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I know, it wasn't a very creative answer, but it was my answer. I loved playing with other kids. Who doesn't at that age? It appeared to me like a pretty fun job, getting to rock babies to sleep, kiss boo boos, and drink Diet Coke. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Over the years, I mentally made a checklist of the milestones of motherhood that I had to look forward to when I donned the title of Mommy. Here are some of these moments I knew, or I thought I knew that I would do as a mother: 1) Scream at my husband and say that I hated him while giving birth. That's how they always presented child birth in the movies, so I figured that it must be true. 2) Be sprayed with pee pee, by my son, as I changed his diaper. 3) Have poop on my nose, and I would not be able to figure out where the horrid smell is coming from. 4) Rush to the emergency room because my child has shoved a bean up his nose. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Well, so far, I didn't exactly scream at my husband during the three births that we have endured together. I just squeezed the life out of his hand, and so I am pretty sure he thinks that we had about the same amount of pain. I did have an epidural, so that makes it all a piece of cake. Right? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I have, without a doubt, been sprayed with urine during the changing of the diaper. And, I have unknowingly wiped poop on my nose. But, I think I figured it out pretty quickly as to the source of the odor. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Poop smell on your hands is the worst. Just throwing that out there. And you can wash and wash your hands, and often it is still there. Then you keep smelling your hands in disbelief, like you can't believe that your hands still have an unbearable smell on them. Or maybe that's just me too. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ok, so now we are down to number four on my list. Rushing my child to the ER because he or she has shoved a bean up their nose. Ding ding ding, we have a winner! I can now check that one off my list. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I'll go into a little more detail for your own amusement. Rice and beans. What do you think of when you hear, "rice and beans?" I think of a few things. I can hear Dave Ramsey saying that phrase, when referring to what you should be eating when you are getting out of debt. Secondly, I think of the huge pain in the buns that rice and beans creates when you use this in its dry form in order to enlighten the minds and imaginations of children. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In times of desperation, I give my kids rice and beans to play with, as a distraction for when I have to cook. They absolutely love it, and it gives them a chance to scoop and feel different textures. At first, it's so cute, and they are just being little angels smiling and transferring rice and beans, and beans and rice. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then, quickly, rice and beans start to be thrown high into the air, with much laughter ensuing. After verbal correction, the throwing does not cease. While raw chicken is on your hands, it's quite difficult to manually discipline children, in order for them to obey. So, as to not scream, I often feel my blood pressure rising as the food particles get more and more dispersed around the floors. I am by no means a neat freak, or a good housekeeper at all, and so it must be pretty bad if I am losing my cool over a messy and creative activity. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My daughter eventually gets bored of playing with the rice and beans near the kitchen and so she travels, unbeknownst to me, to the living room, where she then dumps a large container of the edible toy onto the coffee table. Of course, the mess is all over the floor as well. I decide to not stress out about it, and I'll just deal with it later. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My kids get bored, once again, of the rice and beans, and I allow them to watch a show as they await dinner time. My husband works late hours in the Marine Corps, and so he was not home yet. While sitting in their personalized chairs, enjoying their show, my middle son, Henry, who is 3, declares, "I stuck a bean up my nose!" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I ask him if he's joking. He replies he is not. I tell him, almost in jest, that we are heading straight to the emergency room if he really did. I was hoping it would just scare him enough to say that it was really a joke. Unfortunately, it was not a joke. With my handie smart phone light, I looked up his tiny nostril, to see a pinto bean, barely visible. Ugh. This is really happening. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I called my husband to dramatically announce that we have to go to the ER and that he should come home immediately if he can. Friends who would normally watch my other two in an emergency, but one set had kids throwing up, and I didn't want to share in that love,and others were busy doing extracurricular activities. And I kind of just wanted my husband to come home, because if a bean up the nose is not an emergency, then what is?! Take that USMC. ;) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I called my dad who is a family doctor and he gave me some home remedies to try to dislodge the bean. It could not be blown out by Henry, or by my own air pressure. Off to the ER it was. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My husband finally arrived and so I scarfed down the soup that I had painstakingly been working on all day. I did not want to be starving at the ER. Nothing is worse than being hungry at a hospital, with a sick kid. I had Henry eat something kid friendly because this was not the time to make him eat his veggies. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Henry and I had some quality time together, jumping through the usual hoops, once at the hospital. Eventually, in our own room, a nurse be-bops in to to see us, chuckling about the situation at hand. I guess it is pretty funny when a kid has shoved something up his nose, but it's not very funny at the time, to the parent. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The resident seemed stumped as to the best course of action, and the attending physician was called into the room for back up. Several techniques were attempted, including the blowing again through his mouth to pop that sucker out. No luck. Again. Suction, no luck. Syringe, no luck. Tweezers, not happening. During this time, as you can imagine, Henry is screaming and thrashing about like a tiny man in a straight jacket, as I am holding him down, and attempt to calm him down in between techniques. Can we say, "Fun times?!" </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Who's laughing now? Ha ha.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">After about six people on the medical staff are in the room, giving moral or physical support, and one long and narrow hook later, the bean finally descends past the nostril, for an exit stage left. Thank you Lord! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Henry's frown turned upside down once I gave him a ring pop (yes, I thought ahead!) and a few more hugs and kisses. He agreed to never shove anything else up his nose, ever again. I am really hoping and praying that he keeps his word on this one. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So, there has to be a moral to this story, right??!!! For days prior to the legume creating drama, I was at the end of my patience rope with Henry. He had been acting even more irrational than his usual three year old self is on an average day. He purposefully broke his brother's piggy bank, spat upon Jack's friends and bit them, and even flashed his family jewels to his brother. At least he kept them in the family. Yes. It was bad. Or at least mortifying to me, as a mother. I couldn't figure out what was into him. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">After giving such special attention to Henry, with the ER trip, his attitude changed today. He was more obedient, eager to help and show affection towards our family, and he kept his teeth and other body parts where they belonged. Success! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">His behavior has made me wonder whether his lashing out was partly due to the lack of personalized attention lately, from me. Kids shouldn't' have adults answering their every demand, but at times, it's good to make a special connection with your child. It's unfortunate that it took a trip to the ER to figure this out, but I am praying that this will be part of the solution to future misbehaviors, which will undoubtedly rise up again. Probably tomorrow. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In the same way, as believers, we often start to rebel when we choose to not spend quality time with God, one on one. It's easy for me to enjoy corporate worship, and Bible studies. But it's more of a hurdle to make time, with just God and myself. I find myself multi-tasking, doing many spiritual things, like sermons on my phone, praise and worship music, and Christian podcasts. But it's so difficult for me to listen to what God is teaching me, in silence, or without distractions. We are told to be still and know that he is God. (Psalm 46:10). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">With so many sounds, from kids chatting about, cartoons playing in the background, the trumpet calling outside in our military neighborhood, and a phone chiming away with new texts, I forget to talk to God about what is personally concerning me, and on my heart. I constantly am trying to improve myself, but it has been harder to be silent. Or to just read or listen to God's word, without all the frills. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Hebrews 4:12-13 "<span class="text Heb-4-12" id="en-NIV-30027"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">12 </sup>For the word of God<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30027M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup> is alive<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30027N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup> and active.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30027O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup> Sharper than any double-edged sword,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30027P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup> it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30027Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Heb-4-13" id="en-NIV-30028"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">13 </sup>Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30028R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup>Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">God is jealous for us, and created us to be in a personal relationship with Him. The closer we are to him, the more we walk in His ways. Not because we have to, but because our love for Him grows. We then desire to obey. We trust that God is good, and He wants what is best for us. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I encourage you to join me in my decision to make a conscious effort to not only make one on one time with my child a priority, to strengthen that relationship, but to seek a quiet moment to listen to what God has for me, in my own personal relationship with Him. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The next time you are faced with the mommy moment that you have always looked forward to/dreaded, you can remember that God can use even the most random of events to draw you closer to your children, and to Himself. Even if your child has to grow a bean stalk up his nose first. :) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-10659614700695234252013-10-05T21:26:00.001-07:002013-10-05T21:26:51.841-07:00Hurry Up and Wait<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Forgive me, friends. It has been 13 days since my last confession, I mean, blog post. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Some days… Okay most days, I am about five minutes late. Or ten....Or just running behind in general. To church,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">to school, to soccer practice, to life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Unfortunately, when I am even more behind the eight ball than usual, I have been up to 30 minutes late. Gasp. I know. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; line-height: 15px;">Yesterday was one of those days where it seemed like nothing was coming together. I needed to get a TB test for future employment (yes, I feel so grown up!), and so I went to the hospital (or "to hospital" if you live on the other side of the pond) on our military base. I held my head high as I smartly grabbed a ticket at the pharmacy. Surely I would have plenty of time to make it back before they called my number so I could fill a few prescriptions. I had been putting this task off for a few months now. Oh they were just refills, pish posh.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When I went to the sixth floor I soon found out that the TB tests were not administered on Thursdays, because they could not be read over the weekend. Delightful. (Note: sarcasm.) Flu shots (or flu mists, should you happen to be so lucky) were offered at the same location. And so I thought, "Self, this may be the perfect time to get your flu shot, or your flu mist, should you happen to be so lucky." As luck had it, I drew the straw for the flu mist. After the successful sprays up the ol' nostrils, by a stranger that I now see around the soccer fields with his kids (awkward!!- just kidding, it's really fine), I refrained from blowing my nose for the five minutes, as instructed. Remember, I am a good Marine wife. I know how to follow orders. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Back to the story. Ellie and I are now back in the waiting area, anticipating the calling of my assigned number for the good stuff. I made a few laps around the questionably well patients, pushing Ellie around in her stroller. I feverishly prayed that we would not acquire the germ that may or may not have been airborne the moment we whizzed by them. As you know with toddlers, they cannot sit still for a prolonged amount of time. Or at least any child I have ever borne. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In a moment of weakness, I decided that it was a good time to use the little girl's room. It wasn't even urgent. No diaper to change, or sticky hands to wipe. Just the routine procedure.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When I returned, to my dismay, I discovered that my number had been called in my absence. Surely, the sweet, yet sassy lady handing out tickets would just have them call my number again right away. I have a fussy toddler. Surely you have some sympathy. My luck had worn off. (Don't worry theologians, I don't really believe in "luck.") Do not pass go, do not collect your free drugs. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Discouraged and dejected, I stared at my new ticket stub in disbelief, with an approximate wait time of... 28 minutes. So much for my bright idea to grab a ticket early. Back to the drawing board.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Once again, I prayed that we wouldn't catch any contagious diseases. My adorable, well behaved child, quickly became my cute yet squirmy girl, then escalating to my precious yet screaming child. Time to abort mission!! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">After throwing in the colloquial towel, I gave my winning ticket to another struggling mother, since my number was about ten patients ahead of hers. And so, I spent about two hours getting nothing on my to do list, accomplished. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Hey, at least I got my flu shot. I mean mist. And yes, I believe in vaccinations. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">What seemed like a series of unfortunate events, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. A few days later, I returned to the hospital for a doctor's appointment for my eldest son. The doctor prescribed him a new script, and so I had to pick that up the next day anyway. And, while sitting and waiting for the prescriptions (without kids, thank you Lord for the reprieve), I was able to talk with a mom who had lost her eleven year old son about a year before, after he had a fatal seizure. Our conversation was cut short, but I am praying to run into her again,to offer some words of encouragement. If nothing else, I will pray for her healing heart, even if we never cross paths again. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Our human timing is rarely perfect. In the past few months, my own timing has included signing my son up for soccer, the day of his first practice, calling my middle child's projected pre-school at the end of the summer, only to find out that the pre-school is now full, and waiting until the 9th month of the year to find a job. The Lord took my own failures, and turned them for my good. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Jack is in a soccer team he loves, that had one extra space for him, where he is learning to play goalie. Henry is now in a Christian pre-school that I would have never known about if I had not had to ask a friend if she could recommend one. At orientation, God orchestrated the meeting of a fellow military wife that recently moved into town without connections on base, and an instant and lasting friendship began. And, in His timing, the job that I soon start, was not available until the month I began searching. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">There is not always a, "happily ever after," in our own procrastination or best efforts to stay on track. But God can still use these moments for our good. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Psalm 18:30- This God-his way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">What a relief that His way is perfect, and we don't have to be! We can be shielded from the arrows of this world, by our Lord. Even when you live in a "city" that never sleeps, that watches and documents every second of every day with social media, we can rest in Him and His timing.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I can strive to be on time, and to not miss a deadline. Sometimes I'll hit the mark. And other times, I will be off. Way off. And that's ok. Life comes with many unplanned hurdles, and sometimes our shins get smacked. Hard. And we have to shake it off, keep running, and leap again. In His power, we carry on. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I am certain that the race continues tomorrow morning. Our family shall rise with the sun, and children shall whine with our decision to make them wear pants. We shalt probably be tardy and/or miss Sunday school class. However... that doesn't define us. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Romans 8:37-39</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Rom-8-37" id="en-NIV-28154"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">37 </sup>No, in all these things we are more than conquerors<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28154CB" title="See cross-reference CB">CB</a>)"></sup> through him who loved us.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28154CC" title="See cross-reference CC">CC</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Rom-8-38" id="en-NIV-28155"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">38 </sup>For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28155k" title="See footnote k">k</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans%208&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28155k" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote k">k</a>]</sup> neither the present nor the future,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28155CD" title="See cross-reference CD">CD</a>)"></sup> nor any powers,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28155CE" title="See cross-reference CE">CE</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">39 </sup>neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28156CF" title="See cross-reference CF">CF</a>)"></sup> that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">These trivial things in life do not separate us from the love of God. We are still conquerors through Him, even in our human shortcomings. And most importantly, He shows us the love, even when the lady giving out the pharmacy ticket numbers does not. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-17102547425170781902013-09-22T23:16:00.001-07:002013-09-22T23:16:47.409-07:00Crazy Love <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Sometimes I think I have more conversations with myself than I do with other people throughout the day. (Does that make me crazy?!!) On the more frustrating days, I have a constant diatribe of arguments in my own mind on what I should have done better.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here are some random samplings from my own brain housing unit:</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You can't seem to get your preschoolers to school on time? Really? How hard can that be? Other moms seem to do it just fine, and they have more kids than you do. What's your excuse? </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You lost your cell phone again? Seriously? Just put it in the same place everyday, depending upon the room you are in, and this won't be a problem. It's that easy. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ok, lady, who forgets that it's their kids' show and tell day? Oh, you? That's ridiculous. That's more than ridiculous. It's sad. Quite sad. Are you sure you even love your son? By your forgetfulness, apparently not. Do better. P.S.- Running selected object into class ten minutes after the presentations are over, does not cut it.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Can't you get your act together enough to make a crockpot meal so dinner can be ready on time? That can't be too difficult, can it? Having your children eat dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets with a GoGurt does not count as a balanced meal. You must have been misinformed. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Excuse me, my dear. How long does it take to make a dental appointment? Less than five minutes, you say? Piece of cake. But don't allow your kids to eat that cake, for their teeth will surely rot and they will have a mouth full of cavities. Or wooden teeth, because you won't be able to afford that much silver. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Slow down there, Bessy. That's how many cups of coffee, and how many glasses of water? Something is not adding up, and you are going to pay for it. One way or another.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Ugh!! How hard is it to get a stinkin' birthday card in the mail on time? You knew it was coming up for the last month, so why did you just now realize it's too late? The post office is really not that intimidating, is it? </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Please tell me, oh wise one, why does it take you so long to do the dishes? Everybody has to do this daily task. Should it really absorb this amount of time? You must be doing something wrong. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Reality check. Your other friends get up early to exercise before their kids are awake. Why is that so hard for you to not hit the snooze icon <ha> three times? Get up sleepy head. Rise and shine, and don't sleep your life away. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Hmmm, you really couldn't find a matching hair bow OR matching socks? I'm pretty sure that you are making your kids look like they are homeless. People will start throwing quarters at their heads if you don't change this pattern of disorganization. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Oh, and one more thing. You must have an anger management problem because you scream at your kids WAY too much. And it's not really working. Can't you get more creative in your discipline approach? Go read one of those parenting books by your bedside that is collecting dust. Or maybe there's an app for anger management. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">… I think you get the picture. Unfortunately this can easily be my inner monologue. Terrible, I know. I have a feeling I'm not alone with this negative self-talk. What a depressing place to be inside of your head! We become our own punching bags whenever such thoughts cross our minds. No one would ever say that many cruel things to us, or at least they shouldn't! So, why do we allow ourselves to think such evil thoughts about the woman that God created? We often set up for ourselves such high standards that we cannot give ourselves a break. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">We all have areas in which we need to improve our habits. I know I do for sure. (See above.) However, it does not help when our minds become kamikaze planes </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">in the meantime. It does not become productive. It is just defeating and demoralizing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">As women of God, we must learn to replace the negative self-talk with the truth that God lays out in His word. We are loved, we are called His children, and He made no mistakes with us.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Zephaniah 3:17</strong> <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.</em><span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: normal;"><span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Even in the midst of our constant errors, he is rejoicing over us, and loving us unconditionally. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: normal;"><span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">1 John 3:1</strong><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him.</em><span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></span><span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /></b></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 1John-3-1" id="en-NIV-30581">Think of the love you have for your children. (Even if you also forgot to send your child's show and tell toy with him.) Our heavenly Father has heaps more love for us, than we could ever love our own children. We are called the children of God! </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 1John-3-1" id="en-NIV-30581">If ever there was a chapter that gives us reassurance of how we are designed by God, wonderfully, it is Psalm 139. It's a keeper.<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20139&version=NIV" target="_blank">Psalm 139</a></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A strong friendship is a lifeline to so many of us, especially during motherhood.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I am floored by the fact that Jesus calls us His friends. Not only this, but He gave his life for His friends. No greater love than that! (John 15) And we are in His circle of friends? It's more of an honor than we often recognize. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></span><div class="passage version-NIV result-text-style-normal text-html ">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You are fearfully, and wonderfully made. Nothing is a surprise to Him. Even in your faults, he is singing over you, and delights in you. I love the sweet moments where I can honestly delight in my kids. To think that our heavenly Father has the same (ok, more!) love and delight for YOU, should give you exactly the come back you need to silence the inner foe! Once she is quiet, you might not feel so crazy anymore. I hope. ;) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20139&version=NIV" target="_blank">Psalm 139</a></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-29911973889563384282013-09-10T22:56:00.000-07:002013-09-10T22:56:29.864-07:00Make Me a Bird<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Let's be honest here. There are many days as a parent where you just want to cry. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">What type of tears, do you ask? Is it the happy tears of watching your daughter at her first ballet recital? Aww... But,nope. Is it the tears of joy when you see your son walk across the stage for his highschool graduation? Again, nope. How about the tears that well up in your eyes when your brood of children are playing quietly together and giggling? That is quite the precious moment which I adore, however, that is not the type of tears I am referring to at this time. Is it the kind of tears where it seems that nothing has gone right all day and you feel like you must be the worst mom ever? Well folks, I think we have a winner! Well, you happen to have caught me on one of those days. Surprise, surprise. ;-) </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" />Here are some clips from my highlight reel that you may relate to:</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" />1) I let my preschool son skip his morning of higher education today only to realize later in the afternoon that it was class picture day. Oh, yes. I wish I could say that this is the first time that happened. Class historians may notice that his older brother is missing from his preschool class pictures two years ago. Awesome.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2) I always know that I have reached the "bribery gone wrong" phase in the candy isle of the commissary when my vocal toddler is now miraculously quiet. A few minutes later, I pay for this blunder, for she now has two sticky hands and a hot pink face from the colorful lollipop that I opened in a moment of weakness. Since I committed to buy one thing I don't really need, I quickly realized that I now appear to be stealing, (now I'm a repeat offender) in order to open some baby wipes for the sticky emergency. A lollipop will only buy so much tantrum-free time, that I had no choice but to move on to the Chex mix that I had no intention of purchasing before five minutes ago. At least I found a coupon, so that's a bonus. Fantastic.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3) After a distracted child of mine ignores the sound of his mother's voice when asked a question repeatedly with no response, he proceeded to have the meltdown of the century when a privilege had been taken away. I've never met a human that loves gum so much.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">4)It is only fitting that the Gatorade cap was not secured properly and therefore spilled all over my double stroller, soon after arriving 15 minutes late to soccer practice. Three kids, two wet and stained seats, and one frazzled mom. I love it. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">We all have these kinds of days that make you want to just cry, and you pray to God to be made into a bird so you can fly far. Far, far away from here... or from anyone that needs your assistance for survival. Often, mothers are so quick to verbally minimize the marathon of parenting. We all should have positive outlooks, but I think it's ok for us to say, "This is hard. Very hard. And I want to cry." It's so easy to have negative self talk, and we fight with the voice in our head that tells us we are weak, or abnormal, or defeated, or the "worstest mom ever." </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">2 Corinthians 12:9-11</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Cor-12-9" id="en-NIV-29032"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>But he said to me, <span class="woj">“My grace<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29032B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> is sufficient for you, for my power<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29032C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup>is made perfect in weakness.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29032D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup>”<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29032E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup></span> Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.</span> <span class="text 2Cor-12-10" id="en-NIV-29033"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29033F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup> in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29033G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup> in persecutions,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29033H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">I don't know about you, but I am thankful that God's grace is sufficient for me. For, as you can see, my weaknesses abound. So many days, I cry out to God for strength to keep running, to take another step in this hard, yet joyful road. As daughters of Christ, His Spirit is strong in us, and so that truly does make us a truly unique and chosen SuperMom. (You can even choose your own superhero mom name. I'm still working on mine.) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">What a comfort knowing that He sees your tears, His grace covers you, and by His grace, you can tap into the same power- that power of God is in you. My prayer, is that even in the midst of these terrible, no good, very bad days, we can see God's love for us. And in turn, we can share that love with our children, our families, and those around us. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Check this out for a positive word of encouragement to feed your soul! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">Give Me Faith by Elevation Worship</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; line-height: 15px;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyYj9HCDixc</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Verse:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I need You to soften my heart,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />To break me apart.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I need You to open my eyes,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />To see that You're shaping my life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Pre-Chorus:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />All I am,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I surrender.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Chorus:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Give me faith to trust what You say<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />That You're good, and Your love is great.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I'm broken inside, I give You my life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Verse 2:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I need You to soften my heart,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />To break me apart.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I need You to pierce through the dark<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />And cleanse every part of me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Bridge:<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I may be weak, but<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Your Spirit's strong in me.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />My flesh may fail, but<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />My God You never will. (repeat)</span></div>
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-9069059074757320732013-09-07T23:15:00.001-07:002013-09-07T23:15:24.314-07:00Won't You Be My Neighbor? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Just another Saturday afternoon at the local children's museum today. You know, the kind where you have a panic attack about three times throughout the funtivities. You start thinking that your child must be abducted, because you can't seem to find the child you claim as your own, amongst sea of colors, flashing before your eyes. (I always try to put my kids in brightly colored clothing to spot them easily, but it seems like other parents must be stealing my memos from iCloud.) It's always a relief when you finally hear a squeal that you recognize in another room, and finally lay eyes on them. Your chest, rises and falls, in a sigh of relief. </span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Am I the only one who experiences this? We have "only" three. I can't imagine having a greater head count at this stage, but I suppose that the older they get, the more sets of eyes you have to help look out for the little people who like to chase shiny objects in another room. It's difficult to not feel rather claustrophobic in places where children are the focus, because it is surely filled with children experiencing an array of emotions including elation (loud), surprise (also loud), or exhaustion (very, very loud). </span><div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Today, while experiencing the aforementioned chaos, my husband and I ran into our former neighbors from the last place we called home. In case you haven't heard, military families have to move. A lot. And so, we chat it up for a few minutes with our old neighbors. The conversation was cordial and went something like this. "Hey, how are y'all doing? What a coincidence, seeing your family here!", I exclaim while recognizing them. "Yes, how are y'all doing lately?", they reply. "Oh, we live here now." ..."Oh wow, really? How long have you been here?" ... "We moved about five months ago."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">We kept the small talk going, of course, but it really made me start thinking about neighbors. Having lived in six homes, in the last 9 years, we have had our fair share of new neighbors. And, by default, I suppose, I have been, "Like a good neighbor," and a rather poor one. As a good neighbor early in our married life, we assisted one elderly widow to one side of us do some chores around her house. Unfortunately, to the other side of our duplex, we had another elderly neighbor whom we did not seem to see very often. There is a rather peculiar, I mean, sad, sad story about this mysterious cat lady. I will not do that story justice, and so I will just say that we didn't see her in her living state again. Nor did anyone else. Neighbor FAIL. <Public service announcement- Please check on your neighbors if they happen to live alone. Do not assume that they must be very sleepy. Thank you.> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And so, as you can imagine, we have had a variety of neighborly situations. We took the good. We took the bad. We took them both. And now we have... The facts of life. The facts of life. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In my pondering, I thought about how Jesus told his disciples that the greatest commandments were to 1) Love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind. 2) Love your neighbor as yourself. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As a kid, I am pretty sure I heard that a time or two. Or fifty seven. Every time, I thought that Jesus was just using "neighbor" as an analogy. He must really mean to love your family, your friends, and the kids in Ethiopia, that I am sending my vegetables to. It doesn't really mean your actual neighbor, so I am all good. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Not until the last year or so, has that passage made more sense to me. In Mark 12:32, the man that asked Jesus the question, went on to say, "And to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” It boggled my mind how this neighborly love could be that number "two" of the commandments. What about, "Do not murder," or "Do not steal," or the other whoppers that I don't really need to worry about as much. Why are they not up there? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's our human nature to care for ourselves. We tend to fight to survive. With so many conveniences in our own survival techniques, we don't exactly have to hunt for food, or find wild berries. But, we do a rather stellar job at looking out for numero uno. For the most part, of course. So, to love your neighbor as yourself- dang. That's ridonkulous. I'm pretty sure that's German for ridiculous.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But the other kicker, was truly reexamining who "your neighbor" is. This may not be in a theology book, but this is my take on it: A neighbor truly does start at your door step. Who are the people that are close in proximity to you? Obviously, your physical neighbors, count as neighbors. Duh?! But so very many of us don't even start there. We just jump right back to our childhood vision of Ethiopa, and determine that the plane ride may be a little too expensive, so we just go right back to the first commandment. And we send a shoe box on that plane once a year. Done and done. (Note- please continue shoe box tradition. Excellent.) The first commandment about loving God is a lot safer and it's just between me and God. I can do that in my sleep. (Not really, but I know we think it's a no-brainer.)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Why not start loving your neighbor, with your actual neighbor? If you can't reach the family that you can literally throw a stick at from your bedroom window, then who are you going to reach in your community? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">P.S- I am no Mother Teresa here. This is for me, as much as it is for you. But if you read any other post, you may know that by now. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Right now, even as I type, while other families sleep, there may be a mother who is crying after losing her baby months ago, but the pain still remains. A young boy is missing his mother, who is a world away in the Middle East, and he only sees her through moving pictures on a screen. A mom is worrying how she will juggle another new baby in her family, while working on the side to make some extra money to save for their future. These aren't just scenarios. I know they are in my neighborhood, and I am sure that heartache, and every day struggles are in yours too. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The easiest place to start, is only a few blocks down and we have no idea, most of the time. You know what they say about what happens when we assume. I need not go on, but it's true! Why do I keep doing this over and over? I assume that all is well, and in reality it's not "ok." </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">One of my blunders from our last home was to assume a neighbor right across the street, had friends and was plugged into a working community. I had welcomed her into the neighborhood with the southern tradition of a sweet note and cookies. But since she didn't return the baton to me during the next few months, I assumed that that I had done my part, and it's all on her if she needs anything else. About 9 months later or so, a week before we moved, I found out that she still had not found a Bible study, and had been staying at home all summer with her two kids, just as I had sat with mine. We were a slab of asphalt apart, but I let my pride determine that the ball was in her court, and so I was free of all "duty." Even some of you are now agreeing with my old self, but hello ladies! Just because you threw it out there once, doesn't mean you are done. I know you can't ask forever, but it's the reality that some people are more hesitant to ask for help, or share their heart. You may have to follow up with them to give them a second chance at true communal living, for the benefit of you both! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I can get off my soapbox, but this is a matter that's pretty strongly connected to who I am, and what I have struggled with, on both ends: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As the woman in need of a neighbor to reach out to me, and the woman who has the opportunity to give that cup of cold water in His name. And thankfully, I eventually obeyed God in connecting strongly to a neighborhood family. And a lifelong friendship began. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">We all have ideas of what we can do to be that neighbor that Jesus commands us to be. God may be calling us to make a meal for the new mom, or to watch the kids of someone who has a deployed husband so she can go to the dentist, or even the grocery store, alone! He may lay on your heart the family who may look like they have it all together, but who is really in the same boat as you, struggling to keep your heads above water. But, now you just have to be bold enough to take the first step in forming a friendship. Never assume. Ever! I am shocked by my own assumptions, and humbled by my own actions of ignoring that still small voice that tells me to make an effort. We are all busy, but it truly is the small things, that make an enormous difference in being a true neighbor. Don't let a neighbor move away, and realize a few months later that you never even missed them. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Mark 12: 28-35</span></div>
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<span class="text Mark-12-28" id="en-NIV-24702"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The Greatest Commandment<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24702A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup></span></span></h3>
<span class="text Mark-12-28"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">28 </sup>One of the teachers of the law<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24702B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Mark-12-29" id="en-NIV-24703"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">29 </sup>“The most important one,”</span> answered Jesus, <span class="woj">“is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-24703a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+12%3A28-31&version=NIV#fen-NIV-24703a" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</sup></span></span> <span class="text Mark-12-30" id="en-NIV-24704"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">30 </sup>Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-24704b" title="See footnote b">b</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+12%3A28-31&version=NIV#fen-NIV-24704b" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote b">b</a>]</sup><sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24704C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup></span></span> <span class="text Mark-12-31" id="en-NIV-24705"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">31 </sup>The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’<sup class="footnote" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-24705c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+12%3A28-31&version=NIV#fen-NIV-24705c" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote c">c</a>]</sup><sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24705D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> There is no commandment greater than these.”</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Mark-12-32" id="en-NIV-24706"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">32 </sup>“Well said, teacher,” the man replied. “You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24706W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Mark-12-33" id="en-NIV-24707"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">33 </sup>To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24707X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Mark-12-34" id="en-NIV-24708"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">34 </sup>When Jesus saw that he had answered wisely, he said to him,<span class="woj">“You are not far from the kingdom of God.”<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24708Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup></span> And from then on no one dared ask him any more questions.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 0.65em;"><sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24708Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup></span></span></span><br />
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-52032385363357093362013-08-28T19:52:00.001-07:002013-08-28T19:57:08.479-07:00Hello Kitty Rain Boots <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My 20 month old daughter, Ellie loves shoes. She lives and breathes shoes. She wakes up in the morning saying "Shoes, shoes, shoes," over and over. "Shoes!" And over. One day last week, just out of pure curiosity, I counted how many times she said the word shoes. 100 times. So I do not exaggerate when I say that she perseverates on shoes. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My precious shoeaholic wants to put them on immediately when she awakes. Tonight she actually went to bed with her light metallic pink Mary Janes on her feet, sans socks, per her request. This tiny demand was even after her bath, mind you, and so we have that out of the way for tomorrow. Oh, wait. She will want to change into another pair that she comes across in the morning. So, disregard! For those wondering, I tried to sneak them off of her, when she was almost asleep. In her dimly lit room, she grabbed my wrist, and grunted her displeasure. And so I stopped. You win, Ellie, you win. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">All shoes are up for grabs with this little fashionista. She will walk into my closet and try on some colorful high heels, shiny flats, or even old flip flops. She then attempts to parade through the house in her shoes of choice, readjusting the fit and alignment every few steps. Men's and boys' shoes are not off limits to her. She happily tries on her brother's crocs, which makes Henry lose his mind. Being three, he doesn't quite understand the concept of sharing yet. Much to my chagrin. After the ensuing fight has been broken up, over a measly pair of stinky (literally) shoes, she moves on to the next pair.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Often she will find a pair that she has grown out of, that I have been too lazy, I mean too focused on other things, to put them out of her reach. She then says, "Shoes, shoes!" while shoving them in my face, earnestly trying to have me put them on for her. Chubby feet and shoes that are too small, are not a match made in heaven. With her cries and my determination, her piggies finally nestle into their beds... For about 5 seconds, before they are kicked off, and the routine starts over again. Ugh. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Today a pair of pink Hello Kitty Rain boots made their debut at pre-school, about two sizes too big for her. Pick your battles, right?! Thrift shops are my achilles heel, thus she often has shoes that are a tee tiny bit too big. Or a lot, in this case. Hey, who can pass up on $6 rain boots in show room condition? Like the organized and prepared mother that I am (stop laughing!), I put an extra pair of fitting shoes in her bag. She had those on by the time I went to pick her up at noon. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Most kids these days are fascinated with something, whether it is trains, jewelry accessories, their lovie, Buzz Lightyear, or American Girl dolls. These age appropriate obsessions, we may find adorable, and infuriating at the same time. Just keep the dang shoes on already!!! I would be lying if I had not said that to some degree. Children and their keen interests may be driving us to our graves, but it also cultivates our patience, in a way we could have never imagined before having children. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Growing up in the church, I often heard the Bible verses in Romans about how suffering produces perseverance, and perseverance, character, and character, hope. </span><br />
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<span class="text Rom-5-5" id="en-NIV-28053" style="font-weight: normal;">I am not trying to say that parenting is all suffering. It is a pure joy many times a day, but it can also be a challenging time that grows and matures your character. God is transforming you into the person that He wants for you to be, even as you try not to lose your patience when your child is talking about something, over and over again! It's hard to see these moments as a moment of growth, I have no doubt. But it can be encouraging to look back at your day, and think that as you persevered, it produced character, and the character produced hope, that is in Christ. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">The Message version of the passage helped me to see these verses in a new light. See if it doesn't open up your eyes a bit, to the patience that has been developed in you as a mother. For you have a lot more of it, than you realize! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Romans 5:3-5</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">...The next time you may lose your patience, for if it is a day ending in "y," I will be right there with you, be encouraged. All the other times that you DIDN'T lose your patience, God is developing your character. And God has heaps of grace to cover the time that you do lose it, and throw a small sparkly shoe across the room. </span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1r3JvI4jamCOTzfMPk9PbcMSS5StYpAsmPiCARdrmDjgau9GNbZoBKBD7h-VgYMfyLljkecZ62BKpLK_gcm-mQ2535TEH_Kkw1jdvDCCGDz2uMgmDlIzXguEXt_Dzr5YhKWDlWJVEike/s1600/IMG_0360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1r3JvI4jamCOTzfMPk9PbcMSS5StYpAsmPiCARdrmDjgau9GNbZoBKBD7h-VgYMfyLljkecZ62BKpLK_gcm-mQ2535TEH_Kkw1jdvDCCGDz2uMgmDlIzXguEXt_Dzr5YhKWDlWJVEike/s320/IMG_0360.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ellie with one of her red dress up shoes. The left shoe will show up around here some time or another. ;)</td></tr>
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-50266917589139270332013-08-27T20:59:00.001-07:002013-08-27T20:59:27.257-07:00Booby traps<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"Egad! Our house has been ransacked!!" </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This is what I want to exclaim, just about every time I walk in the door to our house. As a kid, I watched the movie, <i>Home Alone</i>, more times than I would like to admit. Boys especially seemed to love the painful booby traps that Kevin had cleverly devised for the robbers, Harry and Marv. They are classic slapstick moves, that I'm sure my sons will love to watch one day soon. If I can only find an old VHS tape player... Mother-in-law to the rescue!! :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Similar booby traps have been set in my very own home, though rather unintentionally. As you may have gathered, we now live on an Army post. Marine Corps friends around the world are now throwing up in their mouths- I have been trained to say "post" now, not "base," NOOOOO!!!!! ;) Anyway, while living on a military ... property, I often let my guard down a little more than I probably should. Thankfully, my confidence is reestablished, when I think about the pitfalls that surely would come to someone attempting to purposefully ransack my home.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here's what I imagine: </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Our family has left town for the weekend. Only the ol' Jeep Wagoneer is in the driveway. The disguised villain in black, quietly creeps along the side of the house. A hole, just the size of an adult man's foot, is camouflaged with grass (that maintenance has not seemed to fill, despite my polite request). As you can only imagine, the dastardly creeper sprains his ankle. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">While hobbling to the front door, cursing under his breath, he suddenly slips on small pool of motor oil in the driveway, leaked from the aforementioned vehicle. He then lands on his back, onto the scooter that was hidden, under the cover of darkness, on the sidewalk. In disbelief, he rolls onto his stomach, and he feels an object being rammed up his nose. The man reaches over to dislodge the Nerf bullet that has been painfully and unexpectedly shoved up his nose, for they are scattered around the grass. Nerf bullets, not noses, that is. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When he goes to stand up, his hand is planted into homemade play dough, that has been oddly smushed into the grass.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">After picking himself up once more, he swats away flies, swarming as he approaches the door, for they have been feasting on the leftover ice-cream puddles from a few days earlier, that a little curly hair child dropped onto the patio furniture. He sees smudges on the glass door, making it difficult to scope out the loot. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Taking a step into the house, he trips over the wooden train set, that a small child has left out, in the worst possible spot ever, which has miraculously become an ingenious place to foil a robber's evil plans. And yet, he is not stopped. He proceeds through the hallway, while stepping on corn chips, that have been scattered about on the wooden floors. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The kitchen seems to be the perfect room to hide, for he has heard an odd noise. Without looking, he leaps backwards, onto uncooked rice and beans, leftover from a play session that didn't quite get 100% cleaned up, after several attempts with the broom. Once again, he falls flat on his back, for the rice and beans concoction is slipperier than one would imagine. The dishes are overflowing in the sink, but he seems not to care. He leans over to peer around the corner, while bracing himself with his hand, onto a hot griddle. The screams are stifled once more. With eery shadows about him, he creeps on all fours, and his knees suddenly feel sharp pains as they bear down on crayons, artfully covering the floor.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">He presses on, determined to get to the bounty. He is thankful for the air mattress that is conveniently waiting for him, in the den. "A movie night," he speculates, for a few traces of popcorn kernels remain. While laying on crushed goldfish, he appreciates the short snooze before pressing on to the treasures that await him. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">He scopes out the flat screen TV, but realizes that there are too many smudges and scratches for a reasonable resale value. He decides it's not worth the effort. Approaching the stairs, he steps on numerous miniature air craft figurines, with unforgivable strength, penetrating into his feet. Up the stairs he goes, and decides to return to his childhood, reading a children's library book on the small carpeted platform area of the stairs. He ignores his reservations, which arose after observing that the carpets appear to have not been vacuumed in a few weeks. He picks up the book, <i>Flat Stanley at Bat.</i> Just the motivation he needs. A single rubber rain boot, he sees on the stairs, and this time he's not fooled. He avoids it, only to find a tiny toothbrush underfoot. His feet are throbbing by this point in his journey. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">At the top of the stairs, he decides to go left, taking a few steps into the vacant boys' room. He-Man figures are strewn about, making this, once more, an obstacle. He hears a noise. A squeak, and then a dash across the carpet. "A rat," he shrieks, only to find an innocent Teddy Bear Hamster, named Harry. After chasing the fur ball, he reaches out to pick up the adorable hamster, only to be bitten on his finger. He faints at the sight of his own blood.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When he comes to, he sees the image of a man in the corner of the room. And the bad man freezes in fear. Upon closer look, the face looks a lot like Ronald Reagan. He runs out of the room in fright, not knowing that a Reagan mask was simply on a star shaped wall hook near the kids' costumes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The babies room is next, with the noxious smell of dirty diapers wafting from under the door. He decides to skip this room. Wise choice. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Next the villain must squeeze around a very tall box that is blocking much of the hallway. "Moving day?," he ponders. He sees a room that must be the guest room. Piles of sheets and blankets haphazardly cover the floor. Nothing of value here. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">With one last attempt at a financial gain, he tries to go through the jewels in the master bedroom. He cannot, however, find the items of value, amidst all of the costume jewelry, feathers, and bows. Discouraged, he decides to flee. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Rushing back down the stairs, he runs out through the garage, catapulting himself into the air after running into a small tricycle that was at the foot of the door. He conveniently lands on a giant inflatable ball, much like a human hamster ball. He thanks God, though he had no belief in Him prior to this safe landing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In total shock, he tries to run out the side door, only to be blocked once again by a Rubbermaid tote. With an ultimate escape within his grasp, he passes the green trash bin, and he finally smells fresh air. He gazes upon the moon and stars. Freedom!!!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">The robber then realizes, what he should have realized all along: that this house had already been looted! Why else would this house be such a mess?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I wish I could tell you that all of these details were fabricated. However, if you come to my house right now, you will see that NONE of it is made up. Oh, except the evil villain. I pray that one is not lurking. This week, all of the above has existed, in some degree. Well, without all of the ensuing accidents, but the traps are there, nonetheless! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Most likely your house isn't this bad today. I always like to make up statistics, and my husband laughs. So, in the case, I would say, "I am sure that 95% of you don't have houses that resemble my messy house, to this extent."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But for the 5% that need a word of encouragement, I am your gal. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Remember that, no matter how overwhelmed you are with household duties, and keeping up with a tidy house, we all get overly behind at times! Or, for some of us, most of the time!! I think we are harder on ourselves for such matters, than anyone else is, on expecting perfection in our homes. My goal is that my friends and neighbors can come over, without me having to apologize for my mess. We all have a different standard of excellence!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My prayer is that the Lord will give us all peace, in knowing that we are loved, even if there are dishes in the sink or piles of laundry that need to be folded. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Zephaniah 3:17</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Isn't it amazing that the Lord delights in us, and rejoices over us, with singing! Even in the midst of our chaos. I love that imagery, of God singing over me. How humbling, that the Creator of heaven and earth takes delight in me. And, I am very grateful that he doesn't really care about all of my booby traps. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-23472175699430759522013-08-25T23:47:00.000-07:002013-08-25T23:47:02.047-07:00Procrastination Station <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Living on an Army post, there are a few perks. One being, that you are within walking distance of quite a few choice locations. When I am feeling naively optimistic, I pretend I'm a sherpa and load up two kids in my double jogger and one on my back, and we head to the Burger King for ice-cream cones for a mere 50 cents per cone. Sounds ridiculous, you say. Well, I am just that motivated to save that extra 50 cents per cone. Darn it. Ok, most of the time we just drive, but it paints a much better word picture. ;)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Another place where I can practice the gift of being bipedal is the commissary. For those civilians that are not sure what a commissary is, I will inform you. It is a military grocery store where you don't have to pay a sales tax and you can get some pretty sweet deals. However you do have to avoid pay day like the plague, and have cash on hand to give the bagger a tip, because you are informed on a very intimidating sign that, "Baggers work for tips." And you don't mess around with the baggers. They will remember you and hunt you down. Just kidding, but I always feel like a terrible person unless I have some cash on hand. The sequestration may take our Tuesday commissary hours, but they will not take our freedom!!! (I picture myself with Braveheart paint, leading us into battle.) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Who has two thumbs and can walk to the library? This girl. Who has two thumbs and waited until the summer had totally passed to perform the aforementioned task? Again- this girl. All summer I thought, "Self, it would be a good idea for you to investigate, explore, and discover the library on post. For it shall be a treasure trove of books, with the potential to travel the world. In your mind." Well, I wish I would have been telling myself that, because maybe I would have actually carpe diem-ed my way over there. Instead, while the bright and disciplined children were getting their read on, my wild men were smashing water balloons over their heads, and making their water balloons pee, as the kids on the street like to say. These are equally important skills, are they not? This is not an exaggeration, for you will see the evidence of a summer of water balloons in our front porch mulch, despite my constant instructions for all the cul de sac kids to pick them up after they pop them. Or make them pee. But alas, we finally made our way to the library, this past Friday. Jack has a reading check off list, and I thought we should get ahead of the curve. As soon as I walked in and saw the majestic children's reading area, I was kicking myself. How could I have waited nearly four months to enlighten my children into the world of reading? (Don't judge, we read <i>Good Night Moon</i>, and <i>The Jesus Story Book Bible</i> on a nightly basis.) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As I may have mentioned in an earlier post, I am quite the procrastinator. To be fair, I either do something immediately, or I wait. A very, very long time. Maybe I feel like I have lost my momentum to do whatever task that I need to complete, and then I dread getting the ball rolling again. Whenever I do this, I always create this huge, impossible hill that I have to climb. Figuratively, of course. It looks quite daunting and scary. Walking to the library, scary? You do have to cross the road, and that happens to be a childhood fear of mine that I have since gotten over. Without therapy, mind you. Look both ways before crossing the street. I had to say it... As soon as I do whatever thing it is, I usually find that it was way easier than I thought it would be. Then I ALWAYS think, "Why in the world did I wait so long to do that?" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Here's another example in my procrastination station. Not sure what that means, but I like it. About two years ago, I started a wreath, gluing some felt flowers all around it. I didn't love my color choices, and so I just let it go for a while. I finally decided to give it a face lift for Independence Day that was coming up in a few months. As you can guess,I waited til the day AFTER the fourth of July to complete my totally awesome red, white and blue, with fancy gold buttons wreath for our front door. Again, we live on base. Score: I'm now patriotic 365 days a year. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">A very wise man once said, "No matter what you are doing, you are procrastinating something else." I happened to be married to that scholar who created that principle. Something struck a chord with me when thinking about his out of the box theory. There are two types of procrastinators. There is the "good kind," and the "bad kind." If you have boys, you know that there are good guys and bad guys. Very similar. We all know what bad procrastinators looks like. There of those of us who wait to make a dentist appointment until 15 months since our last visit. At least I flossed, does that count? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Then we often don't change the oil until we are 1000 miles overdue, or we even realize that we haven't sent our best friend a birthday card, and it was her birthday. Yesterday. Ugh. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So, what in the world does a good procrastinator look like? You have most likely heard the story about the professor and the jar of rocks. In short, he fills a jar with fairly large rocks, and asks if the jar is full. The students say, "Yes." He then fills the same "full" jar with pebbles, then sand, then water, asking each time if the jar is full. It is finally "full" when all of the empty space is gone. The moral of the story, is that you have to put the "big rocks" in first in order to get them in at all. The big rocks represent what you value, like God, your spouse, your children, your family and close friends. Then come the pebbles that matter to you, but not as much, such as your job, your house, your possessions. Then the sand, and the water, each with diminishing value. That's a fairly common concept, but I believe the analogy of the rocks can apply to procrastination as well. We often procrastinate putting in the big rocks, while often frantically putting in the pebbles. And we often don't recognize it is even happening. The pebbles are important, such as maintaining household duties, rushing kids around to practices, or doing an extra hour on the elliptical. But when we do these things time and time again, we often fill up the jar, without first putting in the big rocks. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">When's the last time you had a date night? Trusting a babysitter with your precious children is huge, but I'm sure there is a trustworthy someone in your inner circle that is willing to watch them, even for a few hours, so you can reconnect with your spouse. Can't afford to pay someone? Maybe you can create a babysitting co-op. You may have to gird up your loins once a month with some crazy kiddos, but then you have three date nights in a month. Bam. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Have you made time to fellowship with other believers? I know I am guilty of this, where I thought it was just too much work to get plugged into a small group at our church. I paid for this dearly, as my very small circle of friends who were graciously there in my time of greatest need, became tapped out while trying to help me, even if they would never, ever admit it. Sometimes you just need a deeper bench in the hardest of times. This is not only for yourself, but it is for you to be a blessing to others! I can still name the people who made meals for our family, with my three babies. I bet you can too. Such a simple thing, but such an enormous blessing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Have you listened to God's calling for your life lately? He may be speaking to you in a still small voice, but are you too distracted to hear it? I know I am often on Facebook and I don't realize how the time has just been sucked away. Never to return again. I know, this is like the TV commercials for kids where they say, "Get outside and play! Stop watching this stinky ol' TV and get some fresh air." It's true: electronic media can be a source of good, or evil. We just have to be careful how we spend our time, and how it is affecting our family. I know that my kids will often request for me to play with them, or read them a story (see?! ;)) and I get so distracted with my phone, that I don't even hear their plea until the third time. Yikes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My point isn't to guilt trip you about how you or I spend our time, but to motivate us to remember the big rocks first, and procrastinate on the small ones. Enriching the most important relationships in your life, whether that is God, your spouse, or your children, is definitely a good thing. Or a new thing. </span><br />
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<span class="text Isa-43-18" id="en-NIV-18524" style="position: relative;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">18 </sup>Isaiah 43: 18-19 says,</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Isa-43-18" style="position: relative;">“Forget the former things;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18524BI" title="See cross-reference BI">BI</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-18" style="position: relative;">do not dwell on the past.</span></span><br /><span class="text Isa-43-19" id="en-NIV-18525" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; line-height: normal; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">19 </sup>See, I am doing a new thing!<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18525BJ" title="See cross-reference BJ">BJ</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-19" style="position: relative;">Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?</span></span><br /><span class="text Isa-43-19" style="position: relative;">I am making a way in the wilderness<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18525BK" title="See cross-reference BK">BK</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-19" style="position: relative;">and streams in the wasteland.</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Isa-43-19" style="position: relative;">My prayer is that we would put all fears aside, to do that new thing. We have procrastinated long enough, and we will realize that once we finally do what we have been called to do, it wasn't so bad after all. </span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Isa-43-19" style="position: relative;">I know because you are reading this! :) </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-59555263106903031212013-08-20T23:37:00.001-07:002013-08-20T23:37:18.850-07:00Semper Gumby: Always flexible <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As August is coming to a close, it is a bittersweet time. I love the adventures of the summer, with no agenda, except to make sure my toddler has a nap sometime after lunch. Being the, "Type B" mother that I am, I can easily flex around another mom's schedule. When I get a last minute text to join a friend and her kiddos at the children's museum, I am usually game. As long as we have a double stroller, a few snacks, some wipes and a clean diaper, we are good to go. I can always use my field expediency for other child related "emergencies" such as going to lunch with no bib. Just grab a dirty kid's shirt from the car, that was shoved under the seat, and slap it over the babies head, and I am golden. As a Marine wife, I have learned to overcome and adapt! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My semper gumby ways end tomorrow, when I have to wake up to the sound of my iPhone blurting out some kind of emergency signal that the plant, aka, my bed, is about to self destruct. I recently heard a psychologist who believes that people are not truly morning people, or night people. He says we just shift our waking hours towards the morning, or the evening, and this is adaptable for each person. If that's the case, I am stuck on repeat, in the position of a more alert evening time. (It is now 1:44 in the a.m. for those wondering.) After nearly 34 years, one would think my brain would be more adaptable. Ka sera sera.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I wish that I could say that I meticulously plan my early mornings, and follow through accordingly. I have aspirations of joyfully pressing that magical button on the Keurig machine that effortlessly dispenses an aromatic cuppa joe, before 7 am. Then I would start my quiet time, without the pitter patter of little feet down the stairs, or the sweet, yet demanding requests for chocolate milk. Oh yes, I would read my devotions with a fervent prayer time, followed by a brilliant performance of holding a child's pose and downward dog, only to catapult myself onto the treadmill to run a 5K. While wearing a tiara. Well, I have a very active REM state while I sleep soundly in my Sleep Number bed, set at a cozy number of 35, and so I am sure I can accomplish the very same tasks, only in my mind. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My reality check comes tomorrow morning, bright and early, with the birds chirping, and a song in my heart. Looking towards the days that lie ahead, I can see how this is a good thing. I often get complacent in my meandering ways, and then I do not act unless something is planned. Ahead of time. Guess what... there are now things planned and time tables to keep, every Monday through Friday, at the very least. This seems quite selfish of me, and how this will all affect me, and my precious slumber. And so, I will move on. (Down with selfishness, boo, hiss!)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Opportunities for learning, friendship, and character building await my kindergartener. I am supposed to be weepy that my oldest is officially starting school for the very first time in his 5 years on this earth. However, my crying bone is often broken, until it's not, then you have to watch out. Give me about two weeks, and we can talk, and cry (I think).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I am excited to see how the Lord will begin to secure my son's foundations, that we have begun at home. Despite my best efforts, I can not teach my child to read, and so I look forward to watching him bloom under the tutelage of another more learned (pronounced learn...ed ;)) and wise scholar, such as his new teacher. No more scenarios of, "How do you spell rock, my dear?" "R-O-K. I'm outta here!", skipping off to ride his scooter.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My son is brilliant in many areas, but stubborn when it comes to learning certain subjects. And he doesn't happen to especially enjoy learning from his matriarch or patriarch in the areas of reading, writing, and arithmetic. (Home schooling moms' gasps, heard 'round the world.) Just kidding, I love all of you super talented women, wearing so many hats. I just wish I could be you. Or temporarily become a tee tiny wood nymph to observe how the skilled transfer of knowledge really occurs, so that I too, one day, maybe, should I ever become very, very brave or very, very foolish, may learn the tricks of the trade, with the trade being home schooling... On a side note, the book about the 100 top picks for home schooling curriculums- need I say more? 100? Really? That's narrowing it down?! Really? "Oh, silly Rachel," you kindly say. Well, I suppose thou shalt counsel me later, me thinks. (Insert Irish accent, for my mother will not accept incorrect grammar. And my high school English teacher is my Facebook friend. Hi, Mrs. Williams.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">As we begin to the smell the bouquet of newly sharpened pencils (I love Meg Ryan), this week, may we continue to find the precious moments we had in the summer to share the treasure of biblical principles with our kids. So mama, even if you didn't get to do that in the last three months, now is the time to start! I have found that while driving in the car, during the rare, yet precious moments where everyone is quiet (thank you, God!) I have an attentive audience. They are stuck in their seats, and ready to listen. Well, at least Jack, who's my eldest child. (I would now like to ask you to turn off all electronic devices. Thank you.) You can observe together, as you navigate, the beauty in the trees above and around you, and how God made each one for our enjoyment. There are so many love letters to us in nature, that it's impossible not to notice them, when we lift our eyes to the heavens, and off of our smart phones. Ouch, I know, me too. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Kids love it when we are honest with them, sharing our faults from the day, and how we need to be more patient with them, and how we can try as a family to treat one another with love and grace. The time may only last a minute, but it will last for eternity, if we don't let the time slip away without a word of wisdom that God can supernaturally share with you, at exactly the time you need it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You most likely know this verse, from the KJV Bible, but this is a different angle: Proverbs 22:6 (The Message)- Point your kids in the right direction- when they're old they won't be lost. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Almost all of us have a GPS in our pockets, that we use daily. As we are pointed in the right direction with this tool, we too can point our kids in the direction of Christ, so that their faith may stick, and they will know where they are in their walk with Christ. Despite our best efforts, there is no "guarantee" that our children will adopt this Christian faith as their own, but it is our calling to usher our children to His feet. We can live our faith, speak of our faith, and pray for their faith for today, and the future. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Matthew 19:13-14</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Matt-19-13"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">13 </sup>Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23776K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup> and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Matt-19-14" id="en-NIV-23777"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">14 </sup>Jesus said, <span class="woj">“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23777L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> to such as these.”<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23777M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup></span></span> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">In the 2013 school year, let us remember to make every moment with our children count, whether they are educated at home, or in the traditional classroom. God allows us to borrow these children from Him for a season, and it is our honor to share our faith with them. Even if we can't sleep in til 8 am anymore. :)</span><br />
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<br />Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265041290200362797.post-91675236414116936322013-08-19T22:56:00.002-07:002013-08-19T22:56:32.558-07:00Grace Bending <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Pour yourself a spot of tea with a spoonful of sugar, and find a cozy chair. Ok, let's be honest- you are reading this on your phone, as the kids cry in the background. And you can't remember the last time that you could sit with your girlfriends, uninterrupted, with a hot drink. Coffee is most likely on a survival only basis. And if you are like me, it's often cold, after serving the children their breakfast, and you finally remember that you are a human too, an hour later. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I usually have a running dialogue in my head, of the funny things that have been going on with my messy, unorganized home and my delightfully busy children. Every day, I am amazed at the way that God somehow teaches me something through it all, after the tears have dried (mine that is), and they are snuggled in their beds. Or in my bed. Or the guest bed. Or whatever bed agreed upon that caused the least amount of crying (this time, said child). I have thought, "Oh, you should be writing this down, and sharing your mess with the other moms who are in the same boat, so they can feel that their bit of crazy is somehow, 'normal,' too." This is now six procrastinating years later. I have had every intention to start on this verbal journey, however life has a funny way of moving on, day after day, when you don't take initiative. I guess I should have been reading my Nike shoe box, so I would have known to, "Just do it," years ago! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Someone, at some time, has said you should write about what you know. I know that because I read it. In a book. Just kidding, I'll have to google it, but I know I have heard that at one time or another. (Wait for it, wait for it...Googled it.) Apparently, that saying refers to writing about the emotions you have experienced, not just about the events. Perfect. I shall try to cover both in my humble, yet honest, (maybe too honest) writings with this blog. I shall start randomly, for, if you know me, that is what I do best.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">It's amazing how as soon as you take the time to unload the dishwasher, there is a load that is waiting to be loaded right after it? Then it looks like you have done nothing in the dishwashing department that day, but you and Dawn know the truth, that you have stood at the sink half the day (or so it seems). No, you really have. I have not quite figured out why I am so disabled in the area of housekeeping. I struggle accomplishing these daily tasks in a timely fashion. I am not simply sitting around all day doing my latest Pinterest inspired project, as my children play peacefully with wooden trains, while sitting at my feet. Unfortunately, it's more like one child is attempting to hold onto one of my legs, while screaming, "Hold you!", as I struggle to drain the boiling water with the spaghetti noodles, without scalding a tiny human. And the other two are quietly drawing... on the walls with their favorite crayon colors. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Over the years as a mother, I have gone through many stages of mommy comparisons. Social media has become an avenue for women, including myself, to see the highlight reels of another mother, for them only to be compared to the bloopers of her own life. We then believe lies that have been created in our own minds that we are not good enough, and do not measure up. Can I get a witness?! ;) I always wanted to say that... It was easy for me to think, "How in the world am I the only mom in my peer group, that doesn't have her act together?!" I knew I was much more sane than the moms out there that allow their young children to go on the subway alone in New York City, without a cell phone. Hello, that was a no brainer. And if you are that mom, God loves you too, now go get your kids. But, it was difficult for me to not beat myself up mentally, for being, "That mom." Oh, you know, the one who looks like she is having a yard sale every day, since there are so many colorful ride on toys, strewn about the grass. And on Saturdays, passersby, stop and get out of their cars, to investigate this wonderful garage sale, that is actually, just my husband attempting to organize the bagillion toys we have. <I do not know how many a bagillion is, but I am assuming it is a lot.> The mom who has those cute sippy cup labels for their kids, only she had to use a Sharpie marker to draw a line through the eldest child's name, to make room for the younger child who needs a labeled cup, stat, because it's time for church. The mom who has ketchup, straws, and a rotting apple in her diaper bag, and she discovers this after she gets home from an event requiring child care. (Hope they didn't find that apple, whoops.) "That mom," who doesn't bring a teddy to their child's pre school, teddy bear picnic, because, she often forgets to read her email, and she secretly thinks that if she doesn't check it, then no important emails will be sent to her. You get the picture. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Since they say that, "Honesty is the best policy," I will admit that I have done all of the aforementioned things. Yep, all of those, don't laugh. I can hear you laughing. ;) And so I have often labeled myself, "That mom." Those that are not, "That mom," have most likely noticed my, "That momness." Of course, I can not say that I know what other moms have done with that little observation. Whether it's a nice pat on their own back for not being a hot mess, or maybe a verbal, "Bless her little heart," to the closest mama around. I used to care. But, the longer I have been a mother, I do not as much. I have learned to love and embrace my quirks. Well, most of them. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">With time, I have learned to appreciate the fact that I am not the mom who orders their children's Fourth of July outfits with their names monogrammed on them the day after Valentines' Day. I am not the mom who has documented every tooth that has popped through my child's mouth, with a picture to prove it. Nor am I the organized mom, who has every minute of every day ending in, "y" planned on her calendar. And that's ok. For the moms who do those things, that's ok too. God made us all unique. It's easy for both camps to point fingers that the other one is doing it all "wrong," but honestly, we are all doing our personal bests, whatever that may look like. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> <span class="text Jas-4-6" id="en-NIV-30344"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">6 </sup>But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Jas-4-6" style="position: relative;">“God opposes the proud </span>but shows favor to the humble.”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Jas-4-7" id="en-NIV-30345"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">7 </sup>Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil,<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30345L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> and he will flee from you.</span> <span class="text Jas-4-8" id="en-NIV-30346"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>Come near to God and he will come near to you.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30346M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup>Wash your hands,<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30346N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup> you sinners, and purify your hearts,<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30346O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup> you double-minded.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30346P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Jas-4-9" id="en-NIV-30347"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30347Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="text Jas-4-10" id="en-NIV-30348"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30348R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span class="text Jas-4-11" id="en-NIV-30349"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">11 </sup>Brothers and sisters, do not slander one another.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30349S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup> Anyone who speaks against a brother or sister<sup class="footnote" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-30349d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James+4&version=NIV#fen-NIV-30349d" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote d">d</a>]</sup> or judges them<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30349T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup> speaks against the law<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30349U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup> and judges it. When you judge the law, you are not keeping it,<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30349V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup> but sitting in judgment on it.</span> <span class="text Jas-4-12" id="en-NIV-30350"><sup class="versenum" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">12 </sup>There is only one Lawgiver and Judge,<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30350W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup> the one who is able to save and destroy.<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30350X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup> But you—who are you to judge your neighbor?<sup class="crossreference" style="line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30350Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Jas-4-12" id="en-NIV-30350"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">--My challenge is for us, as moms, to do some grace bending. As Christ has shown us the utmost example of grace, we too, can give other mothers grace. Instead of judgement, we can offer encouragement. When you see a fellow mom in the grocery store, who is wrangling her wild brood, and you happen to be without kids for once in 3 months, than it's the perfect opportunity to share a quick word to lift her spirits, and let her know that she is not alone in the "battle!" It's easy for us to sit back, and judge the moms who are less involved, but there may be more going on than we know, whether it's miscarriage, postpartum depression, or marital challenges. Think of the times that you have been in desperate need of a friend. Do you have a time where you were once shown grace, and what an encouragement it was? Remember this blessing, and may it motivate you to bend grace her way. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="text Jas-4-12"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Opportunities for grace bending happen multiple times a day, if we would only stop just long enough to look for them, and act.I challenge you to pray that God will change your heart and open your eyes to the needs of others, so that you might see the ways you can minister to other moms, even in the midst of your own chaos. All moms are in need of a friend, and you may just meet, your fellow, "That mom," if you step out in faith, and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">bend grace her way! </span></span></div>
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Rachel Wentlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14527725077171125936noreply@blogger.com2