Legacy

"... a woman's legacy is much larger than the tasks that [she has] done. It is about the people that [she has] loved and about the lives that [she has] impacted."
~Dennis Rainey

As you go through your day, whether it's full of laundry or groceries or snotty noses, be mindful of the legacy you're creating. No one will write "she never got the laundry finished" on your tombstone (I promise!!).

God and Mickey Mouse

Ever since returning from the Magic Kingdom, the events of our vacation have been at the forefront of my mind. The trip was full of fun memories, but what keeps coming to mind are all the little ways that God proved Himself faithful on our trip. And each time I consider His fingerprints, my awe increases.

The event that I can't shake seems insignificant. #1 got an autograph book early in our trip and was having a grand time getting autographs and photos with the characters. She'd collected quite a few but Mickey was allusive. And of course, Mickey was a big deal to her since, as she put it, "he's the Mouse who started it all!" Several times we stood in long lines only to be told after several minutes that Mickey was going on break. Day 5, our last day, we ran into Mickey and Woody at a show in California Adventure. It was unexpected, and I was sure it was divinely orchestrated. We had yet to visit the Toy Story characters that were a must-see. To have both Mickey and Woody in the same place was an answer to an unspoken prayer. We got a family pic with Woody and approached Mickey. We were the very next person in line when the cast member turned us away. My reaction wasn't very godly. My mama bear side wanted to shake Mickey's little friend and say "don't you know what we've been through and what this means to my kid????" I maintained some self-control, but I can't say that I completely hid my disappointment.

After getting turned away again, my husband told me I needed to tell #1 that she wouldn't get Mickey's autograph. We had only a couple hours left in the park. "It will be nothing short of a miracle if she gets it," he said. You need to prepare her. My heart sank.

#1 and I headed off on our own back to Disneyland, and I prayed as we walked. "God, she really wants this. It means a lot to her. Can you work it out?" Wouldn't you know that there by the "Moments with Lincoln" theater stood Mickey. I was thrilled, but knowing our track-record, was a little nervous about getting in line. Still, we excitedly jumped in line and waited. Each time a cast member looked at the time and evaluated the line I sent up another little prayer. But we made it. She got her photo with Mickey and his autograph. My husband's comment about a miracle Mickey meeting came to mind, and I mix of feelings assaulted me. I was beyond jubilant that we had just witnessed a miracle, small as it may have been, but I was incredibly humbled that God would honor that prayer considering my not-so-nice thoughts toward Mickey's keeper moments previously.


As I continue to dwell on this story, it amazes me that God cared about something as seemingly insignificant as Mickey Mouse's signature. And yet He repeatedly proved Himself faithful in the similarly small things on our trip. His fingerprints have reminded me that He wants to be involved in the details of our lives. When we are in our comfort zones it is easy to become self-reliant. I found myself out of my comfort zone (which in Disneyland happened to be a lack of handwashing before meals, eating themepark food for 5 days - I tend to be a bit of a food snob, no regular schedule for the kids, late bedtimes, etc) and I had no choice but to surrender things that at home seem so insignificant I would never consider the need to give them to Him.

Interestingly, my Bible lesson this morning was about surrender. It highlighted Matthew 11:28-31. How easy it is to forget that God invites (commands!) us to cast our cares on Him and promises rest in return. Nowhere does He state a magnitude requirement. He wants to carry the Mickey Mouse issues just as much as He does the life-altering events. And I've proven that when we give Him the Mickey Mouse issues, we see Mickey Mouse miracles.

The Not-so-Glamorous Call of Motherhood

Why am I doing this? To be perfectly blunt, I have asked myself that question numerous times this week. It has not been a week of warm-fuzzy mommy feelings. Instead it has been day after day of me reliving how I treated my mom and wishing I could go back and redo those years on the chance that my behavior in the past is somehow affecting my children's behavior now. From my own childhood experience, I expected eye-rolling and sassy attitudes in junior high, but in elementary school? Sure I wasn't the perfect kid, but I don't remember feeling utter disdain and "my mom doesn't know anything" until at least 13. I'm not sure how I got so lucky as to enjoy these experiences prematurely.

I really have been questioning just why God gave me these three charges and what I'm supposed to do with them! I feel like I'm saying the same things repeatedly and seeing little progress in training the monsters. Obviously it's human nature to want to be liked and when those closest to you appear to have little respect for your authority or opinion, it wears thin. After they marched off to school yesterday, chips firmly planted on their shoulders, I spent some time crying out to God. I was ready to throw in the towel. If I step back and look at the situation, I really didn't want to give up. I truly want a deep and mutually respectful relationship with my kids, but I feel like I've exhausted my resources. The verse that He gave me was "Do not grow weary of doing good" Gal. 6:9. I clung to that the rest of the day; it got me through but I still felt almost a physical burden weighing me down. Then today as I was working on "Ruth" (see my reading list), I knew the closing verses were for me. Kelly Minter referenced Isaiah 43:18-19:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. (NIV)

I realized that I have a tendency to allow my kids' attitudes to linger in the back of my mind and affect my behavior/attitude. They fling their little arrows, throw their tantrums, and move on. Meanwhile, even if it's not conscious, somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I'm thinking "how can they treat me like that? Don't they know that I labored for 20 hours so they could make their appearance into the world? That I've gone years without a full night's sleep? That I cook and clean and do laundry and do laundry and do laundry because of their existence and they have the nerve to say that to me?" When they have forgotten the conflict and are ready to be lovey dovey I still have pretty thick walls built around me.

As I read those verses in Isaiah, I knew God had been telling me all week to let go of all that. I have visions of assuming some sort of slippery shell that prevents the disobedience, bad attitudes, and sassiness from penetrating, thus allowing me to correct and train my children as I am called to do without taking personal offense to their attitudes. If I can let go, God will do a new thing. I am ready!

Recently I had the opportunity to visit Focus on the Family headquarters and meet H.B. London. As we toured the Focus campus, my mom commented that Dr. Dobson and H.B. London's grandfather (they're cousins) was committed to faithfully praying for his descendants and look how God has blessed the work of these two men. Their influence has spanned millions of people worldwide. One man faithfully prayed. One man. And God used two of his grandsons to touch millions. Wow.

A couple weeks later we embarked on a family vacation to Disneyland and a similar thought struck me. One man had a dream of a place that parents and kids could have fun together. One man. A dream. And a determination to overcome the speedbumps associated with seeing his dream come to fruition. The far-reaching influence is staggering.

Now I'm not going to pretend that I'm like Dobson, London, or Disney. I'm not even going to compare myself to Dobson's grandfather. But the idea that God can use one individual for His purposes, whether they appear small or grand in our perspective, is encouraging. That no matter the struggles, He put me in this not so glamorous position to faithfully point my children toward Him. Beyond glorifying Him, I have no idea of His desires for their lives. They may be renowned or they may never be known beyond their small circles. What matters is that I am committed to my call, recognizing that how faithfully I do my job as a mom will not only have an affect on today but future generations. And God has promised that if "I [do] not become weary in doing good, at the proper time [I] will reap a harvest if [I] do not give up."

Mojave Cross

Usually when I post something, it takes me several days. I write from the heart, but then let it sit and steep while I think. I reread and revise a couple times before I publish. But today I'm writing from the heart and putting it out there. Because I'm angry. If I was a cartoon character, I'm sure steam would be coming out of my ears. See, I'd heard about the whole fiasco of the Mojave Cross a few months ago, but had forgotten about it. My memory was just triggered as I was updated on the case. As a Christian, I'm obviously deeply concerned and grieved at the prospect of our freedoms being stripped away, and the cross's removal is definitely a symbol of that. But this case goes beyond our religious freedom. No matter your political party or religious beliefs, this cross is a memorial for those brave men and women who have given their lives for this country. We would not enjoy the blessings of this country if these precious people, from the founders of our country to those presently serving, were not willing to lay down their lives for US! And the gov't and ACLU and all those who are anti-Christian are willing to desecrate this VETERAN MEMORIAL to further their cause. Will we continue to sit idly by and allow them to do this?



I know why this case makes my blood boil ... I am amazingly blessed to have several godly men in my life. One of those men is my father-in-law. I love this guy like he's my own dad. And he's a Vietnam Veteran. I'd love to tell his story, but it's not mine to tell. My two grandfathers and adopted grandfather all fought bravely in WWII. My great-grandfather was honored for his service in WWI. Their lives were changed because of their service. They are some of the fortunate ones who came home, but their lives were never the same and they gave of themselves fully knowing that they may not survive. How could I not honor their service? How could I stand idly by and not respond to an attack on a memorial that honors their fallen comrades? That could have just as easily been one to honor them? Are we so consumed in our own busy-ness that we will allow a select few who happen to sit in positions of influence to transform our country into something unrecognizable from it's original design?



I urge you to pray for our country. Pray for those who still faithfully serve. Check out the story of the Mojave Cross and sign the letter to President Obama on www.putthecrossback.com. And honor the memory of those who lay down their life that you may have the freedom you enjoy.

Thankful

21. Birthday flowers from my husband
22. Laughing with my mom
23. Bouquets of lavender
24. Fresh blueberries
25. Puppies
26. Caring friends
27. Understanding friends
28. God's friendship
29. Berry picking
30. Toddlers with berry smiles
31. Grandma
32. Fresh mozzarella
33. Tree frogs
34. Crickets
35. Ladybug pictures drawn by #2

Hidden Treasures

I don't know about you, but in my spiritual journey, much of the sin God convicts me of comes as no surprise. They are areas of weakness I'm all too well aware of! But every so often God catches me off-guard. It's almost like He says "hey, I know you don't see it, but this needs changing in your life. Let me shine my ginormous spotlight in this dark corner of your heart and show you just what nastiness has been collecting over here." And most often my mess resembles something a lot yuckier than a cute little dust bunny. This week, God flipped the switch on those stadium lights again. While I'm disgusted by what came to the surface, seeing God's hand in my life never fails to excite and awe.

It started quite innocently ... #2 announced that the Little Tike's workshop was babyish and had to go. A desk was needed as a replacement. I listed it on Craigslist and started looking for a desk. Usually these searches take days if not longer, so I was surprised to find a listing for an old school desk on my first search. You know the kind ... wood laminate top, metal legs and storage on the underside. Not exactly my idea of beauty, but the price tag caught my attention -- $10. $10 of sturdiness that was advertised as having served 6 kids already with lots of life left in it. But now I had a dilemma. The price was very compelling and made the awful mauve and turquoise-colored metal tolerable since I knew I could spray paint it. But I just couldn't get past the clutter that was pictured on the desk. See, when I shop Craigs List, I am incredibly picky. I won't drive a great distance or shop at apartment complexes, and I scrutinize the picture to detect what kind of home the item is coming from ... the ad must have a photo and proper capitalization and grammar. If the photo shows clutter, dated carpet, shabby yard, etc I move on.

As I inspected the desk photo a number of things stood out to me, most notably the crumpled kleenex atop the desk. Why they couldn't have thrown it away pre-photo shoot, I have no idea. Other piles were stacked haphazardly around the desk which sat on some nasty mottled brown carpet that looked several decades old.

I moved on, scanning the other items CL offered. Nothing compared in price or location. All afternoon I debated. Finally, I called the owner and got her voicemail. Relieved, I decided that was my answer. Until she called back! We set a meeting time, but I still waffled and even sent the pic to my dear MIL to get her opinion. Her response: "you can find things in the oddest places. Treasures can be where you least expect them." Ok, then.

When I called the desk-lady later for directions, I found out she lived in an apartment ... and was a single mom of 4! Immediately I started wondering what God had in mind so as I got my kids ready to head out the door, I prayed that God would show me how to minister to her.

Plugged her address into my GPS and was quite shocked by where it took me. I never, ever knew that such a place existed so close to my home. Tucked away amongst normal tidy, upper middle-class neighborhoods were apartment complexes that were beyond bedraggled. I parked behind the desk-lady's minivan which wore a dozen bumper stickers proclaiming "Coexist" and similar comments. I tried to read them all before she came out of the house so I could assess just what I was getting myself into. Couldn't take them all in, but I knew we were on opposite sides on a number of social and political issues.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't who I met. The lady who came out was not someone who I naturally would seek out to strike up a friendship. She had multiple ear piercings, a nose ring, and hippie hair (which I will admit was quite cute!). But I liked her!

We chatted for a long time and I left struck by the fact that perhaps the treasure God had put on the heart of my MIL wasn't a desk at all. Maybe, just maybe, the treasure was a lost young woman doing her best to raise 4 kids on her own and do it well. A woman who has had a tough life, who is obviously searching for something. A woman God made and loves just as much as He loves me.

Several years ago, God gave me a heart for women. An awareness that we are all daughters of the King with many of the same hopes and fears, longings and needs. That while we put on a good front and show, a tender heart beats deep within. Somewhere, I lost sight of that truth. I got caught up in my comfy little world where everyone looks, thinks, and acts much like me. I love my bubble. Apparently it needed popping.

The desk-lady has been on my mind much these past few days as I dwell on all the lessons in that experience. God added an exclamation point yesterday when I opened an email from CitizenLink featuring an article about Sean and Leigh Ann Tuohy (The Blind Side):

"Your book emphasizes what your family has dubbed 'The Popcorn Theory.' Can you explain that for our readers?"

[Leigh Anne Tuohy]: "The Popcorn Theory is about noticing others. It starts with recognizing a fellow soul as kindred, even if he doesn't belong to your gated community. It's about acknowledging that person's potential and value. It's about seeing him, instead of looking past him."

I keep reading this post over and over trying to come up w/ a witty and succinct ending. I'm blank. May God do His purposes with my lesson and if it His will, pop a few bubbles out there that we may see beyond our comfort zones.

Maintaining Gratitude

Continuing my way to 1000 thankfulnesses ...

11. A husband who listens
12. A devoted dad
13. Loving and supportive in-laws
14. A toddler saying grace before dinner
15. Watching daddy smile at a toddler saying grace before dinner
16. Leisurely Saturdays doing jigsaw puzzles
17. Little boys and smoke bombs
18. Little boys and squirt bottles
19. Strawberry shortcake and vanilla ice cream
20. Those willing to sacrifice their lives that we may worship freely ... Thank you.

Happy Independence Day!