Do you ever have a change in plans? I planned to have a good day today. I planned to choose joy. I planned to write an entry tonight about joy. But along the way my plans changed.
My day started off good, but my good mood quickly faded after I let self-doubt creep in. I chose joy until the afternoon wall of fatigue stopped me in my tracks.
My blog entry changed when writer's block kicked in. (And more self-doubt. )
Then a little boy decided to help me type.
Isn't it funny how the smallest things can cause a day to take a completely different direction?
Kids have a way of doing that. I really thought our family was complete until I was completely surprised one November night when I saw two lines instead of one on a pregnancy test. I laughed for almost an hour. It was not a giddy, little school girl laughter but a "you have got to be kidding me" laughter. Having another child was not on our radar. But for some reason, God knew we needed another child.
So, our plans changed. We began preparing our lives for another child. But nothing could have prepared us for this precious little boy.
Little man has brought an abundance of laughter into our lives - from the very moment I found out about him.
He is all boy. He loves tractors, helicopters and firetrucks. He loves being loud, playing outside and going fast. This week alone he has been a baby froggy, a baby alligator, a monkey, Caillou, Spiderman and Woody. He climbs on anything and everything. He giggles when he toots. He loves to sing and make people laugh. He melts my heart when he asks, "Mommy, you lay down with me please?"
So, again, my plans change. Instead of finishing the dishes in the sink, I fall asleep singing "Twinkle, twinkle little star" to my baby boy. I know it will only be a matter time that this will change too. One day he will be too big for me to carry him to bed. One day he will no longer ask me to lay down with him at night. But until that time, I will cherish each moment with the little man who changed our plans.
Boy am I glad he did.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Lingering
I've been reading a book lately. I have had it for a few years now. Just never made the time to read it. But, in starting a new bedtime routine with the kids, I found myself reading rather than turning on the television.
The book is called "The Lazarus Life: Spiritual Transformation for Ordinary People" by Stephen W. Smith. I am not far into the book but I am already starting to see a lesson emerging. We must be patient in our lives, our situations, our troubles and allow God to work.
In the first chapter or two, Smith talks about how even though Jesus knew Lazarus was on his death bed, Jesus lingered a bit longer at his location. He didn't rush back to see Lazarus the way I am sure Mary and Martha had hoped Jesus would when he received the news of Lazarus' state. No, he "lingered."
Think about the word ... linger. Just the way it draws itself out when you say it...linger. It is almost like it is designed to annoy!
I am not good at patience or lingering. In our microwave, fast-food lifestyle, every thing MUST BE DONE THIS INSTANT! Am I not right? I mean, we now have DVRs so we can watch shows without commercials and on OUR schedule. We have Netflix that eliminates the need to go to the movie store. We have fancy coffee machines that brew café style drinks within minutes. We want what we want and we want it now.
How many times in your life have you screamed at God ... "Why are you not helping me? Why are you not answering my prayers?" I know I have. At some points, it was a daily occurrence.
We expect God to answer our prayers in OUR instant universe. But it is not about our timing...it is about His. He is not instantaneous, because He not impulsive. He lingers. And why? Because while we are looking at this second, this minute, this hour, this day, this week or even this month, He sees the big picture. He knows the ending. While we are focused on the details of the situation in front of us, He is working in many different ways so that when He does reveal to us the answer to our prayers, it will bless us even more than we could ever imagine. Trust me .... or better yet, trust Him.
The book is called "The Lazarus Life: Spiritual Transformation for Ordinary People" by Stephen W. Smith. I am not far into the book but I am already starting to see a lesson emerging. We must be patient in our lives, our situations, our troubles and allow God to work.
In the first chapter or two, Smith talks about how even though Jesus knew Lazarus was on his death bed, Jesus lingered a bit longer at his location. He didn't rush back to see Lazarus the way I am sure Mary and Martha had hoped Jesus would when he received the news of Lazarus' state. No, he "lingered."
Think about the word ... linger. Just the way it draws itself out when you say it...linger. It is almost like it is designed to annoy!
I am not good at patience or lingering. In our microwave, fast-food lifestyle, every thing MUST BE DONE THIS INSTANT! Am I not right? I mean, we now have DVRs so we can watch shows without commercials and on OUR schedule. We have Netflix that eliminates the need to go to the movie store. We have fancy coffee machines that brew café style drinks within minutes. We want what we want and we want it now.
How many times in your life have you screamed at God ... "Why are you not helping me? Why are you not answering my prayers?" I know I have. At some points, it was a daily occurrence.
We expect God to answer our prayers in OUR instant universe. But it is not about our timing...it is about His. He is not instantaneous, because He not impulsive. He lingers. And why? Because while we are looking at this second, this minute, this hour, this day, this week or even this month, He sees the big picture. He knows the ending. While we are focused on the details of the situation in front of us, He is working in many different ways so that when He does reveal to us the answer to our prayers, it will bless us even more than we could ever imagine. Trust me .... or better yet, trust Him.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Why a blog?
Do you ever have times in your life when you know you could be doing more but you are not really sure what "more" is? I have been struggling with the feeling of doing more for quite some time now. Am I doing what I am called to do? Or, more importantly, what is my calling?
As a child, I had dreams of being a lawyer or a doctor - doesn't everyone? But sometime around fourth grade, my true calling became clear. I am a reporter. I love to know EVERYTHING and want to be the ONE in the know. Plus, I love sharing what I know with anyone and everyone who will listen some days. I stared to develop my writing skills in high school as a part of my high school newspaper. I perfected my craft in college while contributing to the great - and award-winning I might add - Omnibus. I loved spending time in the newsroom covering this week's breaking story (sod-gate anyone?) or even just putting together the week's sports pages. It was a rush to pick this story or that story for people to read. It was an even bigger rush to see people walking through the union reading the stories I wrote.
After college, I continued my journalism career and thought for sure I would be in the newspaper business for life. But, then I started a family and it was getting harder and harder to leave them at night to cover my beat. And, the perfectionist inside of me was starting to struggle with the constant questioning from the public that comes with the community newspaper. I used to love publication day when the paper hit the news rack and to see people stopping by at 5 a.m. to pick up this week's edition. But, then the calls would start. "You left this out." "Why was this picture on the front page and not the story about my granddaughter?" I got to the point that I cringed each time the phone rang for fears of something else I did wrong. Don't get me wrong I know you can't please everyone, but some days, when the "There was a mistake" outnumber the "Thank Yous" it is hard. So, when a door opened in another passion of mine - education - I took the leap and hung up my reporter's cap and pen.
But now this feeling of doing more and being creative again is overwhelming my spirit. What is that still, small voice deep-down telling me to do? I think this blog is the answer.
I quit writing because I was afraid I wasn’t good at it. Criticism did not sit well with me and I said forget it. Now it is time for me to write again. I feel good about this. I feel like I have some things to share. God would not have given me this ability if he didn’t want me to use it.
What is your calling? What talents or abilities has God blessed you with? Are you using them?
As a child, I had dreams of being a lawyer or a doctor - doesn't everyone? But sometime around fourth grade, my true calling became clear. I am a reporter. I love to know EVERYTHING and want to be the ONE in the know. Plus, I love sharing what I know with anyone and everyone who will listen some days. I stared to develop my writing skills in high school as a part of my high school newspaper. I perfected my craft in college while contributing to the great - and award-winning I might add - Omnibus. I loved spending time in the newsroom covering this week's breaking story (sod-gate anyone?) or even just putting together the week's sports pages. It was a rush to pick this story or that story for people to read. It was an even bigger rush to see people walking through the union reading the stories I wrote.
After college, I continued my journalism career and thought for sure I would be in the newspaper business for life. But, then I started a family and it was getting harder and harder to leave them at night to cover my beat. And, the perfectionist inside of me was starting to struggle with the constant questioning from the public that comes with the community newspaper. I used to love publication day when the paper hit the news rack and to see people stopping by at 5 a.m. to pick up this week's edition. But, then the calls would start. "You left this out." "Why was this picture on the front page and not the story about my granddaughter?" I got to the point that I cringed each time the phone rang for fears of something else I did wrong. Don't get me wrong I know you can't please everyone, but some days, when the "There was a mistake" outnumber the "Thank Yous" it is hard. So, when a door opened in another passion of mine - education - I took the leap and hung up my reporter's cap and pen.
But now this feeling of doing more and being creative again is overwhelming my spirit. What is that still, small voice deep-down telling me to do? I think this blog is the answer.
I quit writing because I was afraid I wasn’t good at it. Criticism did not sit well with me and I said forget it. Now it is time for me to write again. I feel good about this. I feel like I have some things to share. God would not have given me this ability if he didn’t want me to use it.
What is your calling? What talents or abilities has God blessed you with? Are you using them?
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