I Love the Little Joys of the Christmas Season

What does it say about you if you REALLY want to play with the toys you are wrapping? What if you are the mom and the toys are NERF and Star Wars? ;)

Added note: Holiday Goldfish are almost as cool as other little Christmas joys like Little Debbie tree cakes! (especially when you are taking care of a feverish boy and you both need a little fun)

With Age Comes....Humor?!?!?!?

I have several friends who joke about not aging past 39, some past 29. And I have to admit, looking too long in the mirror and discovering the wrinkles and the gray hair is a little disconcerting. As well as watching friends and even my parents age. But in watching the boys, their friends, and some of my "speechies", I have come to a realization that with age also comes humor and joy. Doing the joke of the day clued me in to just how much Dax and Cole have not developed the life experience to understand some of the comparisons or play on words needed to get a joke. It also clued me in to how much more they knew that I had not realized they knew. Sarcasm and humor are developing within a little girl with whom I am working and beginning to drive her parents and siblings crazy because she does not quite know how to use it, but directing them to steer her in appropriate forms of humor have really helped the whole family. We have some other friends who have entered the Knock-Knock stage of life (their girls are 3 & 5) and have now banned them because of their overwhelming frequency, moving on to other joking methods. All of this to say, I have realized there are things that are hilarious to me at 32 that might have made me hide away and cry at 25. So in this life, where there is trouble, God gives us the ability to laugh and I am grateful. Not only does he give us the ability to laugh, he also uses the trouble to make the laughter times that much better. I choose to age and go past 39 with gusto, smile hard so there are thousands of wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, and get rid of all the mirrors in my house (o.k. maybe that is going a little too far!!)

"Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." Proverbs 16:31

"..decay crept into my bones, ...yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyfully in God my Savior." - Habakkuk 3:4 ( I want this, I choose this, but only He can succeed this in me.)

Your Eyes

My newest favorite song is "Give me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath. I definately need His eyes for others but in listening to it in carline alone awaiting Colton pick-up, as He gave me what I prayed for, He also directed my gaze a little differently. I have been pretty down on my external appearance and a few other things lately, but He helped me see that I am one of those "humanity" that I want to love with His love.

Complaining vs. praising--being positive

I have in the last few months been attempting to go against the grain of the world and praise more instead of complaining. I have seldom been one who went to the customer services department often or sent orders back in restaurants because I haven't been one to even really speak my mind when irritated. I don't want to offend or engage in conflict, but I haven't actively praised or noted when someone did a good job.

It started at the bank when a drive thru teller remembered that I had two boys and asked if they wanted me to bring them suckers when theywere not with me and I was driving the X-terra (David's usual mode of transportation). See, I had that in Wetumpka, but not in Auburn or Orting or Millbrook or Cumming. So I called her supervisor and let her know!!!! Then we were switching garbage carriers so we would not have to take our can all the way to the end of our lane; found one that came down to our driveway. I got so aggrivated with our former garbage service during this process, but I called and left a thankful message with the new one instead because of the way they were handling us with care. This has continued at the store, returned to the bank and flowed into a couple of restaurants who have served me and my two testosterone filled children. I have enjoyed it immensely until I received a gently prod in the heart a couple of days ago that doing it in the outside world is good but how about at home? Once again He caught me in my self-adoration and gave me His glimpse. I want to do this more with David and the boys and so I am TRYING to go into my days (only last two) looking for things to praise and thank, because I think I had taken up residency in their "customer service departments" with my white gloves on waiting to motivate and correct.

Walking at a cemetary

There is a cemetary near Colton's preschool with a nicely paved road through it and to save time and gas while getting some excercise, I have walked there several times recently while he is in school. For some, walking in a cemetary would be wierd and possibly spooky but elderly people have been a large part of my entire life therefore making funerals and cemetary visits regular as well. This particular cemetary intrigues me. For many newer ones, there are rules that must be followed as to what type of headstone is allowed; what flowers are recommended; etc. --much like H.O.A.s. Those are good keeping everything cared for and uniform. But here it is well-kept but allows so much variety. There are headstones of all sizes from tall statues to simple flat markers, from the Civil War soldier markers to wide marble monuments covering entire families. I also love that they are allowed to have hanging baskets on curved stakes or solor powered light stakes or potted plants - pretty much whatever is wanted. One even has a stone bench signifying pretty frequent and long visiting to the place by a loved one. Each one is a celebration of the life that once inhabited the empty body beneath as well as the lives of the generations in which that life invested its earthly time. Cemetaries have stories to tell that are often missed in the hustle and bustle of life. Some are of sadness and loss of early life like that of entire family killed in a train wreck in 1964 (both parents and 5 kids ranging from 16 yrs. old to toddler age). Other stories are of love and memories. One quote I saw stated: "Memories of the past shall stay to bring joy despite the sorrow."

Books

I found out what I could have been when I grew up. I am not sure why it has taken me 32 years to realize that I would have loved this profession. It obviously is not one that would financially fulfill but it hit me on Wednesday when I volunteered at Dax's school. With Colton's schedule altared this week, I went in to help out the librarian (media director) set up for the book fair. For one, I love books!!! I love libraries!!! I LOVE BOOK FAIRS!!!! So she showed me how to help the children sort the books upon return to make reshelving easier and oversee them during checkout. I also sorted the posters and numbered them for checkout. I had forgotten about the posters !!The books and pens and fun erasers I remembered! The other fun stuff was not there: the software, the activities, the games! I know I didn't see the difficult parts of the job; when the books come back beaten or when someone takes you for granted. But to connect something I love so much with kids like that; watching their little faces light up when the book they want is on the shelf just waiting to go with them on an adventure and carry them away to another place. Wow!

What if?

If the "church" is most lived out at certain buildings at certain times of the week with certain groups, what happens if someone comes in and decrees that we cannot go to those places, open those doors, or participate in those practices? What will happen to her?

Trust

(Been in shutdown a few weeks, as well as adjusting to new role as "chauffeur" with both boys attending some type of school- complete with volunteering, signing papers, emptying folders, packing lunches and snacks, doing laundry, making sure we dress in the right color on the right day, and so many more amazing things.)



I observed a situation on the playground one day while waiting for Dax in the carline. It must have been at least two weeks ago but I haven't been able to shake the image and processing it has churned up a list of questions within me. One little girl (4th or 5th grade) approached a "friend" and obviously convinced her to play the Trust Fall game where one person falls and the other catches. The initiator fell back and was faithfuflly caught. Then they switched. The former catcher proceeded to fall completely settled in the knowledge that she too would be caught (I have to interject I was more confident in her ability to be caught for she was smaller in stature -neither was what I would call big though). However, the initiator of the game exaggeratedly stepped aside at the last moment allowing her former catcher to fall to the ground while she laughed at her. The fallen didn't appear to be physically hurt, but her body language told volumes from her heart. She didn't show anger but confusion and embarassment. There were 50 or so feet, a small garden of sorts, a fence, and my car door separating us but I felt the whole thing too. I don't ever remember playing the game and being dropped but I have been metaphorically dropped a few times in the past 32 years.

The initial questions were: "What makes some be the dropper and some be the droppee? Is it personality: one is a comedian without feelings and one is a sensitive, gullible, wimpy "wuss" (me hanging out in the wuss category)? These stayed with the image for days and I would ponder them, and examine them to no avail with no answer or confirmation to be found.

The past day or so though, others have joined in and had more of a resounding effect: What makes one trust? Is it innocently there in all of us in the beginning and then chiseled away with life? What had the initiator experienced that drove her to act out in such a way? What would the "fallen one" do the next time a trust opportunity presented itself? How do I respond when trust opportunities are presented and do I do or inflict anything on others out of my distrust scars? Are we supposed to be able to trust in eachother as brothers and sisters? Is trust a piece of Eden that remained through the Fall? If so, how do we protect it, compelling ourselves to trust and trust again as well as be trustworthy?

I found in interesting that my NCV Concordance addressed trust as "a duty" listing Luke 16:11, 1 Corinthians 4:2, Titus 2:10.
The verse that resounded within my own scarred heart was Romans 10:11 which sums up who we are to put ultimate trust in above everything and everyone: "As the Scripture says, 'Anyone who trusts in him [Jesus] will never be disappointed." (quoting Isaiah 28:16)