I love me some Chinese Acrobats

You know what they say about life in suburbia. Never a dull moment. And last Saturday was no exception, friends, let me tell you.

I had hinted last week that we were taking our family on a "very special" outing. A cultural experience of sorts. An experience so body-bending and fast-paced that it's hard to even begin to describe.

But I'll try. Because that's what I do.

Are you ready for the suburban thrill of our weekend last weekend?

We took our girls to see the National Acrobats of China. Yep, we do know how to show our girls a good time.

Actually, it WAS a good time. If not a little twisted and weird, but a good time, nevertheless.

The program started out with a bang--16 women holding five sticks of spinning plates in each hand. For ten minutes they spun those little silver plates while standing on each other's shoulders, or doing the splits, or doing a somersault, or forming a pyramid. For about five minutes I believed they were actually spinning the plates; for another five minutes I whispered to my husband, "They're attached. I know they're attached. There's no way they could keep ten plates spinning for that long!"

Unless, of course, they are mothers.

The next "act" was called Hoop Diving--you know, where these men run really fast and throw themselves through a hoop. Then they add another hoop, and another, and another, until the top hoop is about 8 feet high. And they still make it through! While doing flips and such.

Unfortunately, while the hoops were only two levels high one guy missed and knocked the whole thing down. He's probably still cleaning the latrine on the bus for that one.

The entire night was kind of like a circus with acrobats performing stunts I had never seen before. It was colorful, and musical, and fun.

And costumes! Oh my, those Chinese know how to put together a costume! Unfortunately, one act involved martial arts "warriors" running around the stage in very tight spandex outfits that, well, showed every. little. thing.

Here are some of the other highlights of the evening.


Somehow they figured out how to get 16 women on one bicycle. We've decided to ditch the minivan and just go with the bike.


The straw hat juggling was incredibly cute and fun. Those boys do know how to party! At this point in the program, though, Abby said she was craving Bugles. Their straw hats were shaped just like the little corn snacks that we loved to put on our fingers when we were kids (and some of us still do!).


This girl did her entire act balancing on one arm. From a tiny pole. On top of a platform. Oh my gosh, I want arms like hers. Buff, I'm telling you. Buff!

Of course, Abby had to add to the moment by observing that "she must have a really bad wedgie."


But my favorite act of the evening had to be the contortionist. (Hopefully no men are reading this, lest they get some unseemly images in their head.) But I kid you not . . . that girl put her butt on top of her head! (You can't even picture it, can you?) While holding candelabras in each hand. And on each foot. And one in her mouth. It was a sight to behold.

And that's all I have to say about her.

So, never let it be said that we don't treat our kids to some pretty whiz bang cultural experiences.

And now excuse me. I need to go to the gym and work on my arms.

And now, for the RESSSST of the story

When last I left you, we were in the three ring circus that was Maggie’s birth. Moms were drugged, Dads were fainting (“Sue, we have a dad down!”), and nurses were scurrying around trying to hold both of us together.

It really was a mess.

But sweet Maggie was born and, as I told you, I held her for about 30 seconds before the nurses took her from me. Not because I was still sleepy, but because there was a little something going on with her that I was not aware of right away.

Our doctor noticed something ever-so-slightly wrong with the way she was breathing. The nurses didn’t believe him, insisting that she would clear up in a few minutes.

I had never seen a doctor do this before, but he very nearly stomped his foot and yelled at the nurses saying, “NO. We need to get her downstairs. Now.”

The nurses wrapped my newborn and placed her in an isolette and quickly whisked her away.

My fuzzy head cleared quickly and my eyes opened wide as I realized something wasn’t right. Downstairs? What did that mean? Where were they taking her?

“We’re taking her to the NICU,” one of the nurses explained. “Dr. thinks she’s having a little trouble breathing.”

This was serious.

If things were circus-y before, they were all-out chaos at that point.

Maggie was born around 11 p.m., so by now it was literally the middle of the night. We had no family there with us; we felt very much alone. I’m pretty sure that B and I just clung to each other and prayed. Hard.

A few hours later we were able to go see Maggie in the NICU, and here’s what we saw.



In one way it was tragic—all those tubes and wires—and in another way it was very funny to us. Yes, our baby was sick, but she was also 7 pounds, 12 ounces and compared to the other babies in the NICU, she was HUGE.

I held onto that, sensing that her size was an advantage. She was strong, I told myself. She had to make it.

Maggie was born with a pneumothorax which is kind of like a pocket of air that develops around the lung. This then caused a collapsed lung. That then turned into pneumonia. Combine all that with severe jaundice, and you’ve got one sick little girl.


(This is her under the bili lights--don't you love her faceband?!)

Thankfully, within 24 hours the doctors told us she was pretty much out of the woods, but they wanted to keep her there for a while. “A while” turned into seven days.

During those days when Maggie was in the hospital I learned a lot. It seems God is always teaching me to just plain trust Him, and I had to at that point. I couldn’t control Maggie’s health. It was (and is) entirely up to God to decide whether she would live or be healed. It was up to me to decide whether I would trust Him with His decision.

I also learned that I should not worry about what I could not control. Over and over again throughout my girls’ lives, I’ve come to realize that I have absolutely no control over them, ultimately. It would be wrong for me to worry about what is out of my hands.

This morning in church we sang one of Maggie’s favorite hymns, “In Christ Alone.” The fourth verse really hit me today, as I was thinking about this post and the early days of Maggie’s life. Here’s what it says:

"No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand."

From Maggie’s first cry until her final breath, I believe that Jesus commands her destiny. Nothing can pluck her from His hand.

Today Maggie is just fine. She’s a strong, healthy 11 year old who just went outside to ride her bike. She does have asthma—my only daughter who does—but I don’t know if that was caused by what happened at her birth of if it’s genetic. I’ll never know.

I do know this. God caused Maggie, but even moreso B and I, to go through this situation for a reason. I really believe He wanted to show us His power to heal our little girl, but also to give us a benchmark to look back on—a time when we needed to trust Him completely for our daughter. And, on those days when I just don’t want to be a parent, I look back on those early days with Maggie and realize that I wouldn’t want any other job. I am so lucky to have this beautiful little spark of energy in my life.

Last summer Maggie went to camp and had quite a time with her asthma. But the thing her counselors were impressed with was how she carried on, despite her illness and difficulty breathing. “She’s a real trooper,” they told us . . . several times.

You know, I think those counselors were right. Maggie has been a trooper since the day she was born. She doesn’t let those little things (like breathing well) stop her from doing all she wants to do in life. She pushes through, and she succeeds.

So, Maggie, our trooper, I wish you another happy birthday. We are so thankful you made it.

Mom

[edited to add: P.S. I forgot to mention Maggie's froggie legs in the pictures! Aren't they funny?! She had been breech for so long that her legs just went like that for a while. They settled down after a couple weeks, and now her legs are just fine.]

Coming Soon to a Blog Near You . . .

Some of you have figured out that Maggie's story wasn't finished. I promise, Part 2 is coming soon, but things have gotten out of control in my week again and I didn't get it done in time.

Plus I have to figure out how to scan in a picture. Always learning, I am!

Plus today I'm taking four little girls on a "field trip" to the Shedd Aquarium. It's actually Maggie's birthday party, but it feels like a field trip. Anyway, that will take most of the day today.

And tonight is a special family outing that I'll probably be writing about next week.

So, hopefully if I can get one of my technical staff to help me out with the scanning of the pictures, I will get Maggie's Birth Part 2 up and running sometime today or tomorrow.

Hang in there with me, people! I love that you're reading (and I'd love even more some comment love).

Have a great day!

Don't read this if you don't want to read someone else's birth story . . . and really, who does?

My baby’s birthday was yesterday.

For weeks I had been hearing that she’d like a new digital camera thankyouverymuch because the old one used (gasp!) double-A batteries. And those cheap batteries ran out of juice too quickly.

So please make sure it has a lithium ion battery. Oh, and I’d like a camera that’s colored, please—not boring silver.

Imagine, a woman in this household who knows what she wants.

Anyway, we have a few birthday traditions around here. Some that are easier to pull off than others. Some that involve draping our entire first floor with colored crepe paper and balloons. Some that involve choosing your birthday dinner. And definitely one that involves cake.

But the birthday tradition we all look forward to is the telling-of-the-birth-story.

Usually that involves sitting around the table after dinner and one of the girls remembers that they haven’t heard that story in, oh, about a year, and they’d like to hear it again. It’s never because Mom or Dad remember to tell it.

And last night was no exception.

As I was telling the story for the eleventyhundredth time, I realized that it might be fun to share parts of it with you. Because Maggie’s birth was so much fun. Thirty hours of fun, it was.

So, if you read my list of 25 Random Things, you would already know that I’m usually on time or early and that all three of my daughters were born early. Maggie was due on Valentine’s Day—I was thinking that would be kind of cool to have a love child on Valentine’s Day—but she decided to start to arrive on February 2.

I know, you’re thinking, “I thought you said her birthday was yesterday” and you would be right. Remember the 30 hours of fun?

Maggie started to come on the evening of the 2nd of February, 1998. Labor began, but there was a bit of a problem that I’d been trying to ignore for months. She was breech.

In the months prior to her birth the doctors had given me exercises to try to get her to flip around. Now, try real hard to NOT imagine a hugely pregnant woman on the floor on all fours, rocking back and forth to get the baby to flip. Or even lying on her back with her legs up on a chair, just willing that baby to turn over.

Nothing doing.

(If I had met Maggie before she came out, I would already know that this was only a precursor of things to come.)

Anyway, labor began, but needed to be held off (Really? They can do that?) until the next morning because the doctor who would have performed the C-section (she was breech, remember?) wouldn’t be in until then.

It worked.

Next morning I met Dr. C-section for the first time (my doc was a GP and not allowed to do any cutting). He took one look at my enormous belly, checked my chart to see that I had already given birth twice before and announced magnanimously, “You’ve got plenty of room in there. I think I can turn this baby around.”

Now, let me warn you, the next time anyone says the words “external” and “version” in the same sentence while looking at your hugely pregnant belly, get out of that bed and run down the hall as fast as your thick ankles can carry you.

I had not had that warning so I stayed in my bed, awaiting his magic hands on my belly.

And magic did he perform. On my belly. All kinds of contortions that were the most painful pushing and pulling I had ever experienced—before or since.

While two EMTs in training watched.

Along with a couple of nurses who had “never seen anything like that before.”

All told, there were eight people in the room, not counting myself and B whose hand I was squeezing so hard he couldn’t feel anything for a week. I guess I was somewhat of an oddity.

So Maggie was now sunny-side up, and all was good to go. Except for me. Suddenly my labor stopped, and I was faced with two choices: either go home and wait, or induce labor.

Which one do you think I chose?

So from there things progressed pretty normally. Drug-induced contractions ensued.
So did vomiting, shaking, and then drug-induced sleeping. Me, not B.

B was too busy fainting to sleep.

No kidding, that labor and delivery room was like a three-ring circus.

By the time I was ready to start the work of actually getting that baby out, I was sleeping. All I remember were the faces of nurses standing over me saying, “Wake up, honey, it’s time to push.”

Yeah, right. I rolled over and wanted to go back to sleep, but B wouldn’t let me. I think he may have slapped me a time or two, but that may have been the medicine.

An hour or so later, our sweet Maggie was born. I held her for thirty seconds exactly before the nurses grabbed her out of my arms.

And then the real story began . . .

25 Random Things You May or May Not Want to Know About Me

Seems like everyone is getting into the "25 Random Things About Me" craze these days on Facebook. I've been "tagged" (Facebook lingo) a few times, and it just seems like too much work to figure out how to put it up on FB, so I thought I'd just post it here.

Now, saying all this, I realize that even beginning to think that there would be 25 things that anyone would even want to know about me, and then actually posting them to my blog, seem a little self-serving. I mean, really, who cares?!

But just in case you do, here you go.

1. I love my life. So far, it has turned out better than I ever dreamed it would.
2. Nearly 24 years ago I married the man of my dreams. Literally. Because when I was a little girl I used to picture the man of my dreams and he looked exactly like B. Weird, huh?
3. My husband makes me laugh every day. I love that about him.
4. I have given birth to three of the most beautiful, intelligent, headstrong young women I know. I am the luckiest mom in the world.
5. The greatest compliment I’ve ever been given was when one of my friends told me, “You are the most intentional parent I know.”
6. Being a mom is the absolute best job in the world.
7. I love to cook. I dream of being on The Food Network someday.
8. I am not driven. Which is why I will never be on The Food Network.
9. I also love to write and dream of writing a book someday. I hope that one comes true.
10. I’m usually on time or early . . . for everything. Even my three daughters were all born before their due dates (3 weeks, 2 weeks, and 10 days early).
11. Speaking of the girls, they were all born on a Tuesday. Is there something to this? I’ve always wondered.
12. Being offered an adjunct position at Wheaton College (more than once!) was one of the biggest surprises of my life. I love(d?) being a teacher.
13. When I was in 8th grade I raised a cow for my 4-H project and won a blue ribbon at the 4-H fair. I’m proud of that accomplishment to this day.
14. I always felt like a bit of an outcast in high school. Most of those years were lonely ones for me.
15. College was another story. I loved every minute of it and would go back and do four more years again if I could.
16. I love to travel. My dream job would involve travelling to exotic places, learning how to cook their exotic food, and then writing about my experiences in their exotic land.
17. I have been to nine foreign countries; only about a hundred more that I’d like to see.
18. When I was in college I went on a study program to Oxford, which is when I first realized my love of travel. It’s also when I fell in love with England where I hope to live some day.
19. Being an introvert, I would much rather spend time with one other person than be in a group. Groups give me hives.
20. Losing my only brother when I was 11 was one of the most defining moments of my life. I thank God that He used that tragedy for good.
21. My family is very close, even though we live thousands of miles away from each other. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them.
22. I hope I live near my girls when they are grown. I loved having my grandparents right down the road from me when I was growing up.
23. I have strong political opinions which I sometimes keep to myself.
24. My friends have had a profound influence on me; sometimes that’s a good thing.
25. My relationship with God is the most important influence in my life. It changes the way I look at everything.

Seven Quick Takes Friday

-1-
It's been such a good day today that I thought I'd just continue my good day streak with a stellar blog post. Really, nothing special happened, but I got a lot done. I got kids to where they needed to be this morning without too much difficulty. I spent a little time reading my Bible and praying. I cleaned a good portion of my house, including (and I'm so embarrassed to admit this) the leftover Christmas stuff from one corner of my bedroom. I picked up Maggie for lunch and spent a nice hour with her. I went to the gym for an hour.

See what I mean? This day is just clicking along like clockwork. Days like this make me so happy. It doesn't hurt that the sun is shining like crazy.

-2-
Just to add to this good day, I'm going to a movie tonight with some friends. We're going to see "New in Town" with Renee Zellweger and Harry Connick, Jr. From what I can tell from the previews, it's about a girl from California who travels to Minnesota to cover a news story, but she's never been in snow and ice before. Basically, it's a movie about the weather, specifically winter. I've just got to say that I'm a little wary about this one because anyone who knows me knows how I feel about winter. I guess I'll be easy to spot in the movie theater--I'll be the one who's all bundled up, but my teeth will still be chattering.

-3-
Two men who did more to damage the reputation of the state of Illinois in the past year than ever before got their comeuppance (as my grandma would have said) this week. Our big-haired, big-talking, big-spending governor, Blago, got kicked out of office yesterday. It's sad, pathetic, and eerie all at the same time.

But just this afternoon I heard that the 24-year-old "fiance" of 56-year-old Drew Peterson walked out on him this morning. She probably watched "Nightline" last night and realized she was next on his hit list. Again, sad, pathetic, and eerie.

-4-
I have a problem with my hair. I am completely conflicted about which product to use on it. Underneath the sink in my bathroom I have about four different products that I use on a regular basis, from gel to styling spray to straightening cream, but it seems like every day is different. Some days I only use one thing; other days I combine a couple. Some days I like my hair; other days not so much. I have stick-straight, very thick hair. What would you recommend?

-5-
Is is just me, or does stuff like this bug you too? The other night I was watching the news and this is what the weatherman put up on his graphic: "BLUSTEREY"

-6-
I wanted to show you my favorite spot in my home.



It's a corner of my bedroom. The picture doesn't do it justice, but this chair is, I have to say, gorgeous. And comfortable. The lighting is perfect, shining down on whatever I'm reading. And I have my basket of books and stuff I'm working on. Many of my blog posts are written from this spot. And many naps are taken in that chair.

What's your favorite spot in your home?

-7-
I'm so excited because tomorrow I get to act like a grownup! I'm going to put on grownup clothes, eat grownup food, and have grownup conversation. B and I are going to see C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters" in the big city. It's going to be great, I just know it, but I have to make a confession to you here and now. Even though I majored in literature in college, and I even have a master's degree in English, and I've read lots of C.S. Lewis's books, I've never read "The Screwtape Letters." Hopefully B can translate for me. And I'll bring you a report next week.

Thanks again, Jen at Conversion Diary, for hosting such a fun event.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Only in Texas

I love Texas. Over the years I've spent a good amount of time there.

I've learned a thing or two about Texas and Texans over the years. The first thing you must know is that if you weren't born there, you're not really a Texan. Even Jenn, who has lived there for 25 years isn't a Texan. (I guess she's an Illinoisan, but who wants to claim that these days?)

Texas is also very diverse. I mean, imagine, Aggies and Longhorns living in the same place!

And those Texans, boy do they love their mascots.



One thing I find a little strange about Texas is their trees. Seriously, how is that a tree?



Even though I thought I knew a thing or two about Texas, I'm still learning. Last weekend I learned a couple of new things.

First, those Texans are punny!



Actually, getting that picture was a really funny story and it led me to the second thing I learned last weekend.

Jenn was driving me through the countryside when we saw that sign. Being the blogger that I am, I just had to get a shot of it, so Jenn turned around and went back. We headed back down the road a bit and then had to turn around again, so we pulled into the parking lot of a small store.

Interesting place, I thought. There were two garage doors, one on each side, and a place to drive into the building, kind of like an oil change place. As I was looking at the building, trying to figure out what it was, it hit me. The bottles lined up on one side, the ice chest on the other, and the Miller Lite neon sign kind of gave it all away.

"Is that a . . . it couldn't be . . . a DRIVE THROUGH LIQUOR STORE?!" I nearly screamed at my sister.

"Yeah, haven't you seen one of those before?" Jenn nonchalantly answered.

Ah, no.

Only in Texas, my friends. Only in Texas.



Of course, there was one photo that got away--a picture that would go so perfectly with the one above.

As we were speeding down the highway (another thing I know about Texans--they drive fast!) I saw a sign unlike any sign I had ever seen before. It read: "Beer To Go."

What?! Where's that camera when you need it.

"Yeah, ah, give me a Big Mac, some fries, and a beer to go."

Only in Texas.

And the winner is . . .

Kimberly Gravin! Congratulations on winning a copy of "Rest" by Keri Wyatt Kent. Please send me your email so I can contact you.

Thanks to everyone who left comments!

And have a restful day.

Need Some "Rest"? Read This!

Church. Football. Soccer. Throw in a birthday party. Or maybe a recital. How about a committee meeting? Or even a little work? And then off to church again. For many people, that’s a typical Sunday.

Are your Saturdays any better? Do you have any day in the week that you feel is different from the rest? A day to truly unwind from the busyness of your life?

If you answered “no” to any of those three questions, you need to read Keri Wyatt Kent’s latest book, “Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity.” Keri encourages anyone with a too-busy lifestyle to slow down, take a look at your life, and try doing it God’s way.

Keri doesn’t suggest a legalistic, do-nothing-on-Sunday approach. She encourages her readers to search their hearts, search Scripture, and then decide with God what needs to change.

In light of this post that I wrote last week, I found it interesting to read the following in Keri’s book: “Maybe you are lonely: you believe people who care are scarce. But a scarcity mindset never brings us closer to God’s abundance. Maybe that’s why you keep yourself so busy and why you never rest. Because rest would feel lonely. Which is exactly why rest is so important. In resting, you experience the abundant grace of God, a lavish gift never earned, only received. His presence relieves our soul loneliness in a way that no one and no thing ever could.”

In a recent interview, Keri said this:

What is Sabbath, and what is its purpose? What do you mean by Sabbath Simplicity?
Sabbath, first and foremost, is a gift from our loving God. He invites us to take a day to rest from our labor, so that we might engage in relationship with him and with others. Its purpose is to refresh us physically and spiritually, to celebrate our freedom, to draw us close to God, and yet to remind us that we are not God.

God commanded us to Sabbath, to stop. But Sabbath-keeping is also a spiritual practice or discipline. All disciplines, (like prayer, solitude, etc.) create some space for God in our lives. Just as we have a lot of latitude in other practices (we can pray any number of ways, for example), we have freedom in how we practice Sabbath. My book offers a lot of ideas, and real-life examples, of how to approach this life-giving practice.

Sabbath Simplicity is a sanely-paced, God-focused life. It’s a lifestyle that includes the practice of Sabbath-keeping, but goes beyond just taking a day off. IN a way, it’s living out what Jesus told us to do in Matthew 6:33: See first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Sabbath Simplicity seeks God first.

What are some simple steps anyone can take to seek Sabbath Simplicity in their own lives?
The first step is to assess the current pace of your life—what activities have you and the people you live with said yes too. How hurried are you? You can’t figure out your next step, really, until you know where you are starting from. You may have to get very concrete and write down your schedule and look at it. Because your activity level during the week is going to affect your Sabbath.

Second, choose a day that you will keep Sabbath. I recommend Saturday or Sunday, and go from sunset to sunset. The Old Testament Sabbath was from sunset on the 6th day of the week to sunset on the 7th day—although as I explain in detail in the book, their ancient calendars were different from ours.

Third, choose one thing to refrain from, one thing to engage in. For example, refrain from housework or running errands, and engage in reading a spiritually challenging book, or playing with your kids. Start with small steps, and think about building your Sabbath Simplicity life a little at a time, gradually. After a few weeks, add another thing you will refrain from, and another thing you’ll engage in. Pray and listen, let God shape your Sabbath practice. Make your relationship with him the focus. Allow yourself flexibility.

Didn’t Jesus set us free from the law? If so, do we even have to practice Sabbath at all? What did Jesus say about the Sabbath?
By that argument, it would be okay to kill or commit adultery, because we are free from the law. What Jesus set us free from is being saved or in right relationship with God through the law. We’re saved by grace, not by law keeping.

So we won’t be saved by Sabbath-keeping, but it is still how God invites us to live.

Jesus said that the Sabbath was made for people. If God makes something for you, it’s a gift. He said it was not about the rules, but relationship. It’s a spiritual practice that brings us close to God.

Think you need this book? Leave me a comment by Wednesday (along with an email address so I can get in touch with you) and you’ll be entered to win. I’ll let you know on Thursday who the lucky winner is.

Girls' Night Out in Houston!

I always say I'd rather have someone give me a trip, or an adventure, than jewelry or "stuff." Boy, does my husband know me well, because for Christmas this year, he and my sister got together to surprie me with a trip to Texas for a Girl's Night Out which featured Lysa TerKeurst, Renee Swope, and Kate Gosselin of "Jon and Kate Plus 8."

What a great evening! These pictures don't really do it justice because, well, we weren't right up next to the stage. We did have pretty good seats, but my camera just didn't pick everything up as it should.

Anyway, here's my kindred spirit, Kate. We don't share the same taste in hair styles, but we do share such traits as a strong personality, determination, and an occasional lack of patience with those around us.



Seriously, though, I loved hearing her story about God's faithfulness to their family and how she leaned (and still leans) on Him throughout her "interesting" situation.

At the end of the evening there was a short Q & A time with all the participants. I wish this section of the evening had been longer because it was a lot of fun to listen to those chicks banter.


From left to right it's Lysa TerKeurst, Renee Swope, Aeisha Woods,and Kate Gosselin.

On Friday morning I attended a very special breakfast with Lysa and a few other bloggers. Being new to this whole blogging thing, I was a little intimidated, but Lysa, with her sweet and gentle way, made me feel very comfortable and "at home" with her. I'm not too much into idolizing people, but Lysa has been a real inspiration to me.



Finally, here's a picture of our entire Friday morning breakfast group:

Front row: Lysa, Vern from Inspired Looks, Linda from Mocha with Linda, and Paula from Wrinkled Shirts.
Back row: Lindsey from A New Life, Me, Melanie (a.k.a. Big Mama), Holly Good (Lysa's assistant and all around great girl), and Sandy from God Speaks Today.

Head's Up!

Just wanted to give you a head's up that I will be hosting a giveaway on Monday. I'll be interviewing Keri Wyatt Kent about her newest book, "Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity," and I'll be giving away one copy of her book.

I went to college with Keri--we were both literature majors--so we've been friends a long time. (Senior Seminar with Dr. Hein was especially exciting, but that's another story.) She's written several books, but this one is especially compelling to me because it's about, well, rest, which is something I like. A lot.

Seriously, though, it's a relevant topic for our day today, our busy families, and our sometimes stressful lives. You'll want a copy, that's for sure.

Please stop by on Monday to learn more.

Remember the Victory Tour?

Back in the '80s, when B and I were first married, Michael Jackson went on his Victory Tour of 55 cities in I don't know how many days. However long it took him, I just remember it was a whirlwind tour.

That's how I feel this weekend. I'm taking the Victory Tour of Texas.

I arrived in Dallas on Wednesday and had dinner with my two sisters, Jenn and Jodi. Jenn and I left on Thursday morning and drove to Houston for a Girl's Night Out with Lysa TerKeurst and Kate Gosselin of "Jon and Kate Plus 8."

[There will be plenty more on the GNO next week, but suffice it to say that since I'm already kindred souls with Kate I absolutely HAD to be at this event--even if it meant flying and driving a long way.]

Friday (today) has been spent in Houston, knocking around a bit, visiting my younger niece's college, and spending some time with her.

Tomorrow we'll head to Jenn's oldest daughter's school (Gig 'em Aggies!) for a QUICK visit, and then to the airport so that I can go home. To the cold. Have I mentioned that it's been in the 70's every day since I've been here? (sigh)

Anyway, like I said, it's been a whirlwind tour, but it has been great. Because, you know, Texas is unlike any other place in the country. Where else can you get waffles in the shape of your state? Where else do they embed stars into the sides of their highway ramps?

Where else can you find a huge armadillo?



And where else can you get a "sammich"?

Are you KIDDING me?!

The only athletic injury I ever received happened when I was downhill skiing as a sophomore in high school. On my first run that day I wiped out and knocked out my two front teeth.

Real athlete, huh?

Never one to be deterred by a little cosmetic mishap, I've definitely gotten on the sticks again, but never the little, tiny, skinny sticks.

But after six, yes, SIX days off school (don't even get me started on that one) the girls and I were climbing the walls, so we decided to head to our local golf course to enjoy a nice, relaxing afternoon on the ski trails.

All I can say is, "Are you KIDDING me?!" Fun, maybe. Relaxing? No way.



This is Maggie, but it might as well have been me all tangled up in my skis. Oh, and did I mention that I fell right as we hit the trail? Literally.

At least it was a beautiful day.




And we did have a great time together.

But I kind of wish I had been heading here:

In the Blink of an Eye

Kate and B aren’t home today. They left last night to drive a few hours to a state that doesn’t even border ours to visit a college that we know very little about.

It’s her first college visit.

On Saturday night, as I was going to bed and Kate was in her usual spot in front of the computer doing her last check on Facebook and catching up on blogs, I stopped to kiss my girl goodnight. I looked into those big, blue eyes and saw in them the little girl I knew not so very long ago.

And my heart pulled just a bit.

“How did you get so big so fast?” I asked as I stroked her beautiful, silky, brown hair in much the same way I would have when she was young.

She didn’t have to say anything. We both knew the answer.

Overnight.

Complain? About the weather? Who, Me?

I wish I could take a picture of cold.

Instead, I just give you these. Because, you know, I love winter and all and I want to record this blessed week for all posterity.







(See the -7 in the lower left corner? That was the actual temperature at 3 in the afternoon yesterday. This morning when I got up the actual temperature was -18.)

Enough said.

On Time

I just have to tell you this story because it’s true. This really happened.

If you live in the Midwest, or if you’ve ever visited the Midwest, or if you’ve ever even heard about the Midwest, you can appreciate the cold weather we sometimes get here. I’m talking kick-me-in-the-gut-I-can’t-breathe kind of weather. It’s what we’re experiencing this week.

It was exactly one year ago, on a bitterly cold January day, that I was running errands. Why was I running errands when the wind chill was 25 degrees BELOW zero? Because my husband’s birthday was coming and I needed to get him a gift.

I had bought the gifts and was headed home on that minus-25-degree-wind-chill day when I got stopped by a train, which, in itself is nothing new because rumor has it that 75 trains every day go through our town.

As I sat in the line of cars waiting for the gates to go up, I looked at the clock in my car—it read 2:45. I needed to pick up my daughter at school at 3:00, so I contemplated my next move. I could either stop by my house and drop off the packages, then go pick up my daughter. Or I could just head to the school and wait, taking a 10 minute breather.

Suddenly, something to the right caught my eye. It seemed like a flash of pink or orange or yellow. I glanced up ahead of me and off to the side of the road and noticed a small woman, huddled down in the snow. She wore a winter coat, no hat or gloves, but underneath the coat I could see the bright fabric of some type of ethnic costume.

She looked to be Chinese or Vietnamese, but whatever her ethnicity, she was definitely not from around here.

The train had gone, the gates went up, and the line of cars began to move. As I crept past the woman, I noticed something startling—she was not the only person crouched down in the snow. She had a little girl with her. And the girl didn’t have a hat or gloves either.

Maybe they’re waiting for a ride, I thought to myself. Hopefully their ride will come soon.

As I neared the train tracks, I felt a nudging. I can’t explain it, but something inside of me thought, Help her.

“Sure, Lord, I’ll help her. I’ll pray,” I thought. “God, this woman needs help. Please help her.”

There. Done. I drove on.

About a block later, there it was again. Help her.

“But Lord, I don’t want to help her. I don’t have time to help her. I have to pick up my daughter in 15 minutes.”

And, to my shame, I kept driving.

About three blocks down the street I felt another nudging, a niggling, bothersome thought in my head again.

Turn around.

Oh boy, this was serious.

I was nearly in tears. I was frustrated. I was scared. And I was mad because I really didn’t want to do this thing that God was clearly calling me to do.

To be honest, I usually just ignore these kinds of “thoughts,” especially if they are inconvenient or ill-timed. But I had recently had a conversation with a friend who has become much more intentional about listening for God, and it made me want to become more intentional about it too.

So on this cold winter day, I knew without a doubt that the nudging in my head, my heart, whatever, was definitely not from me. And I turned around.

I headed back toward the woman in the snow, hoping her ride had arrived and she would not be still crouched there with her little baby girl.

But as I came up and over the tracks, I spotted her. Still there.

I knew that if I pulled up to her going the direction I was currently facing she would be on the left side of my car, so I decided to go around the block so that I would pull up to her on the passenger side. This would give her ride a couple more minutes to show up, I stupidly thought, even though I knew in my heart that I was her ride.

I drove around the block. As I turned the final corner my heart sank to see her still sitting there.

“O.K., God, I get it. Please help me to do this thing you want me to do,” I quickly prayed.

I pulled up next to her and rolled down the passenger-side window. “Do you need some help? Do you need a ride?” I called out to her.

She shook her head and seemed to say, “Yes.”

“Get in,” I said as I waved her to my car. “It’s cold out there!”

The tiny woman smiled as she climbed in my car and settled her little girl on her lap. “Thank you,” she said as she looked at me.

“O.K., so where are we going? Do you speak English?” I asked.

She shook her head and said something like, “Wah ses doh ses veddy fah.”

Uh oh. I had no idea where we were going, but it seemed like we would be going "very far."

So, motioning with my hand, I asked her if she could point the way to where she was going.

“Yes, yes,” she replied.

We headed back down the street, toward the train tracks and she immediately said, “No, no” and gestured to the right. Ah, I was supposed to turn right. So I backed up the car and headed in the right direction.

We continued on, she was pointing, I was praying. I had no idea where we were going or how long it would take to get there.

“But, God, I know you want me to do this, so I will take this woman wherever you want me to go.”

We drove on. Past a school. Crossing a busy intersection. Toward the opposite end of town from where I lived and where my daughter would surely be waiting for me at her school, wondering where I was.

But that didn’t matter. I was on a mission from God, and I was determined to fulfill my duty.

Suddenly, just as I began to REALLY wonder where we were going, the woman got very animated, pointing wildly to the left.

“Wah ses doh ses veddy fah!”

“Here?” I asked. “You want me to turn here?”

“Yes, yes!” she nodded her head and pointed some more.

We turned into a neighborhood of townhomes, a neighborhood that I’d never driven through before, and I looked up to see the words “Valley Forge” on a street sign.

“Valley Forge? Do you live on Valley Forge?” I asked.

“Yes, yes! Wah ses doh ses.”

And, as if God was putting His hands on my cheeks and turning my head, I glanced over to the house to my right and saw 1626 Valley Forge. So that was it!

“Here?” I asked. “Is this where you live?”

With her face lit with recognition and an enormous smile, the woman pointed to the house and said, “Yes. Wah ses doh ses veddy fah!”

We pulled up to her door and she climbed out, her beautiful little girl clinging to her hand, smiling at me broadly.

What does one say at a moment like this when you can’t communicate well but it seems something needs to be said?

“God bless you,” was all I could muster.

“God bless you,” she smiled and bowed in return. The little girl waved as I drove off.

It’s hard to describe the emotion of what I had just been through. The frustration, the fear, the lack of communication on both our parts, the sense of being completely out of control. Those emotions and more bubbled to the surface as I pulled away, tears streaming down my face.

I prayed one more prayer for this dear woman and her child, “Lord, please help them.” And I realized that He did.

I quickly drove to my daughter’s school, hoping she would not mind if I was a few minutes late. But when I arrived at our meeting spot, I glanced at the clock in my car—“3:00” the numbers read. I was on time after all.

Hang in there!

I honestly don't know where this week has gone. I have a million blog ideas rolling around in my brain, but I just haven't had a minute to sit down here and write them down.

I think my brain is frozen.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to post a couple of pictures of the mountains of snow surrounding my house. If you don't live here, you just can't comprehend how much snow we have right now.

Too bad I can't take a picture of the temperature.

Anyway, I wanted to say a quick hello and to ask you to bear with me. Tomorrow, I promise, I will be back with a true story about the cold and me and God. Believe me, it will be worth the trip back here.

Oh, and I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU for reading. This morning I was at church and two different people came up to me at different times and said, "I really enjoy reading your blog." Honestly, it kind of blew me away. I didn't think anybody but my mom and sisters read my blog.

If you've read this blog more than once, would you just leave me a quick comment telling me hello? You can comment anonymously, but it would be fun for me to hear from you.

Stay warm. I'll see you tomorrow!

Just random . . . but only for 30 minutes

I'm sitting in my family room--all's quiet after a nice dinner with the family--watching the snow come down sideways. A fire is roaring in the fireplace because it's cold, really cold, outside. But it's not as cold as it's going to be soon.

B and I are waiting to watch "24," not because it hasn't started yet, but because we have to wait until 30 minutes after it starts so we don't have to watch the commercials. Having written that down it sounds totally ridiculous, but see, with "24" you just don't want to stop watching it. And besides, the commercials might just give you time to come down off the adrenaline rush you've been on and that wouldn't be good. "24" is a good show for adrenaline if you're looking for that kind of thing.

Anyway, I'm watching the snow out the transom windows, thinking about the few days that have just passed and the few days to come. Both leave me feeling a bit . . . frozen.

I'm chilled to think about my mom, sad, and my uncle, devastated at the sudden loss of his beloved.

And I'm absolutely frozen to think about the days that are coming. A blizzard tonight. And then bitterly cold temperatures to follow. I'm not so good with the bitterly cold. Frankly, bitterly cold scares me just a little.

I think I'll stay here on the couch for the next few months. And watch "24."

She says it so much better

My parents are arriving today to attend the funeral of someone they loved very much. This woman, whom I never had the privilege of meeting, died unexpectedly, tragically, earlier this week. It will be the kind of funeral you don't want to have to attend.

I've been thinking about the circumstances all week, trying to figure out what to say, if anything, when I came across this post by Antique Mommy. She says what I wanted to say so much better than I could ever say it.

Go read it and then come back.

Two things about Antique Mommy's post really struck me. First, "There’s nothing like going to a funeral to point out the folly of Next Time." Or to that I would add "next week" or even "next year." There are things in my life that I have put off. Big things that I would seriously regret if I never did them. And now I see, because she has articulated it so well, that the putting off of these things is folly (good word!).

Second, toward the end of her post she says this, "This old falling down farm house takes time out of the realm of the abstract, where Next Time seems reasonable, and puts it squarely into the concrete where no one is guaranteed a Next Time." Having experienced deep loss at a young age, I live with the sense of this statement every day. No one--no one--is guaranteed a "next time."

Procrastination is folly. I speak this to myself today more than I speak it to you.

Watch out you little pink bunny!

Cookies, baklava, apple cake, cheese grits, filet minon, ham, chocolate, egg cassarole . . . you name it, we ate it this Christmas.

Ever felt bloated when you woke up in the morning? That's how I've been feeling lately. Don't get me wrong. I love all those foods. I love to eat. But I don't love what all those foods and all that eating does to me.

So yesterday I did something I haven't done in a LONG time . . . I went to the gym.

When I say long time, I mean a LONG time. More than just one season of American Idol. Maybe even more than one season of 24.

See, last year wasn't much of a work-out year for me. After some health issues early in the year, I took it easy for a while. Then I led our Switzerland team, so I got busy. Then our fall schedules took over our lives, and I just plain got lazy. My regular work-outs went by the wayside.

But this was the week that I was determined to get back at it. And yesterday was the day.

I got up at the ungodly hour of 5:45 a.m. Did some cardio and some sit-ups and got home just in time to get the older two to school at 7.

By 8:00 I was already showered, dressed, and had (gasp!) made my bed.

By 9:00 I had gotten Maggie to school, thrown in a load of laundry, and cleaned up the kitchen.

By 10:00 I had started a pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

At 10:30 I ran a few errands.

By noon I was home, ate a really healthy lunch, and worked on some volunteer work I needed to do.

Are you seeing a theme here yet?

By 12:30 I had cooked noodles and was beginning to assemble a lasagne for dinner.

By 1:00 I was mixing up a cake and folding more laundry.

And on and on it went.

I checked the mirror to see who the woman was who took over my body. Yep, still me.

I picked up the girls from school, went to a meeting, ran more errands, finished making dinner.

And on and on it continued.

Yesterday I got more accomplished and felt less tired than I have in a long, LONG time. That's right. You got it. The difference was the work-out.

Too bad it had to happen at that ungodly hour, but if that's what it takes, I guess that's what it'll have to be.

And you know what? I don't even care (that much) if I don't lose any weight. The energy I had yesterday made even getting up at 5:45 worthwhile.