I woke up to the sound of the shower. It was a pretty good sleep all things considered. Between my nerves, the strange bed and the other seven girls all in the same hotel room, I wasn’t expecting to get any shut eye at all. It wasn’t until our impromptu trip at midnight to the local Wal-Mart, checking on the boys and another run through of the lighting situation that any of us even thought about actually settling down.
The previous night was quite chilly. Everyone was wearing jackets over their dresses and church shirts. I could only hope that the weather man got my memo pertaining to the exact temperatures and cloud coverage I had requested that day. But more important than anything--it was not allowed to rain. It couldn’t rain. Not on this specific day. Rain would ruin everything!
Once I was awake there was no returning to my slumber. Some of us got up to walk around the establishment, check on the ballroom and see what kind of day we were in for. Did the elements choose to honor my requests?
As I walked down the hall I noticed thick fog. Not a good sign. Then I saw it. Water beating against the window. And lots of it. I stopped in my tracks and said a quiet prayer to myself. “Lord, please, please let the rain stop by this afternoon.” Then as if on command, the window was no longer being drenched. I couldn’t believe it. Just like that. We walked outside to see how bad it really was only to discover that it was a beautiful sunny late September day. The thick decorative film on the windows had made the sky look foggy. The water was from the sprinkling system. I was so thankful for both.
The rest of the day went as expected. We set up the chairs for the outdoor ceremony. The girls and I went to have our hair done. The boys went to lunch. I put on the most beautiful dress I have ever seen in my life. The flowers were delivered and set in their places. We took thousands and thousands of pictures. We all met in the family room to pray while the multitude of guests made their way to their seats. The music began playing and a hush fell over the yard.
First down the grassy path were the boys in their very handsome looking tuxedos and maroon vests. Then walked in Matt wearing his gold one. Then came the pretty girls all lined up in a row. They had on maroon gowns with spaghetti straps and a shawl carrying star-gazer lilies and pink alstrumeriums. Next, was my turn. I just remember smiling until I thought my face was going to freeze like that. My maternal grandmother grabbed my arm on cue and away we went. Down that aisle to the new future that awaited me.
It was a beautiful ceremony with a beautiful backdrop of the beautiful lake on a beautiful day. But I knew it would be. God wasn’t going to rain on my parade or even on my wedding day.
Happy Anniversary Matt. Nine down. Only 41 to go. May the next nine be even more wonderful and exciting than the last have been.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The Straw
Ever had one of those days? The kind of day when everything seems to go wrong. The alarm clock got set for 6:00 PM instead of AM. The kids didn’t want to get out of bed. The dog broke through the gate and is out in the neighborhood somewhere. The dryer didn’t run a complete cycle and the clothes you had picked out for the day are still wet and smelling quite moldy.
Things don’t seem to get any better. The baby’s diaper exploded and you have a poopy messy to clean off the entire crib. The older kids take 20 minutes to locate their shoes which causes them to miss the bus. On your way out the door your neighbor calls for the third time that week to say her cat escaped and can’t get out of the tree.
You make it to school with the children who have waited until then to tell you that they forgot their lunch boxes on the kitchen counter. While you are at home retrieving the noontime meals the phone rings. You pick up the receiver simply out of habit only to learn that one more person needs one more thing. And this is how your day goes.
So by 10:00 you decide that a extra large sweet tea from McDonald’s is in order for you to make it through the rest of your day. You place your order and while anxiously anticipating your mid-morning refreshment you vow that the rest of the day is going to be better. It can’t get much worse. But once you leave the establishment you discover that they forgot your straw.
That’s it!!! You have had enough! You promptly march in to the manager and let them know in no uncertain terms--in a voice loud enough for every customer to hear-- how inconsiderate and unprofessional the employee was who packaged your order. Once the missing straw is rightfully shoved into your cup you start crying and leave hastily in embarrassment.
Not that I have ever had a day like that.
Just remember when you see someone having a fit, throwing a tantrum, crying or getting angry over a missing straw remember it’s just the one that broke her camel’s back. Maybe her kids missed the bus.
Things don’t seem to get any better. The baby’s diaper exploded and you have a poopy messy to clean off the entire crib. The older kids take 20 minutes to locate their shoes which causes them to miss the bus. On your way out the door your neighbor calls for the third time that week to say her cat escaped and can’t get out of the tree.
You make it to school with the children who have waited until then to tell you that they forgot their lunch boxes on the kitchen counter. While you are at home retrieving the noontime meals the phone rings. You pick up the receiver simply out of habit only to learn that one more person needs one more thing. And this is how your day goes.
So by 10:00 you decide that a extra large sweet tea from McDonald’s is in order for you to make it through the rest of your day. You place your order and while anxiously anticipating your mid-morning refreshment you vow that the rest of the day is going to be better. It can’t get much worse. But once you leave the establishment you discover that they forgot your straw.
That’s it!!! You have had enough! You promptly march in to the manager and let them know in no uncertain terms--in a voice loud enough for every customer to hear-- how inconsiderate and unprofessional the employee was who packaged your order. Once the missing straw is rightfully shoved into your cup you start crying and leave hastily in embarrassment.
Not that I have ever had a day like that.
Just remember when you see someone having a fit, throwing a tantrum, crying or getting angry over a missing straw remember it’s just the one that broke her camel’s back. Maybe her kids missed the bus.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Here Comes Three
With teething, toilet training and tantrums it doesn’t take much to know how the term “terrible two’s” got its name.
But by the time my third child went through this dreaded stage, God must have given me an extra dose of mercy. We really didn’t have any of the stereotypical situations. Her baby teeth coming in have never caused us any problems or late nights. She even got an A+ from the dentist on her first visit. She potty trained herself. (Because when would I have the time?) And her tantrum tendencies are usually a pouty face and sad puppy dog eyes. (Which, by the way, my young readers, will get you further than any public outburst of complaining ever will.)
Quite frankly she is a delight. When we were pregnant with her we struggled immensely with naming her. After many debates, discussions, and compromises we finally settled on the legal first name which both of our maternal grandmothers but neither of them use. (Seemed almost obvious really.) Then a dear friend suggested Joy as a middle name. We didn’t like it but looking back (if we had known then what we know now…) the adjective middle name fits her perfectly. She is our joy.
She helps in the garden. She wants to do dishes. She puts her shoes away without having to be told. She rarely complains. She obeys way more than her older counterparts ever did or do. When you ask her for a kiss she says, “Only if I can give you a kiss and a hug too.” She makes me smile. She makes everyone smile.
No, there was nothing “terrible” about her being two. But, I have been around enough children to know that the ”terrible two’s” are only followed by the “horrible three’s”. But maybe, just maybe, God will keep shining his light of mercy upon me and the coming year will be just as enjoyable as the past one was. History tells me it will be.
Happy Third Birthday, Elizabeth (Joy) Rose!! We love you very much. Thank you for making our lives as pleasant as they are. May your demeanor continue to develop as it is. You are a wonderful blessing.
But by the time my third child went through this dreaded stage, God must have given me an extra dose of mercy. We really didn’t have any of the stereotypical situations. Her baby teeth coming in have never caused us any problems or late nights. She even got an A+ from the dentist on her first visit. She potty trained herself. (Because when would I have the time?) And her tantrum tendencies are usually a pouty face and sad puppy dog eyes. (Which, by the way, my young readers, will get you further than any public outburst of complaining ever will.)
Quite frankly she is a delight. When we were pregnant with her we struggled immensely with naming her. After many debates, discussions, and compromises we finally settled on the legal first name which both of our maternal grandmothers but neither of them use. (Seemed almost obvious really.) Then a dear friend suggested Joy as a middle name. We didn’t like it but looking back (if we had known then what we know now…) the adjective middle name fits her perfectly. She is our joy.
She helps in the garden. She wants to do dishes. She puts her shoes away without having to be told. She rarely complains. She obeys way more than her older counterparts ever did or do. When you ask her for a kiss she says, “Only if I can give you a kiss and a hug too.” She makes me smile. She makes everyone smile.
No, there was nothing “terrible” about her being two. But, I have been around enough children to know that the ”terrible two’s” are only followed by the “horrible three’s”. But maybe, just maybe, God will keep shining his light of mercy upon me and the coming year will be just as enjoyable as the past one was. History tells me it will be.
Happy Third Birthday, Elizabeth (Joy) Rose!! We love you very much. Thank you for making our lives as pleasant as they are. May your demeanor continue to develop as it is. You are a wonderful blessing.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Casting Crowns
We proudly display them on when we are dropping off our children at school. We carry them into the grocery store. We show them off to our friends and acquaintances. But most importantly we never ever go to church without them.
What is it? Our masks. The fake facade that we put on to make the world think that we have it all together. That we are infallible. Perfect. Flawless. And when asked how we are doing we always answer, “Great!”. Even though it's more than likely a lie.
One of my favorite bands, Casting Crowns, has a song about this phenomenon appropriately titled, Stained Glass Masquerade. It a song about how we go about our days wearing our masks so that no one really knows what is going on in our lives. As if we have it all together. And if anyone knew differently they would love us less.
The verse that rips me to shreds is:
The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart
Growing up in an abusive home, I learned quickly to learn my lines and hide the truth. The things that went on behind closed doors were never to be discussed in public. In addition to hiding everything from friends and strangers, I was not able to have my own opinion amongst my family. We were given orders. We followed them. Or else. It wasn’t until I was alone with no one watching or within anyone’s earshot did I sob and cry and really fall apart.
When I made the conscience decision to stop this cycle of abuse, I vowed that never again would I hold back my opinion. My feelings. My attitude. My mood. I wouldn’t have rehearsed lines, excuses, or lies to remember. I could be me and that was that.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I have since learned everyone hides things. It may not be as bad as abuse. It may even be worse. But whatever it is, we feel the need to keep things to ourselves. We wouldn’t want anyone to know we aren’t perfect.
It is extremely difficult for me to strap on that mask everyday. To hide what I am really feeling. To not show loved ones that I am hurt, sad or even rejoicing. To not make comments, either beneficial or disruptive. To just sit quietly while looking forward to when it will be all over and I can just be myself.
You have no idea how badly I wish we didn’t have to hide our true identities. That we didn’t have to keep up the appearance of perfection. That we could finally come to the realization that we all have problems, bad days, strong opinions and issues.
But we do. So the things I want to know is the same thing Casting Crowns asks us…
But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be
Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay
Listen to the entire song at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRUJrjUGGfg
What is it? Our masks. The fake facade that we put on to make the world think that we have it all together. That we are infallible. Perfect. Flawless. And when asked how we are doing we always answer, “Great!”. Even though it's more than likely a lie.
One of my favorite bands, Casting Crowns, has a song about this phenomenon appropriately titled, Stained Glass Masquerade. It a song about how we go about our days wearing our masks so that no one really knows what is going on in our lives. As if we have it all together. And if anyone knew differently they would love us less.
The verse that rips me to shreds is:
The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart
Growing up in an abusive home, I learned quickly to learn my lines and hide the truth. The things that went on behind closed doors were never to be discussed in public. In addition to hiding everything from friends and strangers, I was not able to have my own opinion amongst my family. We were given orders. We followed them. Or else. It wasn’t until I was alone with no one watching or within anyone’s earshot did I sob and cry and really fall apart.
When I made the conscience decision to stop this cycle of abuse, I vowed that never again would I hold back my opinion. My feelings. My attitude. My mood. I wouldn’t have rehearsed lines, excuses, or lies to remember. I could be me and that was that.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I have since learned everyone hides things. It may not be as bad as abuse. It may even be worse. But whatever it is, we feel the need to keep things to ourselves. We wouldn’t want anyone to know we aren’t perfect.
It is extremely difficult for me to strap on that mask everyday. To hide what I am really feeling. To not show loved ones that I am hurt, sad or even rejoicing. To not make comments, either beneficial or disruptive. To just sit quietly while looking forward to when it will be all over and I can just be myself.
You have no idea how badly I wish we didn’t have to hide our true identities. That we didn’t have to keep up the appearance of perfection. That we could finally come to the realization that we all have problems, bad days, strong opinions and issues.
But we do. So the things I want to know is the same thing Casting Crowns asks us…
But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be
Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay
Listen to the entire song at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRUJrjUGGfg
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June 2010
Four little monkies all lined up in a row!