Blue Light Special

I come by this rightly, you know...my fondness for shopping. For clothes, for discounts.   My late Aunt Pat who I loved and miss dearly was a discount fashionista and an awesome bargain hunter.   One of her faves was the K-Mart Blue Light Special.   When my mom, us kids, Aunt Patty, & her girls went to the K-Mart it was bound to be special,  Blue Light Special.   
The announcement would carry across the fluorescent glow of the store and depending on where we were located it was either loud and clear,  or distant and faint.   Didn't matter though, all we needed to do was look up and find a path to the flashing blue light and undoubtedly we'd go home with something great at a significantly marked down price tag.

My last post was the official jumping off point (albeit 2 months in) to the 
No New Duds. 365 Lessons in Contentment challenge. 

Around January 1, I knew I would be committing to this.  But,  before the famine I had to (thought I had to) sneak in one last feast.  I suggested to my kids that we should go to Target and they could use their Christmas gift cards to find some post holiday bargains.  While they were there scouring the toys and electronics, I was drawn as if by magnetic force to the colorful, brightly orange stickered women's clothing clearance!   I picked through the racks with anticipation.  I was confident I would leave there with some trendy delight for a cool 30-50 percent off.   My own Orange Sticker Special!

I found a dress and two cardigan sweaters that day.  Sweetening the deal was an extra 5 percent off if I used my Target RedCard.   I did.

My eldest son was with me that trip and I told him,  before he had the chance to ask...
"I am starting the no new clothes thing on Monday, January 5 when you go back to school.  That's when Christmas break is done,  that's when real life resumes".  
Could he smell the rationalization?   He did.  

As you can see,  I was a bit squirrelly at first,  I hope to get stronger.
  
One of the biggest reasons I have ended up with excess clothing is because me, myself and I (not my mom or my beloved Aunt) have bought into the idea that if it's a "good deal" or a "sale price" I then have full license to purchase it.  Even if I don't truly need it,  even if I have something similar but in a slightly different hue, even if I don't have the cash on hand.   
It feels better and more successful going home with something, than without. 

It's a mindset I'll need to crack open as this challenge takes shape.  

I look back on those days at K-Mart in the1980s as warm memories.   Not because of the stuff we purchased, because I cannot remember a single item,  but because of the time spent together.   Shopping can be about that too.   But, that's a post for a different day.

Good night!

 

To Be Clothed in Contentment.

Three years ago I read a book penned by author/speaker Jen Hatmaker titled: 

7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.

For many a reason of which I won't go into today (check the link, or just read the book), Jen embarked on a 7 month journey.  In the spirit of a fast she committed to each of the experiments  listed below. 

Only seven foods for a month. 

Only seven pieces of clothes for a month. 

Give away seven things we own a day for a month. 

Eliminate seven forms of media for a month. 

Adopt seven substantial habits for a greener life.

Spend money in only seven places. 

Practice "seven sacred pauses" a day

In her words, "a deeply reduced life to find a greatly increased God" 

I should mention that I read this book while on a 7-day 15th anniversary cruise with my husband.  Oh, the irony was rich as we sailed the seas in that mammoth vessel where excess was celebrated, expected and blissfully enjoyed.   Naturally, we had a great time on that vacation but the 7 book really captured my thoughts.  All gussied up in our new duds we feasted on a 5-course (of course) dinner where I shared with Dan all the ways this book had challenged me.   He graciously listened and curiously smiled at my new passion and plans for simplifying our lives upon returning home.    He knowingly nodded his head up and down and then proceeded to order three desserts.  

You guessed it.  I didn't change a thing.  The book went on the shelf and I hit the nearest Target.

Many months zipped by, yet the quiet, muddled corner of my heart that wanted to apply what God was teaching me since reading the 7 book became louder and clearer.

Last Autumn my sister mentioned that a couple years back she and her good friend decided to embark on a challenge to purchase no new clothing for a year.  I vaguely remember this.  I think I heard about it,  dismissed it,  and felt satisfied that I "didn't have to do something like that." 

They had their rationale, rules and from what I understand they stuck it out.    As Stacey reminded me of this,  I was suddenly pricked with the memory of the 7 book and how fired up I was at the time about addressing my main area of excess:  CLOTHING.  

Then came the holidays.   And I needed a new outfit(s).

What really swung my pendulum was an experience I had right after this new year.    I invited my sister-in-law over to browse through my closet for a dress to wear to a wedding she was attending.    I love to share my clothes so I happily and pridefully brought out dress,  after dress, after dress, after dress, 

after dress, 

after dress,

after dress.

She was gracious but clearly surprised and somewhat shocked at all the offerings.  

It was then that I realized it was time ~~insert shudder here~~ to make a New Year's Resolution.  

It was then that I knew I needed to -- for once,  actually challenge myself.

PURCHASE NO NEW CLOTHING FOR 365 DAYS

In January I loitered around fully committing and just tested the waters a bit.   I tried out what it might feel like to withhold from buying clothes whenever it fancied me.   Meanwhile, I secretly hoped this trial period would be my window to screw up,  buy a pair of boots and coyly say "Oh, well.  It was fun (#notfun) while it lasted... get.out.of.my.face.I.am.going.to.TJMaxx."

Friends, it's almost March, me thinks it's time to fully commit.   

It's not just the mass quantity of clothing I have that sparked this experiment.  Too many dresses is just the presenting problem. And hear me when I say,  it's not a stretch to say this is a problem.  I just counted 39 sleeveless tank tops in my drawer.

What's the problem behind the problem?    From where must change originate?   Why do I feel called to this? 

These are some of the things I hope to explore and learn in the midst of this experiment.  Here at the blog I'll talk about this challenge along the way as a means of accountability and learning.    It's been 8 weeks and I already have a few stories to share.     More on those cheater boots later.

Here goes nothing.    As in I have nothing to wear.  really.  14 skirts can't possibly get me though the summer!!??

Guidelines:

**No NEW clothing purchased by myself for myself.   My sis said that during her challenge Thrift Store items were acceptable to buy when and only if there was a need.   Add to that - at time of purchase a clothing donation to said thrift store is mandatory.    I am still wondering about this.   Is it just a loophole?     I'm afraid if I allow myself this,   I'll be scouring Goodwill every week for something just SOMETHING FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, to buy.

**Gifts can be accepted but not begged for.    (Praises be for my upcoming birthday!)

**Get creative with the clothing items I already have

**Continue to clean out my closet and downsize.   Find the things that fit well,  have longevity in condition and style.   Eliminate the things I don't intend to or rarely wear.  Stick with the old trustys.

**Pray for resolve and sticktoitiveness with this challenge.  Petition God to teach me through this, even as it may just seem like a silly venture.

** ^{Matthew 6:28-30  28} “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. ²⁹ Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ³⁰ If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?

Stay Tuned.  Or , maybe even join me?

Ham on Buns.

Sometimes I'm so oddly conscious of things that some folks might not give a first thought to... much less a second thought or a 15th thought.   Often, it bugs me that I'm this way.  Sometimes it's exactly how I grow...

My first unsettled experience with ham-on-buns came about 17 years ago.

Wait.   Ham-on-buns, you (did or did not) ask?

In the mid-western,  religious, Dutch influenced culture where I've grown up, life events most always involve food.   Okay,  food at life events aren't just ritual in our little corner,  but ham-on-buns may just be.   As my life has been filled with weddings, baptisms, graduations, and funerals-- often included like part of the family is the tray of lunch meat on buttered rolls (buns) and starchy side dishes.   
Ham-on-buns.  It's what's for dinner. 

Okay, back to the story. 

I was 20 and my paternal grandmother had passed away. Following the funeral service I watched my male cousins carry and lift the casket gently into the hearse.   

A touching moment. 

Witnessing my older, tall  and normally jovial cousins visibly and audibly emotional was uncomfortable.   
And sad.  
And good.   But it didn't last long.   
I sensed there was but a brief window for that kind of emotional let go, as moments later we were being quietly instructed to go to the basement for lunch. 

"What!??"  I thought.   "How am I supposed to feel this kind of sorrow one minute and indifferently slather mayo on a sandwich, the next?" 

No way.

I'd dare to assume at this point most normal people would be anxious to move things along.  Grief is not an enjoyable state,  eating lunch is.  But as I sat there staring at the foam plate and bakery bun,  I was somber and silent.    17 years ago, I found absolutely no value in the post funeral luncheon.  

And then we went home.

Early this spring my paternal grandfather (Gramps) entered his eternal home and many of the same scenes and faces from Grandma's funeral were present at his.  It was, in part a thankful celebration.  Of the life he lived and loved,  and of God's faithfulness to our ever growing family-- of Jesus' redemption in Grandpa's life. 

  

All of the great times,  the painful times,  the strong as well as strained relationships were brought to the first five rows of church pews that morning.  We lifted our voices in "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" and it will go down as one of the most precious moments of my life.  

Following the service and recessional I felt the now familiar inner struggle welling up.  Slip away and grieve, or line up for ham?   I hugged my Dad, my husband, my brother.  I could have stayed there all day.   Then from the corner of my eye I saw my eldest daughter embrace my mom and begin to weep.  I know she loved Great-Gramps but I wasn't sure how her first funeral experience would effect her.  I talked with her quietly and realized something.   These sad feelings were difficult for her and as glad as I was that she could express them,  she might also learn from the upcoming hour.  

So, just like the well meaning white-haired ladies at Grandma's funeral 17 years prior, I asked my girl,

"How about we go and eat lunch, does that sound good?" 
It did.

We walked to the other side of the church and what began with- quiet tones of wiping tears and blowing noses beautifully transitioned into smiles,
and memories--
and breaking bread together.  

I had finally found value in the ritual. 

 

A large (but not the whole) part of the family poses for a photo 

following the --much to my delight-- Ham-on...croissants!

It was Sadness and Celebration.
Pain, still Praise.
Death, yet Victory!

Joy and sorrow are often intermingled into the ways and the days of this life.  

What is your only comfort
in life and in death? 

That I am not my own,
but belong—

body and soul,
in life and in death—

to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.
He also watches over me in such a way
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven;
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him,
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.

 

The Heidelberg Catechism above says "all things"

I desire to be a person who can see the big picture, have that keen awareness of all the gifts and all the grace surrounding life's circumstances.   

In the great moments and especially in the hard times be less bogged down with fickle feelings and more attuned to what The Lord wants me to see and learn. 

It's not easy. 
Just about anything can fog our senses.    
But by the same token,  just about anything can be used to teach us.  

Even a ham sandwich.

when winter came.

(Photo from our back yard one rare day 
when the sun broke through)

It's been a winter for the record books where we live.  Snow upon snow upon snow that we push into piles and create pathways to go where we gots to git.   (sorry for the poor grammar- but I'm not a professional writer, so I can get away with it!)   We deal with winter's blow and look forward to brighter days when the sea of white will dissipate,  because we know it will.  As long as the earth endures, seasons change.  It's a promise.    

As we wait for the literal winter to secede there is a figurative winter that our family is waiting through.
May I share a little more about it?

First though,  a little background from my childhood...


When we heard the back door open,  we'd come running.

Barbie dolls,  Legos, dress up clothes all left in the dust when we realized our Daddy was home from work!  

It was like an amusement park ride how he could lift up all three of us at once and tote us around.  Did he have super human strength?  I'm sure I thought he did.  I was wee and he was mighty!

Day to day experiences like that among many others throughout my childhood sealed for me the impression that my Dad was amazing, invincible and unlike no other.    I am grateful for this.

Our Dad's mild stroke just after the new year took us all by surprise.  Over the last months many have expressed to me how Dad is so healthy, strong & fit and didn't seem likely for such a health crisis.   Initially,  I shared those sentiments as facts because as far as a 61 year old goes,  he is active,  full of vim and vigor.  Not living a sedentary lifestyle and responsibly monitoring his health status,  I always assumed from a medical standpoint Dad was better than the average.  As his doctor could attest,  that was a fair assumption.

But what was really happening for me was something less factual and more emotional.  (I know, imagine that?)  It didn't matter to me that he didn't fit the typical risk factors for stroke or not--yet suffered one anyway.   In my heart he wasn't supposed to have a stroke because he was the Super Human father that lifted me up both physically as a child and in every other way since childhood.  

(Photo courtesy of Footstock Barefoot Tournament) 

It was the first time I would come to the awareness that our Dad is in fact,  super! Yet also... human.  

I know,  rather a late realization.   But an important one.    Although an uneasy understanding for me that my Dad wasn't invincible after all,  I began to see Dad as God's child!   In unique and powerful ways our Heavenly Father carries His children through seasons of winter in our lives.   As the weeks went by this was very true for Dad.   You see,  a super hero wouldn't admit weakness or see the need for help.    In Dad's humble humanity he worked hard at regaining strength.  He wasn't too manly or macho to take a break from work,  or even driving for that matter.    I smiled often in the dead of this very long winter as Mom escorted Dad everywhere for awhile. They really are two peas in a pod.   I'm inspired by and have learned so much from them through this experience.

As our Heavenly father strengthened Dad's health and resolve following the stroke,   He also strengthens my heart against worry and fear.   We experienced again the gifts bestowed though community,  His Word,  hugs,  prayer,  & conversations.   God blesses, even through hardship and unresolved outcomes.  He doesn't let us go!   In His strength we are lifted and carried around when we run to him.   I like to picture it in much the same way my Daddy lifted me as a youngster.

Dad's prognosis is good, yet still-- we  wait.   For winter to melt away and for the possibility of Dad's vision to return full and clear...  for spring to arrive.   

But,  we wait with hope,  we hope with faith.  We are always held,  no matter what.   No human,  not even the biggest, strongest, wealthiest, hero you know can offer this kind of assurance when the winter comes.    
Only The Lord Almighty, 
as we humble ourselves before Him.

Run to Him! 

Song of Songs 2:11-13

New International Version (NIV)

11 See! The winter is past;
    the rains are over and gone.
12 Flowers appear on the earth;
    the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
    is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree forms its early fruit;
    the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
    my beautiful one, come with me.”

Birthday Buddies

On this date in history 10 years ago and 38 years ago,  two mothers labored for their firstborn daughters.

In this true story, the two mothers are mother and daughter.  Have I lost you yet?

It's one of my life's greatest gifts and a fabulous fun fact that our daughter Joy was born on my 28th Birthday,  10 years ago today,  March 1.

 Last night,  instead of a hospital room where I found myself 10 years prior I looked across a hotel room where my girl was fast asleep.    For this duel birthday we took a brief girls getaway and it was so so good.   As I watched her browse the racks at the thrift store,  order a grilled cheese for supper,  find her birthday gift (a Go-Go Pillow) on clearance,  and swim with glee in the hotel pool,  I sense we are nearing the end of an era.     I feel it like a tightening in my chest,  the future.   This care-free soul will in the years to come find challenge,  disappointment,  heartache--just all the things about being a teen.

I wonder if I used the last 10 years wisely.
Have I taught by word and deed and by the Word?
Have her father and I planted the seeds that will grow into healthy self-esteem and confidence?
Will she ease into the changes that await or clumsily stumble through?
Does she know,  Does she know of God's goodness and grace?

and then I see her ways..
she leads,  she nurtures,  she's brave,  she's fiery,  she's persistent,  she's expressive,  she creates,  she thinks,  she's independent,  she questions,  she serves,  she loves.

Little pieces of her fallible parents
and
Large works of a great God,  and He is only just beginning.

Undoubtedly,  the next decade will pass as quickly as her first,  so milestones (like reaching Double Digits) compel me to celebrate and reflect.    Perhaps I over-think at times,  but it nearly always brings me to the same place...

Thankfulness.

Hope.

Joy.

Her name befits her.  

I rejoice in life today- past, present and future!

of pride, humility, irony, grace. just all of it.

It's kind of a family joke that us Hopkins have a good sized egos.    We like to call it a healthy self confidence... perhaps too healthy.   Is that possible?

Yes.

When your ego (or mine in this case) gets too confident it quickly and lastingly turns into pride.
Isn't that one of the seven deadly sins?

Yes.

I think over the last year I've let pride get a strong grip on me.
From my view I was managing life pretty well.

5 kids?--  I've got this.
Husband working a lot?-- not a problem,   I'm used to it.
Meaningful service at church?  -- check.
Social life?-- blessing upon blessing.
Healthy grieving following the loss of our baby April?  -- Thank you, Lord.  Yes.

When things are calm and life steadily rolls,  pride sneaks in.   I begin to think that every move I make,  every word I speak is all good,   all right,  all according to God's plan.

I wholeheartedly believe that truth,  that of God's sovereign will,  His plan,  His purpose.   Each high and low and middle ground I experience is part of this.

Here's the thing,  though.  God created me with free will.  So when I make mistakes,  or let's call them what they often are -- Sin,  that is on me.

After hurting a long time friend last year through a series of prideful actions I am learning just how hidden my ego and pride are to me.   This has caused me to be largely silent here at the blog but also because I started to think that writing here seemed like a big fat brag and I needed to shut-up.   
 
Here are MY thoughts...

Hey - check out MY kids!!
Look how I have MY life put together.

I wondered if this blog, much like Facebook is only another avenue for self promotion and it made me uneasy.  Not because I am a private person (I'm not) but because who in the world am I to say anything at all?

I often have a skewed attitude and no perspective
I make judgements.  On people,  situations,  and anything else I can form an opinion about. 
I consider myself responsible to change others,  outcomes,  and situations.

It all reeks of pride.
Could I be more fallible? 

Yes.  Here's how...

As I read more teachings on humility and pride  I see the irony and twisted humility I possess to even write about this struggle.    Knowing this,  should I never introspect?   Perhaps I should just shut down the blog and deactivate my Facebook.    I'm not clear yet what God is calling me to do, but I am searching.

I read this quote from Tim Keller last week and found inspiration to complete this post.   You see,  I started writing it months ago and was stuck every time I tried to finish.
I felt I couldn't complete the blog post until I had nicely put this pride struggle in the lesson-learned-never-to-repeat compartment.   I'm realizing now-- that compartment has a revolving door.  

In this New Year I pray for God's Grace and His Spirit to fill me more and more.  

Let true humility reign.   
Keep my ego in the right balance.  
Gratitude,  always gratitude. 



The Radical Humility of Jesus

a new school year... infused with 10% more gratitude!

I haven't blogged but twice in the last year and I hope to pick this up again.  There have been many thoughts that swirl in my head and heart the last 3 years that I've found helpful to explore here in blogsville.  Reading my former posts also creates for me a convicting archive to look back on and see if I've grown... as a mother, a wife, a follower and servant of Christ.  And really, if I'm not growing, what's the point of all this expression besides just a bunch of cyber hot air? 

I wrote the post copied below one year ago today.   It's really kind of amusing and comforting to read it now as I feel very much the same.  Minus the orange soda disaster but with the added bonus of even more inside out, balled up sweaty soccer socks. 

Yes, today's post is a bit of a repeat but I had to jump start the minivan somehow!

more(new)to come.
___________________________________________________________

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

small victories.

"Made it to Tuesday!"  my friend texted me yesterday.

I smiled because I was really feeling that text. 

Making it to Tuesday seems almost laughable doesn't it?
How can we not make it to a Tuesday?  it's only the 3rd day of the week,  how hard can it be?

Sometimes Monday is such a Monday, that Tuesday's arrival is a thing of victory!

"Made it to Tuesday!"
It's not nearly as accomplished as the victorious shout,  "TGIF !!!"
...but, at times it sure feels like it.

It's that time of year where I have to right my attitude rather often.
School is back in session,  and with it comes all the busy.

The big irony of my life is this...
I.DON'T.LIKE.BEING.CRAZY.BUSY.

It annoys me.  Unlike some,  I don't thrive on chaos,  but secretly wish I did. 
I tend to lose function (and graciousness) right at the height of the busyness.
It's not a great scene.

After those moments I am always left with this:  a pile of crying kids,  sky high laundry,  incomplete homework.   Oh, and let's just throw in a completely spilled 2L of orange soda,  Dan working out of town and a teething toddler for good measure.
How do I reconcile my aversion to busyness with the reality that I have 5 kids going in 5 different directions?  I ask myself that question quite often because wishing my life was slower paced,  more home based and less minivan occupied is really not going to help matters.   I must take actions to keep myself from the quicksand of grumbling discontent.  

This week's action:  ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE
with a rambling  manifesto  prayer...

How can I not completely bust open with thankfulness for all that God has given me?  Does sticky orange soda ALL OVER EVERYWHERE really amount to anything when compared to the 5 healthy, funny, naughty, unique kids that spilled it?

NO.   Our kids are gifts.  Every moment that I cart them around, wipe their butts,  fold their laundry, make their sandwiches,  give them tylenol,  cheer them on, and put them to bed is a gift of a life with them.
Yes,  of course I will feel like I am going off the rails from time to time but, Lord,  help me not to lose perspective for too long.  
God,  speak to me when I can't seem to do one more math problem or tackle the dishwasher for the millioneth time   Remind me Lord, that these moments are purposeful, sacred.   
YOU have called me to them.

During it all help me celebrate the small victories,  see the wins, may they stimulate my day and my attitude so I know just how precious this life is.   

May I always thank you, Lord for these days... even the Mondays.


The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases,
His Mercies Never Come to an End.
They are New Every Morning,
New Every Morning.
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Oh Lord.
Great is Thy Faithfulness! 

Lamentations 3:22-23 

an offering

I remember my Mom telling me what song they sang in church the Sunday morning following my delivery of our 5th baby,  a girl we named April.     Mom said I would have had a difficult time singing the words,  as did she that Spring Sunday morning, 3 years ago.

Blessed be Your Name

On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

The reality of pregnancy loss and the literal giving away of our deceased baby to the nurse was,  as the lyrics of the song truthfully convey,  a painful offering. 

Was it a true offering?   Something (someone) was being taken that I was unwilling to give.  At the time it seemed to make no earthly sense.

Why was I given only 17 weeks to carry her? 

Was I to offer God the life of this baby?  a life that had already ended?  

I used to think of an offering as a voluntary action.  I give my time or my service,  or maybe even a gift or tithe.   Offerings were something I initiated,  that I was comfortable with.   Meaningful and fruitful,  but not painful offerings. 

3 years ago today God moved in my life to make an offering of a different sort.   When faced with the devastation and sadness of April's death I learned (although not immediately) that I had to offer it all back to the Lord.   The confusion,  the ache,  the tears,  the emptiness,  the doubt,  the fear.    I had to release my plans,  our hopes for the child this baby would become.   Hanging on so tightly to these things would never give me peace.

The song continues and within the chorus, these words:

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

I had always found these lyrics perplexing.
Yes,  God gives.  That was easy to see.  All I had to do was look at the beautiful faces of my 4 children.
He gives immeasurably more than we need and most certainly more than what's deserved.  Perhaps this song speaks also of the comfort God gives,  or the Grace and love he lavishes on us.   Or the joy in Salvation that circumstance can't deplete.  
He gives.

But,  the next part...
He gives... AND takes away?  Lord Blessed be your Name?  
If I sing this,  do I claim that God took our baby?   am I supposed to praise His name anyway?
That seemed to make lesser sense.
Praising God in the midst of pain is work,  it is a choice,  it's an offering.  It takes faith.  For me it opened my heart for healing.  I believe this song speaks also to the way Jesus takes away our hurts,  our anger,  our sadness,  our guilt,  our sin. 
He takes. 

I don't want to imply that 3 years later everything is tied up nicely with a bow and this chapter is closed.  Nor do I mean to over simplify healing or equate my loss with the pain another may be experiencing.  I do desire to be honest about what I've learned.  I am thankful to see the ways the Spirit moves in my life through our loss of April.    So, yes.  Her short life was an offering.   An offering of my heart to ways that were not my own.   A yielding to the Father when my circumstance was beyond my understanding.

In those days I realized with new eyes that God held my life,   just as He held April's life until the moment her heart stopped beating,  and that He holds her still today.

If you are new or are interested in reading more about my story...

 Here is a link to click.  It's a summary with additional links to other posts.

small victories.

"Made it to Tuesday!"  my friend texted me yesterday.

I smiled because I was really feeling that text. 

Making it to Tuesday seems almost laughable doesn't it?
How can we not make it to a Tuesday?  it's only the 3rd day of the week,  how hard can it be?

Sometimes Monday is such a Monday, that Tuesday's arrival is a thing of victory!

"Made it to Tuesday!"
It's not nearly as accomplished as the victorious shout,  "TGIF !!!"
...but, at times it sure feels like it.

It's that time of year where I have to right my attitude rather often.
School is back in session,  and with it comes all the busy.

The big irony of my life is this...
I.DON'T.LIKE.BEING.CRAZY.BUSY.

It annoys me.  Unlike some,  I don't thrive on chaos,  but secretly wish I did. 
I tend to lose function (and graciousness) right at the height of the busyness.
It's not a great scene.

After those moments I am always left with this:  a pile of crying kids,  sky high laundry,  incomplete homework.   Oh, and let's just throw in a completely spilled 2L of orange soda,  Dan working out of town and a teething toddler for good measure.

How do I reconcile my aversion to busyness with the reality that I have 5 kids going in 5 different directions?  I ask myself that question quite often because wishing my life was slower paced,  more home based and less minivan occupied is really not going to help matters.   I must take actions to keep myself from the quicksand of grumbling discontent.  

This week's action:  ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE
with a rambling  manifesto  prayer...

How can I not completely bust open with thankfulness for all that God has given me?  Does sticky orange soda ALL OVER EVERYWHERE really amount to anything when compared to the 5 healthy, funny, naughty, unique kids that spilled it?

NO.   Our kids are gifts.  Every moment that I cart them around, wipe their butts,  fold their laundry, make their sandwiches,  give them tylenol,  cheer them on, and put them to bed is a gift of a life with them.
Yes,  of course I will feel like I am going off the rails from time to time but, Lord,  help me not to lose perspective for too long.  
God,  speak to me when I can't seem to do one more math problem or tackle the dishwasher for the millioneth time   Remind me Lord, that these moments are purposeful, sacred.   
YOU have called me to them.

During it all help me celebrate the small victories,  see the wins,  may they stimulate my day and my attitude so I know just how precious this life is.   

May I always thank you, Lord for these days... even the Mondays.



I hope to work through and write about other intentional actions I can take to be the Momma I want to be.
but don't hold your breath...
I am a slow learner.


thanks for the inspirational text, friend-  truly.

The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases,
His Mercies Never Come to an End.
They are New Every Morning,
New Every Morning.
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Oh Lord.
Great is Thy Faithfulness!

good times. noodle salad.

So,  here I am at the end of another summer season with my thoughts and photo archives bursting at the seams.   We had more than enough activity to fill our days and nights and weekends.  I am thankful for this.  It made the long days and nights with Dan working away more bearable and we created memories I hope the kids will hold onto.

Here at the blog my tendency is to photo dump in an attempt to bring it up to date.  Let's call it...

SUMMER SNAPSHOT 2012

Cruisin'

I'll see you again in 15 years,  I told him.

It may just be that long, or longer before we are able to spend 8 days alone again.
Back in March while Dan worked out of state,  we planned a trip to celebrate our 15 year anniversary.

It kind of felt like one of those once in a lifetime vacations,  and if that's true,  we are even more grateful for it.

I'll be honest.  Going into the trip I questioned 3 things:

Was the trip too long?

Would I miss the kids too much?

Would we remember how to be "just the two of us"?


The first day in we were quite tired from all the traveling so eating and sleeping took precedence.  No time to worry about my 3 main concerns,   we turned off the alarm and slept for what felt like a week.

Fully refreshed,  the next couple days went lazily by.   The surreal life is an accurate description to what we experienced on that cruise.   No alarms.  No kids.  No work.  No schedule.  No cooking.  No cleaning. No crying. No employees.  No pressure.  No stress.

I warned Dan for a few weeks prior that I had stored up many a conversation for the cruise.  One thing that we don't have the luxury of at home is finding a great amount of time to just sit and talk about things.  Things meaning more than our usual conversations about time he will be home from work and what kid needs what, where and how.

The cool thing about being away for 8 days is that you have all the time in the world to talk about the future,  our family, our dreams,  our struggles, our church, work,  anything and everything.   The cool thing is that on the cruise there were no distractions except if you count the waiter bringing me a bahama mama.

Question 1 answered.  8 days was not too long.  It probably took me that long to get all my words out.
Poor Dan.

Question 2.  Would I miss the kids too much?   We have been on trips before a few times in the first 15 and it seemed like those vacations found me homesick at some point.   I have to admit... not this time.   I love my children dearly,  no surprise there, but being away from them was refreshing!   Big surprise there!   I knew they were having a wonderful time with Grandmas and Grandpas so I cruised that week free as a bird!   No diapers to buy,  no minivan to drive,  no fights to break up.

Question 3.   Would we remember how to be "just the two of us?"
Well, this one was a bit more interesting.   Since the year 2000 we've been Mom and Dad...not as much Dan and Chelle.    I worried that we might stare at each other blankly and think... "who are you?"

Did I ever mention that I probably worry too much?

With dinners and shows and beaches, and pools, people watching and shopping, Oh, and how can I forget- Dan's slight Bingo obsession...
We had more than enough to do remind us that we are capable of fun outside of our parental roles.

I miss that cruise.  These days, it feels like it was just a dream.  In some ways it kind of was.

I'll see you again in 15 years, Dan.

Until then,  thank you for a lovely, precious time.  We will always have that moment on the top deck.  Remember?  When we cruised out of the port into the sunset and I fell asleep on your shoulder?   You may have thought it was the Benydryl I took for my heat rash  that made me so drowsy, but really-- it was one of the most contented,  peaceful moments of my life and I could just rest next to my love.

a few pix of the trip...

  Oops.  looks like someone forgot to pack black socks.   

 All fancied up for dinner.

 Loving the Sun!  a little too much actually according to my case of sun poisoning. 

that was unfortunate!

 Just about won us 5000 in Bingo!  but instead lost 40 bucks in 20 minutes.

 He couldn't wait to plunge into that clear water in Tortola.

 "hey, Hon.  let me take a picture of you by the ocean."

 Breakfast is served!   I love me some room service.  

 On May 23, 2012  officially our 15th Anniversary.

again..." Hey Hon,  let me take a picture of you by the ocean."

And one last little funny...

Dan would NOT let me purchase any of the posed photos that they take of you on the cruise.  

He did however try to video tape me checking out the proofs in the photo gallery.  

That is... before he was busted.

5k follow-up

It was probably the first thing I set my mind to in a LONG time that I actually accomplished.
I have a ridiculous ability to talk myself out of doing things,  and exercise was always one of them.
if you wish,  read the back story on this idea.  here.

Training for a 5k was so far out of my comfort zone that Dan and I chuckled a lot in back in March when I started.   I would rather unwillingly drudge to the basement and set the treadmill to a rip roaring 4mph.

As March turned to April and then May I had improved my attitude by leaps and bounds and along with that came this curious actual desire to lace up and jog.    A group of my wonderful gal pals and I were committed to running a local 5k,  and it was drawing nearer and nearer.

I would have to say one of the funniest things about this journey was while Dan and I were on our anniversary cruise (more on that later).  We had such an extreme amount of free time on our hands that we went to the ship's gym and ran on the treadmills.   I am not sure I can accurately describe how obsurd this is for ol' Dan and Chelle.   Any other vacation you'll likely find Dan camped out at the ice cream machine or midnight buffet and me at ... well,  the swim up bar or ordering room service.   So,  you see,  the ship's gym was unchartered territory.    With the 5k looming I had to knock off a couple runs on vacay as to not fall too far behind.

All of a sudden it was race day.   I was more nervous about Dan's abilities that day since he hadn't trained  a lick.   I figured I would be good to go.
What followed was a butt kicking.  His kicking mine- in regard to finishing times.

But that's OK.  I took great delight in experiencing something completely new.   There was SO much I learned in that race.  Things to do differently,  ways to push myself harder,  and ultimately the sense of accomplishment of a personal goal.

i could not have done this without the encouragement from so many and I honestly thank them for it!

laugh. out. loud.

they also kicked my butt :)  Way to get out there and run,  Dykstras!

I do look forward to the next 5k.   I really, Really need to shave a few minutes off my time!
In the mean time,  you might see me running down the street solving the world's problems in my head and (finally) enjoying every step!


a helpful quote I came across today...  quite encouraging because oh, my.  I experienced both!

"Relish the bad training runs.  Without them it's difficult to recognize, much less appreciate the good ones"  

--Pat Teske