I Corinthians 3 (NIV, 2011)…

"Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly—mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans? For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere human beings?

What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.

By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should build with care. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved—even though only as one escaping through the flames.

Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for God’s temple is sacred, and you together are that temple.

Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight. As it is written: “He catches the wise in their craftiness”; and again, “The Lord knows that the thoughts of the wise are futile.” So then, no more boasting about human leaders! All things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God." (NIV)

My thoughts:

One of the great plights of my life is my fiery temper. But I will not react today. By the grace of God, I will hold my tongue and I will pray for those who persecute me. I am not wise by the standards of this age. I am not better than anyone else. I do not have a corner on the truth.

I do love Jesus, and I pray that every day His light would shine through me. I pray that He would use my hands and my feet to bless “the least of these”. And one day I pray that as I fall on my face before Him, He will have mercy on this broken piece of clay.

Lisa

Happy 1st Birthday, Baby Princess!!!

I thought I was going to be really sad. I mean, not just sniffle a little bit – she’s growing up so fast, but the kind of really sad where you cry all day long… I was especially worried about this after dealing with postpartum depression last year and particularly worried because there have been a few kind of blue days in the past month or so. But I wasn’t sad… at all!

Miah has occasionally been referred to as our “bonus baby”! Although Phil and I had talked about having five children from the early stages of our relationship, pregnancies were not easy around here, and after Ian we thought we might just call it good. And life with four children was good. But there was always something in the back of my mind reminding me that we were really supposed to have one more… and then one day, there she was!

My pregnancy with Miah was a mess. Miah’s birth story is a mess. When Miah was born, she was a mess! In fact, she was so bruised it was sort of scary, and she had one eye that remained bloodshot for several months. I called her my “Red Eyed Tree Frog”! (If you do not have a toddler or are not familiar with Go, Diego, Go, that probably seems strange). However, it was for this reason that I had to chuckle… just a little… when she contracted pink eye right before her birthday… Thankfully, medical science is good, but I did refer to Miah as my red eyed tree frog again, for a couple of days.

I should mention here that Miah has broken the mold at every turn for this family! At Christmas we discovered that she finds presents distressing… Our latest discovery is that she hates cake… and ice cream… I have pictures of my oldest 4 children covered in birthday cake. Heck, I even have a picture of Grace with her whole face down on the table, trying to suck in as much cake as possible! There is no such picture for Miah…

I remember thinking that Seth was so huge on his first birthday. This may have had something to do with the fact that we were eagerly awaiting Grace’s arrival just a little less than a month later. I remember thinking that Grace was huge on her first birthday, too. This was likely aided by the fact that the child could speak in full sentences. I remember crying on Caleb’s first birthday and being a little teary eyed on Ian’s, thinking that either could be our last first birthday. But Miah… I actually snuggled down with her a little after midnight, because she wanted to nurse, and I said, “Oh… you’re one! Happy Birthday, Princess!” And then I looked at her closely and thought, “My gosh, you’re so little yet!”

And I felt very happy…

I love my wonderful, beautiful, amazing Miah!


Lisa

PS It's tradition to say what the birthday person wants to eat for dinner, so might I add that Miah had frozen Stouffers Macaroni and Cheese... I had never bought this myself until her birthday, but my mom gave Miah some last week, and she has refused most everything else since. And oh yes... presents... Miah is now the proud owner of some new books, a VeggieTales princess castle, and a Tinkerbell Power Quad (which Grace is sort of tempted to ride around the house)...

I Don't Really Want...

... my blog to deteriorate into song lyrics posts...

However...

This song pretty much sums up how I'm feeling about life right now, so here it is...

I Am Not Leaving Now
By: Satellite Soul

I spent my life stumbling down this road that I must travel
And I spent my time chasing dreams that never did unravel
I've seen the light in the darkness
And I've seen the clouds roll away

I am not leaving now
Faced the prairie darkness, seen the cold wind howl
I cannot take my bow
'til I've stated the reason for the hope I found
I am not leaving now

I run this race with weary feet
And a heart that's newly branded
And I set my face
To the east and so far I'm still standin'
Though I'm afraid of the silence
(Well) I am not running away

I am not leaving now
Faced the prairie darkness, seen the cold wind howl
I cannot take my bow
'til I've stated the reason for the hope I found
I am not leaving now

(Well) I believe there is a prize awaitin'
Those who will finish strong
I could stand around here debating
Or take my cross and carry on for I

I spent my life stumbling down this road that I must travel
I spent my time chasing dream that never did unravel
Though I'm afraid of the silence
I am not running away

I am not leaving now
Faced the prairie darkness, seen the cold wind howl
I cannot take my bow
'til I've stated the reason for the hope I found
I am not leaving now

L.

Do I Really Want To…

Jump into the Piper/Taylor/Bell controversy with both feet?

No… not really…

But here I go, alienating everybody I know from both sides again… probably…

What the heck? It’s Wednesday morning… as good an excuse as any, I suppose…

Just a few minutes ago I read an article that I liked, by Jason Boyett, regarding this subject. I am going to list the blog link below. I did not agree with 100% of what was said (and I am going to try to outline a little of that here), so please don’t send me messages about how I’m going to the hell I don’t believe in, because #1 I didn’t say that I don’t believe that hell exists and #2 I’m not going there unless God says I’m going there, so it doesn’t really matter what you think… about that… To read the article, click here.

Now, I have to admit, I didn’t even know who Justin Taylor was until I started reading this morning. Apparently, he works for Crossway Publishing and is a respected blogger in the conservative Christian world. That’s what I gathered anyway. I went looking for his blog and found these guidelines for people who wish to make comments:

“Comments Policy

I welcome blog comments, although they are often notorious for unfruitful and uncharitable discussions.

I hope this can be a place where we “seek understanding” before critiquing, where we are quick to listen and slow to speak, where we judge others charitably not critically, where we encourage and build up each other rather than tearing down and destroying each other.

I would encourage commenters to consider carefully the following commands and principles regarding our speech:

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Col. 4:6).

“By your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matt. 12:37).

“Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor” (Rom. 12:10).

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Eph. 4:29).

Speak the truth in love (Eph. 4:15, 25).

“If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless” (James 1:26).”

(http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/justintaylor/about/)

These are very biblical guidelines, and let me say here that anything I am about to write is not meant to be judgmental toward anyone involved in this controversy. It is only meant to be thought provoking…

Now in the article I mentioned above, Justin Taylor is quoted as saying (about Rob Bell), “It is unspeakably sad when those called to be ministers of the Word distort the gospel and deceive the people of God with false doctrine.”

I agree… completely…

But not about Rob Bell (at least not today).

The complete post can be found here.

Then John Piper (I guess he’s another highly respected pastor I’ve never heard of) goes on to link to Taylor’s post (which I thought was kind of innovative, since the post quoted Piper, himself) and then proclaims on Twitter, “Farewell, Rob Bell.”

Thus ensues a top 10 trending topic (and since I am also completely uncultured in the Twitter realm, I don’t understand this in its entirety, but I guess it means a lot of people are talking about this).

Wow…

Much of what Boyett goes on to say, I agree with completely. His thoughts on this controversy are pretty good. Here is where I digress…

I’m not going to be as gracious as he was about judging a book by its cover… publisher’s copy… whatever… I really can’t say what I think about the book until I’ve read it, and I don’t think it makes sense for anyone else to do that, either. I would say that I am hopeful that once people like Piper and Taylor read the book they will be embarrassed by their behavior… offer sincere apologies… and retract their comments.

I want to be hopeful, because I want to believe that what Bell wrote is not a stamp of approval on Universalism but rather a work that takes Biblical perspective and life experiences and exposes the myths surrounding a hell that modern Christianity has created. I did not just say that I do not believe hell exists! Please… please get that. But I do believe that it is quite possible that modern Christianity has twisted hell into something it is not, therefore, distorting the gospel and deceiving the people… hmmm…

I want to be hopeful, but I am not… and it’s not because I don’t think that’s what Bell has done (remember… the book isn’t even out yet!) The reason I am not hopeful is because in my own experience I have found that people who hold to the kind of Christianity that Piper and Taylor apparently hold to are not going to read this book… not really. They are going to get offended by chapter two and put it down… or they are going to scan… or they might even read every last word, but they are not going to understand it!

The problem with people who are so entrenched in their own theology is that they can never look at anything from a different perspective… even if their perspective is wrong… even if they know their perspective is wrong… Which; I’m not saying that it is or that they do. I would venture to say that Piper and Taylor would tell you that they maintain a Biblical perspective. That’s great! So do I! But the truth about Biblical perspective is that it requires interpretation (and that article I’ve “mentioned” three times now does a great job of summing up what that might mean)…

Although I agree with Boyett’s thoughts and frustrations regarding Biblical interpretation; I have to digress slightly again at this point. He states, “In the New Testament, Jesus talks about hell a lot, but sometimes in ways that a reasonable person could interpret metaphorically.” Actually, I don’t think that Jesus talks about hell “a lot”. Further, you can’t just take the translated English, count the 14 references to hell (in the NIV, 1984 version) and come to a reasonable conclusion that everyone who doesn’t agree with you is going to burn there eternally. You just can’t.

As a sidenote, 12 of those 14 references appear in the gospels.

Six are in regard to amputating body parts that cause you to sin (Matthew 5 and 18, Mark 9), and I have yet to meet someone who has done this. Even those who take a very literal view of Scripture draw the line somewhere, huh? Well… that or their hands, feet, and eyes have never caused them to sin…

Two of the remaining references are in the passage regarding the “seven woes” (Matthew 23) that Jesus directs to the Pharisees and Teachers of the Law, and another addresses the fate of false teachers (II Peter 2).

Two are directed to Jesus’ disciples (Matthew 10, Luke 12).

Two more concern our words and their consequences (Matthew 5, James 3).

Any way I look at this, it seems that those of us who claim to be Christians… who claim to be disciples… are the ones who should heed these words. And before anybody jumps in and says, “Yeah… that’s exactly what we’re saying to Rob Bell!”… perhaps we should examine ourselves first?

That’s 13. If there is one passage that causes me to take pause and consider the validity of an Orthodox Christian perspective on hell, it is Luke 16:16-31. It has baffled me for a very long time that this is the singular account that I can find of a person being sent to hell. But even here, there is no reference to faith… or even to works. Here we read that the rich man is suffering in hell, because he has already received his good things on earth, while Lazarus is with Abraham, because he suffered in his life on Earth. Further, it should be noted, that at this point, Jesus has not yet died. At this time, there was no one who could cross over the chasm from hell to where Lazarus and Abraham were. But Jesus did. I’m not sure how that changes the story, or if it does. It’s just something to consider. At any rate, Luke 16 does, indeed, give way to a possible traditional/conservative view of hell.

And you know… this really wasn’t supposed to turn into a monologue on the Scriptures of hell. Really… it wasn’t. And in fact, looking back at this I don’t really want to post it, but if I don’t I will have wasted my entire Wednesday morning, so I guess it’s going up…

My point was…

There is controversy.

There is controversy in the church.

Somebody is probably right.

And somebody is probably wrong.

Maybe.

If you’re right, you’d sure… well, you’d better be right.

I believe in mercy and grace. I believe in justice, too.

A couple of days ago, I had a profound thought. It doesn’t happen all that often, so I’m going with it. Somehow, I think it relates to this topic, and I think that’s why I had it to begin with. I am sure it relates to a lot of other topics, too, but for now I need to let those rest or I really will find myself in a tricky situation, and I really won’t get anything else accomplished today…

I have great respect for Rob Bell. I will read his book when it comes out. I will probably agree with much of it. I will probably hate some of it. And I might even agree with some of what I hate. There will be points to argue, I’m sure, but I will never question Rob’s Christianity… even if the whole book goes against everything I believe in. That’s just not my job. This in combination with the words that hit me like a train the other day got me to thinking about Rob’s influence… which got me to thinking about my own. Surely, there will be more to come on this…

But now for my thought:

You can spend your whole life trying to convince a few people who aren’t even listening to you that what they’re doing is wrong, or you can spend your whole life trying to teach the people within your circle of influence how to live rightly.

And if everyone in your circle of influence is perfect, then you’re useless…

Lisa

PS On the off chance that any of my readers are planning a Nooma burning ceremony, would you please just drop them off at my back door, instead?

My Cape Is Threadbare...

The other day, I was having a conversation with a friend of mine. We were talking about how thin we’ve spread ourselves with various activities for the kids, and she referenced my annual Christmas letter. She said that if she wasn’t already feeling like a loser, she sure was after she read it.

I was just… shocked…

I am sure she didn’t mean to throw me into a state of self examination over how I make other people feel. I am also sure that this is exactly what happened, whether she meant it or not…

Let me just debunk the Christmas letter myth for a minute here…

I spend countless hours every year writing about the ups and downs of my life, and the life of my family, in blog form. I have shared before how I actually received condolences after some of our vacation adventures were published. I am shameless in admitting things like my inability to perform dances in my 6 year old’s music class, my insecurity over my lack of savvy hair styling ability for my pre-teen daughter, my struggle with materialism, my frustration over the fact that I am never going to wear the cute, little clothes in my closet again, my postpartum depression experience, my severely inconsistent life. Yeah… If you’re reading this, you’ve probably read it all before… You get the picture…

I try to be transparent. I try to be real. I try to share a little piece of the human me, because super heroes are really cool, but they don’t connect all that well…

And then every December, I dust the pedestal off and compose the letter that contains a recap of life as I know it on my greatest days… and life as I wish it was all the time…

To be honest, my regular blog readers (all three of you) probably breathe a sigh of relief when they receive our letter and realize that even though I considered giving the goldfish CPR… and even though I fed the kids burnt pizza… and even though I cried when I threw away a couple of huge trash bags full of the kids’ art (and watched the garbage man heave it into the truck)… I haven’t really lost it completely!

The Christmas letter brings balance to the force… or something… Wait a minute, wrong theme… I don’t brandish a light saber while writing the letter… I wear my cape…

Oh yes… I should return to the subject at hand…

My cape…

My cape is threadbare…
It used to have a magnificent “W” on the back. I loved being “Superwoman” until I realized that I couldn’t save the world. People expected more than I was capable of, and well… it kind of lost its luster after that…

It’s been awhile now since I turned it upside down…

Come to find out, that was a bad move for “Superwoman”! (It was not a bad move for Lisa, but we’ll get to that)… Apparently, once you have brandished the shiny “W” cape, people don’t like it too well when you take it off. I’m suddenly not the highly esteemed, best… well… anything, anymore. I really hate that. I really hate that I gave… and gave… and gave… and gave… and gave of myself, and that when I finally said, “Hey wait! I have to stop, ‘cause there’s nothing left,” that was the end of a beautiful… well… just fill in the blank…

I hate it, but I’m learning to live with it…

I think maybe my biggest mistake was putting the cape back on…

I sure didn’t put it back on the way a lot of people wanted me too, either…

When I fastened it this time, there was a huge “M” on the back!

Enter “Supermom”…

Now, I have always tried to be a good mom. That’s not what I’m talking about here. But lately, I have tried to be an “everything” mom, and it’s not really working out for me. I have five children… count them… they’re a handful… literally!

If you do the math, you know that if every one of them participates in even one activity, we could potentially have every weekday filled with practices, classes, or lessons, and there would undoubtedly be events, games, performances, etc. on Saturdays… or Sundays… or both.

At the present moment, we have 4 children enrolled in music classes, 1 child enrolled in art classes, 2 basketball players, 1 cheerleader, and 3 Bible quizzers… We homeschool, we have play dates, and Phil and I run children’s church with the help of our beloved “Horsey” who shall remain nameless, because it’s just embarrassing when you’re a Junior in High School and multiple children call you, “Horsey”! This is all I can handle! No, really, this is more than I can handle! And the obvious question becomes, “Why don’t you just say no?”

Let me make my answer very clear. I do say no. I said no to gymnastics. I said no to dance. I said no to soccer. I said no to Little League. I said no to pottery class. I said no to swimming (and even canceled the Y membership). And I say no to circus, year… after year… after year…

Well… I thought I was going to become “Supermom”, but what I really became was ultra dirty mini van driving mom… I mean, the van’s dirty. I am not dirty. My one non-negotiable is that I will have time to bathe. When the activities start encroaching on my hygiene, we’re done (although actually styling my hair in any way or putting on make-up have gone out the window, so if you see me and there are flies swarming around my head and drool is running out of my mouth, you might remind me of this high standard I’ve set for myself)…

Somewhere along the line, though, I noticed that my cape was starting to unravel…

Maybe it was when Seth begged to not have pizza… again… last week…

Or maybe it was when Grace’s eyes almost spilled tears when she realized I had completely forgotten about her mini-musicale (which I did make it back for, just so you know)…

Or maybe it was when I adhered Caleb’s iron on stars to the iron instead of to his basketball shirt (when you are too tired to distinguish shiny side from fuzzy side, something’s wrong)…

Or maybe it was when I sat down to read to Ian and realized the book was worn, and I’d never read it to him before…

Or maybe it was when I was shouting through the house today that Grace should stop trying to teach Miah to walk, because I’d like to be there when it happens…

Ouch…

I am not “Superwoman”… and I am not “Supermom”… and maybe, just maybe, the number of accomplishments you can cram into a Christmas letter does not determine whether or not you are a loser…

Ouch…

I do not know where I’m going from here… Where we’re going from here…

I need to get things into perspective.

I’m going to be taking some time to do that.

Lisa

Why 5 Is Enough For Us (Part 1)…

I am having the extreme pleasure of watching a friend’s baby today. Ella is two weeks old. She is beautiful, and she is exceptionally good. As of this writing, I have had her for almost five hours and she has cried twice… for about 15 seconds each time. I hope Brandy needs me to watch her on occasion, because I am loving every minute of it.

However…

I think something must have changed in me at some point, because up until today all of the little “last firsts” with Miah have been very sad for me. I have nearly been dreading Miah’s birthday next month as it gets closer and closer, because it will mark the end of the “baby year”, and therefore the end of our “baby years”.

But I realized something as I was snuggling Ms. Ella while Miah tried with all of her might to tackle us (don’t worry Brandy… she did not succeed… that’s what older siblings are for)… I don’t want another baby. I totally love Ella. As the years go by and my friends continue to produce offspring, I think it should be a law that they have to leave them with me for a full day at two weeks old. But Miah is… and forever more shall be… my baby.

OK… so never say never, right?

I may wake up on my 40th birthday and just have to have another one in order to survive. If that happens, then fine. I will grow old changing diapers. However, at this particular moment, I sure don’t think so.

There is a lot more to this… But it has to be a two parter (at least), because I have an awful lot of little people who need me now!

Lisa

My Thoughts on Snow Days…

The truth is… as a kid… I lived for snow days! I mean, really… who didn’t? I had the phone number for the bus garage memorized, and I kept my purple phone by the head of my bed (not a cell phone, mind you… just a good old land line). That way, I could dial the number, listen to the automated message, and if school was closed; I could roll over and resume my hibernation for a couple of extra hours! Later, of course, I would get into all of my snow gear and play outside (most often sledding in my own backyard with the neighborhood kids). Looking back on it, it feels as if we stayed out for hours. I’m not sure if that’s accurate, though, because it seems that my own kids only make it 1 – 1 ½ hours tops… and maybe I wasn’t really a whole lot more resilient. When I was done playing outside, there was ample hot chocolate waiting for me in the kitchen.

This kind of thing happened maybe once a year… The only exception was the true blizzard we had when I was probably 9 or 10. It was a really bad idea to go out and play in that one, because the snow was covered with ice, and I fell and smashed my face in it… I think we got two days for that one…

At any rate, I grew up in Michigan. If you grow up in Michigan and you have a responsible parent, he or she takes you outside when you are 15 and the roads are covered with ice. He or she then says, “Here are the keys… it’s a good day to learn how to drive!” You get into the car, and you are expected to go from 0 to 120 in 3 seconds. You are then instructed to hit the brakes as hard as you can, and if you can regain control of the vehicle, you are allowed to take Driver’s Ed. the following summer. If you crash the car, you are banned from driving until you turn 31. That’s just how you have to do it in Michigan. (And, as a sidenote, this can all take place in your driveway, or at the very most, on your private dirt road, while all of your neighbors watch and shield their children from possible disaster.

Exaggeration? Maybe a little… but I really did learn to drive on sleet…

I also remember countless days, trying to make my way to the school bus and slipping and falling on the ice. It happened every year. It was embarrassing.

Now, I am all for caution! If you are uncomfortable driving on the roads, then by all means, PLEASE stay off of them. I say this for your safety as well as my own. The truth is; I don’t really worry a whole lot about my own driving abilities in the snow… and on the ice. But I do worry a great deal about other drivers. I am an extremely defensive driver in the winter months, because I know full well that not everybody learned to drive in Michigan. It scares me that an awful lot of people think you can drive just as fast as usual over the ice and they don’t leave extra time to brake. These two mistakes are often very costly. That’s precisely why Michigan parents have their children make these mistakes on purpose. Once you’ve tried it, you’ll never want to do it again!

I guess all of these thoughts came from the debates I’ve seen going on this week on facebook. I realized, yesterday, that people are starting to get a little upset with one another over whether this stuff is safe to drive in or not. Then it occurred to me that I was probably falling way on the “apathetic about snow and ice” side, and I wanted to share a little bit of background. People who do not feel safe or who do not have experience driving in this should not do so! I value all of my friends, and I would not want any of them to meet a tragic fate because of this weather. However, I do not really think it is treacherous out there if you are used to the snow and ice and know how to handle it properly. That said, I haven’t left the house since Sunday. I have had no need to go out, since the refrigerator is stocked (thanks, Phil), and all of the kids classes have been cancelled all week.

If you cannot avoid going out, and snow and ice make you nervous, PLEASE drive very slowly and carefully, do not hit your brakes hard (you really shouldn’t need to if you’re driving very slowly and carefully), use your lights (even during the day), make sure you’re not going any faster than your visibility allows, watch for other drivers (maybe the very most important), and if you have to pull over and call off, then do it! Although I have heard the argument that some people cannot afford to miss a day of work, I’m still thinking it’s better for your family if you miss one day than it is if you are killed trying to get there and miss the rest of your life!

Realistically, do I think the local schools needed to call another snow day today? No… I don’t. I think this makes the 4th or 5th snow day this year. As you probably know, we homeschool. We did, indeed, give in and take a snow day yesterday, but that has been our only one. We are currently involved in the two weeks a year when I teach for the ITBS. Although I find standardized testing to be quite important; I tend to be able to cover anything we’ve missed in a week or two. But this is a story for another day… probably later this month…

Drive Safe!

Lisa

Love... This... Song...

Hold On
By: Toby Mac

Wake up to the morning light
wipe away the lonely nights
let a brand new day wash over you,
Wanna see you smile again
show some love to your crazy friends
wipe your tears away
those days are through

If you move just a little bit closer you can put your head on my shoulder
Yeah, yeah

So baby hold on
just another day or two
I can see the clouds are
moving faster now
and the sun is breaking through
If you can hold on, to the one that's holding you
there is nothing that can
stop this crazy love
from breaking through

We're breaking through
We're breaking through

Wake up to the morning sun
thank the Lord for the
things He's done
lift your eyes up to the
hope that's ever true
Wanna see you smiling girl
you're a light in this jaded world
wipe away those tears
this one's for you

Come on, move a little bit closer, you can put your head on my shoulder
Yeah, yeah

So baby hold on
just another day or two
I can see the clouds are
moving faster now
and the sun is breaking through
If you can hold on, to the one that's holding you
there is nothing that can
stop this crazy love
from breaking through

And the stars are up there
shining for you
oh, the Father does adore you
His love will never change
And you and I
we were born to follow
the hope that will lead us to tomorrow
and no one can take it away

So baby hold on
just another day or two
I can see the clouds are
moving faster now
and the sun is breaking through
If you could hold on
to the one that's holding you
there is nothing that can stop this crazy, crazy love from breaking

You see the clouds are
moving faster now
the clouds are moving faster

You see the clouds are
moving faster now
And the sun is breaking through

We're breaking through

Lisa

And So It Begins…

I think Middle School has affected my whole life. I really never wanted to admit that publicly… but I guess I just did… Oh, the joys of blogging…

Let us be very clear about one thing… If you are as unfortunate as to own a pictorial dictionary from 1991, you could look up the word, “nerd”, and my school photograph would appear. I was even going to go as far as to scan and post this photograph, but when I looked for it with my other school pictures, it was missing! Even my 5th grade picture in which I look like Medusa is there, but the one from 7th grade? Nowhere to be found. And I never dispose of a picture, so it must have been as bad as I remember it…

For the sake of argument, let me just describe it…

Mushroom style haircut… huge, black, plastic frame glasses… long gold chain… orange t-shirt to match my orange lipstick (and it wasn’t even the year I accidentally stripped my hair bright orange with something permanent until it grew out)… Need I say more? (Well… yes… just one more thing… If you happen to have that picture, will you please scan it and insert it in a comment… and then burn it…)

At any rate… Middle School wasn’t real kind to me…

I had a good friend in elementary school who, much to my dismay, became quite popular and left me behind. I remember that she came over once when we were in 7th grade… under the condition that I would not tell anyone she came over. On that visit, I flat out asked her why I wasn’t popular (I have never been one to mince words). She said a lot of it had to do with my clothes. That was supposed to be remedied, in part, by the fact that I had made the basketball cheerleading squad (after 5 years of football cheerleading, I was good at it… probably much to the dismay of some other people), and we were required to wear our uniforms to school twice a week. I mean… really? I only had to come up with three decent outfits and I could be living the dream of popularity? Sounds too good to be true… And it was. Those other girls on the squad were so mean I got physically sick. I quit after the first game (I did go on to cheer for football one more year, but the demands of High School cheerleading and the attitudes involved were more than I wanted to deal with, even though I would have loved to continue in the sport, itself).

That conversation about clothing never left my mind, though, and even though I didn’t figure it out until years later; I probably wouldn’t appear on “What Not to Wear” now… Well… I mean… right now? That’s a different story, because quite honestly I’m sitting at my computer in a bright orange t-shirt (how ironic)… uh… with a Jack-O-Lantern on it… and worn out grey sweats… But I really don’t wear these things out in public, except on Halloween… They are my PJs… Please don’t come ring my doorbell…

Normally though… I’m not exactly a diva, but I did learn after my High School graduation that Old Navy is a store, not just a brand (and, yes, I had to ask this in 1997… three years after Old Navy opened), and I traded in my wardrobe for something just a little more “upscale”… at least when I planned to leave the house…

Over the years, I also traded my huge plastic frames for some small, semi-frameless ones (and contacts on occasion), I stopped wearing orange (mostly… and definitely in the lipstick department), and although I never have gotten exceptionally good at hair; I can pull the curls into a decent up-do, spray with glitter, and add a tiara, if my life depends on it… and I know how to use a straightener when I have an extra hour of free time (which basically means never, but there is hope for me in a couple of decades)! I don’t expect that anyone would look at my 7th grade school picture, now, and say, “Wow! You haven’t changed a bit!”… except maybe my brother-in-law, who compared me to Weird Al last summer…

When I started having children, I basically determined that they would be well dressed. The first step was; I banned cute little animals on their clothing from day 1 (much to my mother’s chagrin). It took some time, but once Seth was probably 3, Grace was 2, and Caleb was coming into the world; I had learned to shop off season and at outlet stores and consignment stores for places and brands like the aforementioned Old Navy, Gap Kids, The Children’s Place, and Osh Kosh. Around the house, we still wore a lot of sweats, but when we went out, the kids looked good enough that people would comment on how much I spent on clothes (My goodness… it just never ends, does it? Either your clothes aren’t good enough, or you’re a rich snot…)! I will admit that I have snapped just a little bit with Miah, and I actually paid full price for a dress from Hannah Anderson this past Christmas. I am embarrassed to admit that, because I really do try to be frugal with our clothing budget. Sometimes, though, that materialistic feeling creeps up, and although I usually can avoid it; I clicked “make purchase” before I really thought it through and have spent the past few months making sure Miah wears that dress three times a week so I’ll get my money’s worth. The dress went on sale for 70% off after Christmas. I have kicked myself repeatedly…

My favorite comments, lately, have been on my shoes. Let me just say that since I wear my fit flops, exclusively, 9-10 months out of the year, I don’t think any woman who possesses 30-130 pairs of shoes should question my judgment on how much I paid (and I just might buy another pair this spring… take that!) Further… I got my Sketchers shape-ups as a Christmas gift from my mother-in-law… and why the heck do 4th grade little boys comment on my Sketchers during children’s worship?

Was there a point to this post? Oh yeah… That was all just background information… Here comes the real story…

Grace is nine years old… 4th grade. She recently started cheerleading… for basketball. I am not quite sure why I decided to put myself through this, but I guess it’s because she wanted to do it, and the boys are playing basketball (which is a series of funny stories in and of itself… especially with Caleb who is not very athletic… although he does have the build to be… and who is loving every minute of it, even though he cannot hit the net and runs with the ball…)

Last week, Grace wore her pink athletic clothes to practice. They are very cute. The pants are from Osh Kosh. When we got there, however, every other little girl had a white turtleneck on, and they were all expected to change into their uniforms to film video clips that will run for the whole season. The uniforms are red and grey. Grace had to wear her pink t-shirt under the uniform. I was distressed. Ironically, we have apparently taught Grace not to worry about her appearance (Mommy does that for her) or what other people think (Realistically, she’s freaking beautiful, so what is there to worry about anyway)… I think she noticed that I was sinking into the wall, because she came over to inform me that the pink shirt looked fine with her uniform and that I shouldn’t worry about it. The pink shirt really didn’t look fine, but I want to make it clear that I wasn’t embarrassed about how she looked. On the contrary, I was exceptionally proud of her character and her lack of concern over it. What I was embarrassed about was how this made me feel like a failure of a mom. Seriously, Lisa?

So tonight we were off to practice again. I still can’t find a stinkin’ white turtleneck anywhere, but she wore a white long sleeved shirt under her uniform, and it looked fine. I pulled her hair up into a ponytail and then didn’t pull it through all the way, fluffed it, sprayed the curls, and added a matching ribbon. She was picture perfect… too bad the video shoot was last week, huh? There… great mom, right?

I don’t go to Grace’s practices, because they overlap with Caleb’s, and reason says that you let your responsible nine year old do her thing while you watch you six year old and pray you won’t have to intervene because he has relapsed into tornado mode (so far, so good by the way)…

On our way home, Grace says to me, “Mom, why did you leave part of my hair up?”
And I reply, “Because it was cute that way?”
Then Grace says, “One of the girls asked me what happened to my hair?”
And I say, “Did she say that rudely?”
To which Grace replies, “No.”
And I think, “Yeah… right…” But I do not say this…

And then I got quiet… and reflective… and I started to look like that gangly seventh grader again… at least on the inside…

After a few minutes pass, Grace says, “I just thought I should tell you. Maybe you should just make a regular ponytail next time”
And I think for just a moment and then put my happy Mommy voice into action and reply, “It’s OK. Just remind me not to do it that way again.”

And Grace is happy…

And if Grace is happy, then I’m happy…

But it’s kind of a process for me to work through…

Am I going to regret what this cheerleading thing does to my daughter? I don’t think I will if it just comes down to questions like, “How much hair do we pull through the ponytail holder”… but it kind of bothers me that the kid who didn’t care that her clothes didn’t match last week is even thinking about this kind of thing…

Is this all just part of growing up? Maybe I need to do that…

Lisa

New Year...

I don't really have any great assumptions anymore about New Year's Day. Change is not bound by the turning of the calendar. But, traditionally, it's a good time to start fresh... This year, I just want to be the person God wants me to be...


New Year by Charlie Hall:

My heart beats like a drum, flying up with the sun, I grab Your hand again

Renovated with life, my eyes again bright, and You are radiant

Where hope can hold the hand of sorrow and we can walk into tomorrow

Where peace is found in troubled days and the joy of Jesus carries pain

This is a new year, this is new day, to rise shine, lift up your eyes

This is a new year, this is a new day to rise shine,

and point the way to God’s great life

I’m held in a place, a beautiful space where heaven meets the earth

My heart opens wide and the Father pours life deep inside my soul

Where hope can hold the hand of sorrow and we can walk into tomorrow

Where peace is found in troubled days and the joy of Jesus carries pain

This is a new year, this is new day, to rise shine, lift up your eyes

This is a new year, this is a new day to rise shine,

and point the way to God’s great life

Lyrics by Charlie Hall and Kendall Combes

Music by Charlie Hall

© 2007 sixsteps records