September 22: You're Exactly Where You're Supposed to Be

Do you ever feel like you're behind in life? Like you need to hurry and catch up to where you think you should be, usually compared to where others are? 

Like you should've accomplished more by now, or you thought your life would look different at this point. Or better. And you start to get down on yourself and feel like a failure.

What if you're exactly where you're supposed to be at this point in time? 

Not a second early, not a minute too late. Exactly where you're supposed to be. So-and-so might be over there or maybe they've accomplished much, but they're not YOU. And God has His own unique plan for your life. Not to be a copy, duplicate, or replica of someone else. 

Because the time God spends preparing you for what you're supposed to do is just as important as you doing what it is you're supposed to do. It develops character. And perseverance. And endurance. 

And just think about how much more you can observe the terrain and your surroundings and all the beautiful scenery when you walk at a leisurely stroll versus a hurried sprint. Because if you rush by, you'll miss the most important stuff. Sure, it may ultimately take longer to get there, but just imagine how much you'll get to see. How much you'll learn along the way. The life and beauty you'll get to experience.

Because His time isn't our time, but He has made everything beautiful in it's time {Ecc. 3:11}. And when you finally get there, you won't be exhausted and out of breath. You'll be ready to finally finish well because you fully experienced the joy of the journey. 

September 19: I Found Jesus at a Garage Sale

I talked to a guy named Eagle about a stove today.


We proceeded to have a rather interesting conversation about home repairs (his occupation), supplies and cars being burglarized (his experiences), garages (his very large one), and the right (again, his) to carry arms and hold home invaders at gunpoint and tell said burglars that next time the phone call would be to the coroner instead of the police. Perhaps the word "conversation" was the wrong choice…


So I gave him a really good deal on the stove.


Being on the selling side of a garage sale is completely different then being on the buying side. It's not only a lot of work for the seller to round everything up, haul it out, set it up, price it and make it look appealing, but you're at quite a disadvantage financially. Putting up a garage sale sign is the equivalent of saying to the general public: "Come pay us money for our useless crap that we would otherwise donate to charity or put on the curb… for free."


And experienced garage salers know this. Heck, everybody probably knows this.


And the only reason that we intelligent sellers continue to go through the charade is for exactly the same reason--to make a couple bucks from our used and now useless items. Beggars can't be choosers, so sadly, we have to take what we can get. We are at the mercy of the buyers, who are usually as shrewd as they are quirky. If their items total $8.75 and they hand you $9.00, you will never hear "keep the change." Every quarter counts, and you better believe they'll be wanting theirs back.


One by one as the items get snatched up and leave for $0.50, a dollar or two, $5 here and there if you're really lucky, the disparity between what you paid for them and what they're "worth" now becomes glaringly clear, and depressing. I learned that difficult lesson at my garage sale last year when I tried to sell a big, colorful, modern framed print that I'd bought from Target for $98. I thought I liked the modern look and was committed to decorating our house that way, so I "invested" in this nice print to tie the living room together. I also bought a colorful, abstract area rug for well over $200 to go with it.


And then I changed my mind.


I realized that the vintage, unique feel of Shabby Chic-like decor was more "me," so we decided to sell our gently used but still in good condition modern decor items. The area rug sold for a mere $25 after some negotiating, and I couldn't get anyone to buy the print for even $5. One lady tried but it wouldn't fit in her car. So she offered an apology and wanted a refund. We ended up giving it away.


Ouch. Expensive mistake.


And then there are items that we did like and used for a time but have no need for anymore, like a nice set of curtains from Target that matched the carpet in our old house. Easily $25 a panel at the store, I tried to sell them both for $20 at the garage sale today. I thought that was a steal. The woman replied, "$20?? Oh honey, not at a garage sale… That's too much. You're trying to get rid of stuff, you know? You gotta price it to sell. I got some yesterday at another sale and I only paid $0.50/panel. How about $5?"


For….both of them???


As I watched this and other items slip out of my fingers for a mere fraction of what I paid for them, and probably less then what they're worth, an inevitable sinking feeling accumulated in my gut. On one hand it's nice to get rid of things and clear out the clutter, but on the other hand, you really thought your stuff would be worth more… You hoped it would be worth more, because it was to you when you bought it. After all, you paid full price.

And I found myself wondering this afternoon, as my shallow heart sank once again over the depreciation of yet another material good, if the Lord ever feels the same way about us.


Is He ever saddened by the return on His investment? Does His heart ever sink when we sell out, when we chase idols, when we squander our potential instead of following Him? It must, because He knows we are worth more. We were made for more. You see, He paid full price, too. Not just full price, the ultimate price--it cost Him his very life.


His life for ours. For yours. For mine.

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. 
Romans 12:1

Our only reasonable response to this great sacrifice would be to do the same--a life for a life. Take your everyday, ordinary life and place it before God as an offering. And I don't know about you, but I fail at this Every. Single. Day. Sometimes every minute. But I'm thankful that His yoke is easy and His burden is light, and that He's on my side. That His mercies are new every morning. And if the God of the Universe is for us, who can stand against us?? {Romans 8:31}

For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth 

to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him. 

2 Chronicles 16:9

September 17: God Doesn't Have to Guess How Many Jellybeans Are in the Jar

So... I haven't written a lot lately. 

Obviously. 

The truth is, I've been feeling a little sad. Maybe because I haven't been writing, or maybe I haven't been writing because I've been sad {chicken? egg?}. Who knows really. 

But life is just like that sometimes, I suppose. Some days you keep spilling your cereal & even Facebook thinks you don't have any friends. Sometimes life is a mess & so are you. 

And sometimes you're standing in a hot shower after a long day & an even longer week, looking down at all the hair accumulating in the drain {because what else do you do standing in the shower by yourself while listening to Christmas music}, & you remember that...

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 

Don't be afraid; you are worth more then many sparrows.

Luke 12:7

And you think about all those "guess how many jellybeans are in the jar" games you've played over the years and how much you SUCK at that kind of thing and never come close to the actual number contained inside, thus losing the contest. Every. Time. 

And it's the same problem: you always largely underestimate the sheer number of little tiny beans crammed into the jar. And some poor sap had to count them all to begin with, and probably count them again, just to make sure. They have to know. Because someone {not you} will guess a large, obscure number ending in an odd digit and somehow be right on the money, so the count has to be correct down to the very last bean. 

And you look at all that hair in the drain & realize if you had to guess how many were there that you would undoubtably lose, because there's surely more hair down there then you would think. 

And then the crazy thought hits you that God must know. He would have to. Because if he knows the number of hairs on my head, he must keep a current count. He knows how many there are now & how many I've lost along the way. Today. Yesterday. My entire life. 

And God doesn't even have to guess. He knows. 

He knows.

He doesn't have to estimate. Or hypothesize. 

He knows.

He doesn't underestimate. Or miscalculate. Or mess up.

He just knows.

And the God of the universe, who knows the number of hairs in my drain and the number still on my head, says DON'T BE AFRAID.

I've got this.

I've got you. 

I can handle it. 

I know. 

You don't need to try to guess correctly, because I already know. I've always known. 

Don't be afraid; you are worth more...

September 12: Joy is Found in the Present

I was tired this afternoon, and when I laid down on the couch for a bit, the kids proceeded to put stickers on my "booty." Their idea, of course. Toby said, "Eva, Momma's booty looks so beautiful, doesn't it?" She said "ya."

Children are not a distraction from more important work. They are the most important work. 

~C. S. Lewis

Today, I played with my children.


Now, you might look at my days in photos or my life as a whole and think, well, duh. You're a stay-at-home mom. Like, everyday. Of course you play with your kids.


But the truth is, I usually don't. What's more is I don't really like to. Really at all.


A lot of the time I let them play with toys on the floor while I fold the laundry or let them create with the Play-doh at the kitchen table while I do the dishes or let them run around outside while I am busy with something else. I don't really play with them, rather I'm productive alongside them. Or I'm unproductive, checking Facebook or Instagram or the like.

Usually I'm distracted, thinking about all the things I need to do around the house, or I'm plugged into my phone. Usually I'm self-absorbed, thinking about what I want to do or read or work on. But today was different.


Today I watched two episodes of Sesame Street without checking Facebook. Without picking up my phone at all, really. I actually watched it. I learned about words like "prickly" and "soggy." I feel educated.


Then Toby and I played catch with a football. In the house. And he loved it. He went down for his nap asking if we could please please do that again later. And we laughed and ate lunch together and did piggy-back rides and played Play-doh, and not once did I think about all the things I should be doing {although there were many} or what I would rather be doing instead.


And what I found today was that all the distractions and the should do's and the ought to's and the selfish groans {even the silent ones} that emerge from the "broken wanter" that lies deep inside only serve to steal our joy. Joy that is found by being present. In the present. Right were we are at this moment in time.


It's easy to be thankful for where you are if you're not wishing you were somewhere else.


It's easy to be grateful for who you're with if you're not thinking about being with someone else.


It's easy to live in the present if you really take the time to look at it, experience it, and breathe it all in, rather then allowing distraction to steal the very life out from under you.


When I slowed down and actually allowed myself to be there, all there, in that moment with who I was with, doing what I was doing, I found that I actually do enjoy playing with my kids. I enjoy helping them learn, making them laugh. And perhaps, all this time, I've been too preoccupied to notice that.


Maybe surrendering to the Lord is as much about surrendering who you are as it is about surrendering where you are at this very moment it time. You have to lay them both down, simultaneously. And therein lies joy. And peace. And life.

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him.

Romans 12:1 (MSG)

August 21: Mother of the Year: First Day of School Edition

Have I mentioned before that I'm the Mother of the Year? I think I may have

once

or

twice

.

Now that I have that title, though, I need to make sure I do my darndest to live up to it, you know? Let me just tell you, it's 

hard work.

 Grueling, tedious, hard work on my part. And we all know how I feel about that 

working hard stuff.

I wanted to write this post today for all of you out there who have ever looked at me and thought,

wow

. I mean, just,

WOW

. She is

so great

. She's like,

the best mom ever

. Hence, Mother of the Year.

So let me just explain for a moment what the first day of school looks like when you're the Mother of the Year. We shall start at the beginning:

1. Be in complete denial that school is actually starting and prepare accordingly, including sleeping in until after 8am all summer.
2. Wait until the day before school to get school shoes for your daughter. Smile through clenched teeth as she picks out the most expensive pair, because all the cute "sale" shoes are practically nonexistent.
3. Tell your son that his shoes from last year are still good. But don't check the size or make sure they still fit before leaving the shoe store. Leave that to chance in the morning.
4. Assume that all their uniform clothes are in good condition and still fit, but don't bother to look at them or have the kids try them on. They have the adjustable waistbands, right? We can just let those suckers out if need be.
5. Have the children set out their uniforms the night before school. This is easy, as the uniforms are still sitting in a messy pile on top of the dresser from last school year because you never "packed them up" for the summer.
6. Pack their lunches the night before, even though the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches will get soggy. You only do this at your husbands request, as he knows your Mother of the Year tendencies in the morning. On your own, however, you wouldn't have bothered with such frivolities.
7. Finally fill out all the school forms the night before after the children have gone to bed. Lament over the fact that mothers have homework before school even starts and the fact that you don't have a glass of wine to sip while filling out said papers.
8. Don't include Emergency Medical Forms in the stack of papers to turn in because you misplaced them. In May. And also, you never scheduled a physical for the kids so the doctor's office could fill out the form. So even if you did find it, you still couldn't turn it in yet.
9. Stay up way too late watching mindless television so that you push the snooze button when your alarm goes off. Twice.
10. Even though you had lunches made already, clothes laid out the night before, and a sweet husband who made breakfast, you still manage to leave about 15 minutes late. But not before you grab your coffee mug and snap the obligatory "first day of school" photo. Priorities, you know.
11. The first day of school photo doesn't have any coordinating chalkboard signs or pictures with mom and dad or the family, however. That would've involved something they call "preparation" and "timeliness." It was more of a "quick stand by the door, now run to the car! We're late!" kind of picture.
12. Make sure to get completely stressed out as you're hurrying everyone to the car, like it's totally their fault you're leaving so late. Yell at your son who isn't buckled up yet.
13. Although you remembered the construction zone on the way to school, you didn't take into account the traffic jam it would create from the morning commute. That would just make too much sense. So you come to a standstill quite a ways from school. You need to be there in 4 minutes.
14. At this point, apologize to your children, as it's obvious that they are going to be late on their first day of school. Explain to them that it takes pure, raw talent to manage to be late on the first day of school, and that somewhere deep down, they should be very proud to have you as a mom.
15. Traffic turns into a detour situation, taking you even farther from the route to school. But never fear--you brought your coffee! You can sit and sip it peacefully while you maneuver through traffic.
16. Finally arrive at school and sign them in 10 minutes late. Although it doesn't escape you that you left your house 15 minutes late, mark TRAFFIC as the reason for tardiness. There was, in fact, TRAFFIC. Lots of traffic.
17. Promise your children as you are walking them to class that you will do better tomorrow, kiss and hug them, and send them on their way.
18. Breathe a sigh of relief. Not only did you succeed in getting them to school, but you managed to live up to your title in the process.

And after all that, I'm exhausted. Like I said, being Mother of the Year is

hard work. 

Now, if you weren't able to live up to this unbelievably high standard on the first day of school, please,

don't beat yourself up

. Sometimes achieving Mother of the Year status happens overnight, and other times, it requires lots of hard work, time, and dedication to the cause.

So seriously, relax. You have the entire school year to get it right.

Here's to the pick-up lines, the homework routine, the earlier bedtimes, and all you other Mothers of the Year out there… and to better tomorrows.

*cheers*

And Happy First Day of School to ya.

If you are a Mother of Year as well or know someone who would enjoy this, pass it on!!