Crisp and Cold The decorations are down, the lights are dark, the pine needles vacuumed away…my living room is shadowy and empty. It’s amazing how a month of red, shiny, glowing items can transform a room – bring so much cheer and then suddenly be swept away as if it were never here. Taking down the decorations each year for me takes some kind of herculean effort that I seem to muster up at odd hours of the night (finished the clean up at 1:30am). I had been avoiding it for hours, but after awhile, I just knew it was time to face it. The next day, the kids have the worst morning on record…there is crying, screaming, resistance on every level…Kayla wants to go back to bed, Zachary wants to know where the tree went, Abby keeps pointing to the empty corner with an odd look on her face. (If you heard great wailing wherever you were this morning, I guarantee that was the sound of my children mourning this great loss.) It’s so hard to move on after Christmas…it’s as if the whole year crescendos at that moment. And even though we don’t really recognize it or acknowledge the build up through the year – it seems to be there silently pushing us on. But today, there is no build up; it is quiet and stark. It snowed here today…a silent, steady, fluffy, flaky cloud of white. As I walked outside, I stopped for a moment. I’m always in awe of the ultra quietness of a snowstorm. It’s as if the whole world is sleeping…hibernating…waiting. Waiting for next Christmas, for the rebirth, for the next celebration. Yet for me, it all seems too far away to begin any countdown. I go home, look around my house…the holiday clutter is gone – everything is crisp, clean, cold. I’m at peace here – I don’t know what will happen next, I don’t know what direction I will take, I don’t know what to look forward to…so maybe I just need to look up instead. He’s been waiting, I’m sure.

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 4 (Take a look at Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.) So where do I go from here? How do I move on from this? I go back to work. I look down to the parking lot – I feel peace, I am not afraid. I try to help others that are hurting…I share the vision with some. I will never understand why…why this happened, why I was meant to see it, why I was there. But in some small way I hope that God has put me there to make a difference. I don’t think I fully know what that is yet. I’m not perfect and sometimes when I look at this world I am afraid…it is dark and cold these days and the pain of losing my friend is almost too much to bear. But that fear and pain cannot win, cannot steal my joy, cannot rule my life. I see the sun rise – its golden beams reflecting off the nearby glass. I face it, let it light up my face… Time slips away…its healing waters drifting by… In this early January, I yearn for spring, for the new world of the hope that can be. I will never forget, but I don’t live in that moment, that pain, that horror anymore. I see Jesus, I only see Jesus; thank you Jesus, thank you.

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 3 (To read Part 1 click here. To Read Part 2, click here.) But then there is Monday night, when it all changed. I call a good friend and plead for his prayers. What happens next is unbelievable…not the big flash in the sky, loud, dramatic unbelievable…but the still, small kind. But isn’t that how God is? A gentleman waiting…just waiting for us. But of course, he was there all along with me. There are so many what ifs about that day. I never, ever, get to work that early and there is no reason I should have been there that early. I had not eaten breakfast – I should have stopped. Had I stopped, I would have been in the parking lot at the time this all happened…There was a least one stray bullet… Another co-worker was late – he would have parked right where it happened and gotten out of his car at the same time. A good friend of the victim cut her finger and walked away from the same view of what happened. Her gentle spirit would have been crushed by the view that I had. All near misses… We are talking – my friend and I and he begins to pray for my memories of this to be healed…for that dark place in my mind to be released. As we were both praying, I see an image of the situation in my head – the place, the circumstances, the people. As I saw this image, I see in my mind’s eye the image splitting in half and Jesus rising up through it. As he rose up, I could hear him in my mind saying, “I control what happens in this place.” He said it over and over and over. I could see him rising up higher and higher and the image crumbling as if it were rocks crumbling. Then all at once it was as if a large flat rock covered the image completely – the whole parking lot and the foundation of the building where I work. Jesus grew larger and larger and his foot covered the spot where the incident occurred. I could see the scar on his foot from the crucifixion. At this point he was taller than the clouds. He said to me, “Jenny, you don’t see this incident anymore. You only see me.” I feel like I have been delivered from something significant. I don’t have that dread that I had just a few minutes ago. The image is there, but it is not a dark spot in my mind. I see Jesus – I see him standing there – I see rock covering that place. I’m in awe of Jesus gift to me, of his healing, of his great love for me and all who I tell of this. Some may think I’m crazy when I tell this, but I don’t care. I will tell it anyway to those that I believe God wants me to tell. Go to Part 4.

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 2 (To read Part 1, click here.) But it isn’t over yet for me… It is the weekend, I try to function as normal as I can, but I’m angry. The WHY floods my thoughts and my anger rises against this nameless, faceless person. Why choose to make a victim of my friend? But why also make a victim of the rest of us that were witnesses? The rest of us that were nearby when it happened? Then I feel guilt – “How important am I here? What about her family? Their pain must be overwhelming.” I snap at others – my mind racing – the incident replays over and over in my head. I pray more – peace comes over me. I get to Sunday night thinking that I can make it. I can go into work the next day. I wake up on Monday – I just can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t move from this place. Overall, I feel peace, I am not afraid. I no longer feel anger towards the shooter. But this incident does not leave my mind. It replays over and over. I can’t go more than a few minutes without thinking about it. There is a dark place in my mind and heart and nothing will release it. We go somewhere and I am overwhelmed trying to watch people around us. “Why did this person do that? That one over there? Are they too close to us?” I don’t trust this world anymore. It is ugly, dark, harsh, not where I belong, not how things should be. But then there is Monday night, when it all changed. Go to Part 3.

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 1 I’m looking at the world with new eyes and it’s not what I want to do. I want to look around me in trust and peace and with the general idea that there are good things out there, good people, but something is in the way. Something has happened, you see, something that makes it all different. A couple of weeks ago, I witnessed a horrible tragedy – my co-worker and friend brutally attacked – injuries that a day and a ½ later would end her life. I was looking down from the 2nd floor of the building where I work watching it happening, calling 911, trying to comprehend what I had just witnessed. It was awful, horrible, shocking, senseless, baseless, wrong on every level. I remember thinking in that split second before my mind allowed me to act, “I can’t believe what I’m seeing right now – why am I seeing this? Why do I have to witness this?” The next couple of hours are a blur – she is taken away alive (miraculously), the shooter captured, people all around me acting heroically – demonstrating the good that we humans have in each one of us. I tell the authorities what I know, I go home. I sit at the kitchen table, crouched over, my eyes wide – my senses numb. I try to eat breakfast – everything is tasteless, dull, sawdust. Jerry is home with the kids that day – they are trying to talk to me and hug me and I just can’t move. I am frozen… I cry at the horror, the pain, at the fear of not understanding or knowing what happens next. I hear a loud sound, I jump – “What was that,” I croak? Just one of the kids jumping off the couch. Each email chime from my phone is a lifeline of information…it was not a random act. A relief in some ways to know, but then the questions rise up in me like a flood…WHY? Yet I know that no answer or reason will ever make sense to me – ever. I stay home, I lay down, I close my eyes, but I don’t sleep. I pray. I feel His peace come over me. I know that others are praying for me – I know that I must pray for my friend. I know that deep down, she won’t make it. I don’t accept that as an answer. I pray for her soul. She dies late the next night. But it isn’t over yet for me… Go to Part 2.

Not Doing All around me I see activity – change, changes, changing…but here I sit in the not doing. You see, I’m not doing those things that many of you are doing…oh, don’t get me wrong – I’m not here to judge. Those things you are doing are all well and good – for you – but for me, I need to live in the not doing for just a big longer. I’m not doing resolutions… I’m not doing un-decorating… I’m not doing the calendars and lists for the weeks and months ahead… I’m not doing tomorrow and pondering what it will bring… I’m not doing that hoping or pining for another day… I’m not doing the post on that recent tragedy… You see, if I don’t do those things, I don’t have to move on from the past, the celebrations, the pain, the here and now…and I need to be here, right here, for just a little longer. I need to look at what is in front of me – those sweet little faces, my quiet husband holding my hand, recent laughter with family, today’s date on the calendar, the hands on the clock, the fear that threatens to overshadow me, the pain that I can only handle spoonfuls of at a time. I need to focus on now…just right now and breathe and take it all in. Tomorrow is practically here and with that I will find my resolve to face these things… But for now, I’m not doing it. I’m not doing it.

Community is What You Make It I have been very reflective lately – this is such a busy time with Christmas and a recent tragedy on my mind. (Sorry, I’m not ready to discuss it here yet.) In times like this you rely on people close to you to celebrate and also process tough experiences. We have lived in our neighborhood for 7 years and for some reason, it has been incredibly difficult to meet people. Most people on our quiet street are, well, quiet and are not out that much. If they are out it always seems to be on off times from when we are out. The people we have met have been nice, but we have not formed any close friendships – something that has been frustrating to me for a long time. But look at the title of this post – community is what you make it and well, I just didn’t realize how important that was for me here in my quiet corner of the world and for a friend I recently said good bye to. For me – being with family and getting to know the people that are close are very important to me, but I have not made the effort probably in both camps to really foster the community I’ve been craving. My friend, on the other hand, made her mark, built her community and at her memorial a diverse group of people paid their respects. It was something to see and something I will never forget. My 5 year old daughter, Kayla, said last week, “Mommy, Daddy, I want to give a candy cane to everyone on our street for Christmas.” Brilliant! Jerry secured the candy canes and a few days later Kayla and I spent 1 hour and 15 minutes handing out candy canes. We met nearly every one of our neighbors. I can’t believe that she figured out how to solve this 7 year problem I’ve had with such a simple gesture. I believe this is the start of something big – a tradition – a means of reaching out. I’m not really sure what yet. All I know is that I’m in awe of this sweet girl and the impact she is having on me and my idea of what community is. So as the holiday season is ending, keep that sense of community and common goals and purpose alive with your neighbors, friends, and family. Reach out, pay attention, find ways to care and communicate. It could be the start of something big for you also.

Purpose It has been exceptionally windy and cold the last few days – even unusual for our area. One day I was looking out the window watching the trees and snow blow to and fro and my eyes caught a leaf. Now seeing a leaf in December means a brown, crinkled, sad excuse for a piece of vegetation. This leaf had definitely seen better days. But what caught my eye was how it was blowing – in a circle – round and round and up and down. This seemed to go on for minutes – longer than you would expect for something like this. It was as if it was trying to tell me something as I quietly watched and pondered. And then it finally struck me – this leaf was living out its last purpose - to blow around and around and go on its way to most likely, its final destination. And it was as if it was actually enjoying the journey. How simple is that lesson for us? For many years I moved so fast – I multi tasked in the car (not while driving), I felt as though I had to read a certain number of books and do certain activities even while on vacation. I rarely sat down to watch a movie without doing needlepoint or folding laundry or some other task at the same time. I was at a breakneck pace and not going anywhere. I don’t remember where it all changed for me – I know it was definitely a process – a slow one. Ironically at my busiest time, which I believe to be now, I actually make an effort to relax more now than ever before. I’m really starting to enjoy this journey – I’m working hard at seeing the world through my children’s eyes – listening to the creative stories of my 5 year old, the wacky humor of my (almost) 3 year old, the sweet innocence of my 1 year old. I’m no longer moving so fast, I’m no longer striving for treasures that have no value in heaven, I’m no longer stressing about the state of my house (OK, annoyed at times, but definitely not stressed). I’m starting to see that the purpose for which God created for me is what I’m finally starting to live – and it feels so good, so right, and so peaceful at the core of my being. I have more work to do, that is for sure and I will never be perfect, but I’m so thankful that I’ve opened my heart to this possibility – to be the woman that God created me to be.

Winter Wonderland Our first big snow came down last night. I’m not a big fan of winter really, but I love the first snow fall as it always seems to coat everything perfectly in a sparkling white blanket. I marvel at each covered bush, tree, and field. It seems as if I’m in a different world. I also love the soft glow of Christmas lights under the snow. I’m looking out there loving the snow – something that isn’t always true for me. But I’m sure another day will come in the near future where I won’t love the snow. The days will seem darker, the snow – harsher. I’ll look outside and groan and wish for it all to be gone. It’s interesting that the same exact phenomenon can occur and we can react so differently to it. But maybe I won’t do that…maybe I won’t groan. And the only reason that can happen is that somehow I change on the inside. Isn’t that how life is anyway? Things happen and we are tempted to react, to become emotional, to let our feelings rule our lives. But do we really need to do that? James 1:2-3 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” Pure joy during trials? Well, that is not an emotional response – it is a faith response. So wherever you are and whatever you are going through, look out your front window and choose a faith response today.

Love Washes Over Me The last couple of weeks have been out of the norm for us. Our daycare is closed temporarily necessitating either Jerry or I to be home with the kids. It has been two years since I have been able to be home with all of the kids for whole days at a time on a regular basis. While this time together has not been 100% easy, I’m very thankful to have it and to relearn who these awesome little people are in my life. So many of my friends and relatives have been sharing their words of gratitude for their families and their situations (even if not ideal) the last couple of days. It has really got me thinking about where I am in the chaos of this time where I’m half at home and half at work and the brilliance of God’s divine wisdom for us. It makes me think of my youngest sister – tiny-less-than-two-weeks-old-baby in her arms – working through these first two survival weeks and yet she is thankful for all stages of parenting. And I remember that stage – just a year ago – so fresh in my mind. The bone crushing fatigue, the irrational moments of truly believing that I cannot go on, the crying, the endless diapers, the questioning of my own sanity. It’s as fresh in my mind as a raw wound and my heart aches. I think of my older children – of sleepless nights, of them puking, bleeding, spitting, and smearing snot on me. I think of those absolutely heart wrenching and heart breaking moments and I am in awe of where I am. In the early days of being a new mom, I remember being angry – not at my child, but at how different things were and how I just couldn’t get a handle on all these changes and constant, new experiences every moment – everyday. It was hard to deal with that anger, but I knew I had to let it go. I think to an exceptionally bad night with my youngest and I remember saying to her as she was screaming and crying, “I don’t care what it takes, but I will not leave you alone tonight – if that means being up all night.” When I felt that I was at the lowest point I could be, an overwhelming wave of love engulfed me and I held on to her tightly. And even though I felt as if every bone in my body would break, I held her nearly all night. As I remember that night, I’m so thankful for how far I have come. This inexplicable love that came over me that night (and countless other times in this journey of parenthood) is nothing that I could manufacture or conjure up or borrow – it was, and still is divine. It has occurred to me many times that this is just but a small glimpse of God’s love for us. How overwhelming it must be for Him to watch us even in our lowest and most flawed states and still feel that intense and never ending love for us. I’m thankful that God has given me this divine love for my children. I pray that you find that quiet moment in your own parenting chaos to welcome His love for you and pass it on to your little ones.

It’s a Different Kind of Warmth This time of year in the upper Midwest we usually welcome the first real snow fall. This is the one that makes a serious effort to fill the sky and attempt, sometimes successfully, to actually cover the ground. Today was that day. As I watched the clumps of fluffy flakes fall, I thought about how cold - on a day like today - makes you want to be warm. It’s a different kind of warmth, though. Not the same kind you welcome on a sunny, summer day. Not the kind that warms your face just enough in the spring, but warmth that you welcome and seek out by what you do. We light a wood burning fire to feel the warmth and smell the smoky wood and hear the crackling pops. We make coffee to feel the warmth in our hands and the sensation of it slowly inching down our throats until we feel it spread throughout our bodies. It’s the warm, thick potato cheese soup that you eat faster and faster until you burn your tongue and suddenly it’s as if your whole body is suddenly on fire and you start to sweat a little bit. It’s the warmth of a single jar candle that has been burning all day. The temperature on the thermostat may be no different, but I’m convinced that candle – maybe just the smell of it – has warmed the house. It’s the warmth of family and friends, close to us – maybe physically close or close in our hearts. It’s this thing we do – we seek warmth, but it’s a different kind. So those of you who don’t like winter (and trust me I can identify) because of the cold, snow, and dark days – take a break from what you see and light a candle, a fire, put on a snuggly blanket, hug your children, snuggle with your spouse and focus on the warmth that you feel – close your eyes – shut out the darkness and choose this different kind of warmth. It will warm and light up your heart.

Three Jewels

I stare at my right hand, ring finger at the 3 little jewels in this band of gold. You can catch me doing this every once in awhile – studying the stones. I love jewelry like any other woman does, but this isn’t why I’m staring…why I’m taking in the colors, the shimmer, the uniqueness of each stone. No, these stones represent my children – this is my mother’s ring. Jerry insisted that I get this ring and of course, I’m all for new jewelry so I agreed. When it came in, I almost didn’t like it – sad but true. The stones didn’t fit together, the white gold made my finger look pasty, I couldn’t get used to the order I had chosen for the stones. I didn’t know what finger to wear it on…blah, blah, blah. (You are probably starting to understand that I’m picky and almost OCD about certain things.) After a few months of wearing it, I decided that the emerald just didn’t look right in the setting – it seemed off center. The jeweler agreed and 4 weeks later (after having to replace the emerald 2 times) I ended up with a ring that fit better, looked better, and actually was worth more. This emerald was now a natural emerald instead of lab created – and it sparkled.

And so I stared more intently…I was in awe of how different the ring was – but was it really? Or was I different? These lifeless stones now meant something to me. Each stone representing a child – so precious, unique and irreplaceable.

A deep emerald with inclusions that months after wearing it – I still discover something new. The emerald is my Kayla – and isn’t that true of her? There are layers to this child that I never stop discovering. She makes me laugh, cry, and just love her more because of the unique, intense little girl that she is.

Amethyst for Zach – my zany one. All boy – loud, fast, and multifaceted. He runs laps one second and then climbs in my arms, kissing me and saying he loves me the next. So what I need.

Citrine for Abby – shiny and bright – this stone stands out from the rest. Not because she is better than the other kids, but because she was the gift I didn’t know I needed in my life. Her laugh is contagious, boisterous and I’ll never forget the complete surprise I felt the first time I heard it. She may be little, but she always makes sure her voice is heard.

These 3 little jewels in this twisted metal – tarnished and scratched – gleaming, sparkling, always catching my eye. Reminding me that the gift of these children God gave me not once, not twice, but three times. I am in awe that he would choose me to parent these children.

Oh - I mess up, I yell, I’m impatient, I will never be perfect – yet God still chose me for them. So I keep looking and marveling over these wonderful gifts. And as I admire I thank you, Father for choosing me.

Traditions With the holidays right around the corner, this time of year is ripe with traditions of all kinds. While there are the “biggies” – the turkey at Thanksgiving and the tree for Christmas, there are many small traditions this time of year that just warm my heart. Even though we are in a large metro area, the town next to us has a small town feel to it with a park in the city center. Every year they put up a lit Menorah, lights on the big pine tree, play Christmas music, and put up a near life size nativity set. What is so great about this nativity set is that they have a set of wise men that travel through the park to see baby Jesus. The set went up yesterday and as they are every year, the wise men are set far back in the park away from the nativity set. Every week or so they travel to see the baby Jesus. Our kids love this – we drive past the park every few days to see if the “wise guys” have moved. This is such a simple thing that me makes me happy deep inside.

Some other simple traditions we love:

• Enjoying a warm, wood burning fire and watching the parade on Thanksgiving day. That last few years it has snowed the day before Thanksgiving. There is nothing like coming inside from the cold to the warmth of family and friends in front of a fire.
• Cutting down our Christmas tree on a farm. We always do this the first weekend in December. Some years it has been sunny and 40 degrees. One year it was 20 degrees and a blizzard. We take the kids and they help pick the tree. One year, Kayla ate icicles the whole time.
• Eating the largest cheese pizza we can find as our Christmas Eve dinner with wine of course. The last few years we’ve had a 24 inch pizza that barely fits on the table. The local pizza place we go to knows us and our tradition which for some reason makes it more special.
• Arranging a snack and cookie fest on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. This tradition has evolved over the years. It started at my parent’s house where we would cook appetizers and cookies and load up the table. We went to church on Christmas Eve and then we came back and ate and opened presents and stayed up until obnoxious hours of the morning. Nowadays we usually hold the feast on Christmas Day in the afternoon where Jerry’s family (and whoever else is in town from my family) comes over and we graze all day.

What simple traditions are you looking forward to this season?

One Year Ago One year ago, I was a mama in waiting – waiting the birth of our third child – Abigail Anne. I was tired and frustrated and my heart – oh my heart, was not right. I complained. I was large and slow moving (as you other mamas know about this stage). I would sweat on relatively cool days. I was on a strict diet, frustrated by work and generally just ready for it all to be over. But something started to change at this time – my heart began to soften. Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away – a holiday that was relatively quiet to me growing up had really become one of my favorites as an adult. We started hosting Thanksgiving almost by accident when we first moved into our house. Something about a house full of people, warm and cozy with delicious food was really appealing to me. But not that Thanksgiving – we could not host it because we did not know when Abby would be born. Several months before when we found out we were pregnant with Abby – I remember being shocked and then humbled by God’s plan for us. We weren’t sure about having a 3rd child, but in my heart, I wanted Kayla to have a sister. God intervened and there we were. But my heart wasn’t open. I complained, I was in disbelief. I was happy, but tired from being either pregnant or nursing for the previous two years before. I grumbled, I was discontent. About 10 weeks before Abby was due, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes – my frustration turned to anger. “Why? This shouldn’t be happening”, was all I could think. But then there was Thanksgiving…that quiet day with no extended family – just the 4 of us. We cooked, we napped, we ate…and I began to reflect. I read my pregnancy journal that night. I was shocked at how grumpy I had been all those months. I looked at Jerry and said, “Wow, I really just complained this whole pregnancy.” He looked at me and said, “Yes, you did.” I put the journal away, filled with heaviness. “Forgive me, Father”, I whispered. “Who am I to be discontent with this wonderful gift?” I started shaking almost immediately – the first contraction came minutes later. Two and half hours later, Abby was born – the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. One year ago, gratitude and grace changed me. I’m so thankful for that quiet Thanksgiving, for this sweet, almost 1 year old baby girl, for God who was so bold to give me what I didn’t know I needed to have. It’s never too late – never too late to let His grace wash over you and change you. Move your heart to gratitude these next couple of weeks. Stop the complaining and begin thanking him for something even as simple as the sunshine or the warm coffee in your hand. The softening of your heart will change you forever.

Four Months I know - it really has been four months since I've blogged - maybe none of you are left and I completely understand. Maybe you will come around again or maybe I will pop up in your reader and maybe, just maybe, you will trust that I will write again - frequently...or at least periodically. Explaining my silence may seem odd, so instead of trying to explain, I will just give you the update. And since we are old friends, you will forgive me for the silence and be happy to catch up and we will all happily move on. I'm expecting Baby Powell v3.0 on November 28th. She is a girl and quite an active little one. Kayla is excited to share her room (she doesn't know what she signed up for!) and as my belly grows Zachary just seems to have a knowing way about him. I point at my belly and say, "Baby." He hugs and takes care of one of Kayla's dolls which is encouraging (except for the day he threw her across the room). I am still in awe of God's plan for this baby. After I had Zachary I remember saying to God, "you are really going to have to talk me into having another baby." When the pregnancy test registered that little plus sign (a week after a false negative result), my jaw dropped and I covered my mouth and the tears started. Jerry's knowing smile made me realize that this was for real and this is exactly what we were meant to do. Our baby's name (will publish here after she is born) means "the grace and joy of my Father." I believe that God in his joy has given us this little girl. I'm excited to see what she will be like. Thanks for reading.

The Calm After the Storm I have to confess - I love big events - weddings, graduations, baby showers, and any kind of big party you can imagine. I love the planning, the coordination, the gifts, the outfits, the mental planning, the build up, and the event itself. I love doing something different and "once in a lifetime" every once in awhile. What is hard to deal with is the calm after the storm. I can't help but be a little sad once it is all over - even if the event was not centered around me - even if I was just someone in attendance. It seems that all of that planning should yield a bigger return. It is as if the event should live on just a little bit longer - a little piece each day until it fades away. I have recently discovered that Kayla is the same way. Of course at 3 1/2 she can just cry those sad feelings away. I on the other hand can't get away with that. Furthermore, I need to help her stay up, help her cheer up, help her look to the next, fun thing. There are always memories and pictures and new, fun clothes to wear again, but somehow things aren't the same in this eerie calm. Over the years I've learned how to live in the moment a little bit more, but the only way to get through this deafening calm is to look forward. Or maybe it is simpler than that - I can lose myself in the daily joys around me - Zachary's toothy grin, Kayla's infectious laugh, Jerry's icy blue eyes. Yes, that is where I can live - in the calm before the next storm.

Divine Peace Peace - everyone talks about it - few know how to practice it - including whole nations. So many of us are seeking this peace - peace and quiet, peaceful sleep, peace at home, peace at work. How do we get that peace? Where do we search, what method do we use to achieve peace in this mile-a-minute life? I feel most peaceful when I'm listening to music - mostly Christian music, but not always. A song moves me as waves of music wash over my soul. This is the only way to describe it. It is typically not singing that affects me, but a guitar rhythm usually - a sound that speaks to my spirit directly - almost transcending thought. I can't help but close my eyes and move to the music embracing that divine peace. As a whole we don't take time to be still, to meditate on what God has done for us - to listen to his voice. Find your space, your time, your music to allow God to speak to you in a supernatural way.

Still Awake I'm still awake tonight...as I am many nights about this time. It seems that the normal times that others subscribe to do not fit my lifestyle - or maybe there is something else going on. I have small children as many of you know and when they are finally at peace and asleep I feel as though I can have that bit of fun in the evening that is impossible to do when they are awake. The dilemma is that I lose track of time or just frankly ignore it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm an obnoxious night owl - to the irrational degree. Only because I think I can get away with it - until morning when the first kid wakes up. I guess I could rationalize that I don't want to be one of those people who has literally "slept half of their life away." But maybe I'm just doing too good of a job here. If I figured out on average how many hours of sleep I get a night since the kids were born it would probably be about 5 hours a night. I'm amazed at times that I can still function, but apparently I've adapted. Bottom line, I'm still awake tonight and I don't know how much longer it will be. Anyone out there identify?

More Than Enough I think it is human nature to go through periods of perceived inadequacy. Maybe there is always a sense of that in your life at all times. Maybe the situations or events change, but there is that element of disconcerting instability - the question that lingers in the background, "do they know that I have no idea what I'm doing?" I seem to get on the merry-go-round of inadequacy that rotates every few days. It usually starts with a bad encounter with one of the kids making me doubt if I am a good mother. Next, something happens at work to make me question why I am in the position I'm in. Lastly it just becomes almost dumb luck - I can't seem to do the dishes without breaking things. The dinner I'm attempting just doesn't quite turn out right. (Side note - I'll never forget the dinner I made that Kayla took one look at and started crying. It is funny to think of that now!) A line in a song reminds me that this doubt, fear, anxiety about the roles we play in life are all lies. "We are who we are and it's more than enough." Let me say it again, "more than enough." We've been equipped by God for these relationships and roles that we play and he has provided us with more than enough to be successful as long as we rely on him for all things. It reminds me that I daily have to take the burdens off my back and virtually hand them to God or I can't make it. Before you sleep tonight, make a list of the burdens that plague your mind in one column. In the other column dare to spell out what God says about those burdens. Spend time in prayer handing those things to God. God's peace is waiting - don't put it off.

A Simple Revelation I fancy myself a baker. I love to bake just about anything, but I love and adore baking (and eating) cookies of all kinds. My favorite is classic chocolate chip cookies. My ccc's are slightly crispy and chewy but never crunchy or hard. I have a few secret techniques I use (passed down from my Mom) and have been making said cookies since I can remember. My basic recipe is from the Toll House morsel package (plus the secret techniques I just mentioned). I was reviewing the usual list of ingredients and steps when it dawned on me that I have never - I mean not even once - cooked these cookies at the right temperature. I have always cooked them at 350 degrees and the recipe calls for 375 degrees. I was pretty floored by this simple revelation. How could I have done it wrong the whole time? Have I ever used the right temperature? I don't really know, but I do know that I have never seen the numbers 375 jump off the page as they did today. I couldn't help but take this revelation further - how many other things do I think I know and believe, but don't really have it right? Have I really done the homework I should to ensure that I have all the facts and am making decisions based on those facts? I've been smacked with the constant search and review of the facts the last few weeks. Just when I think I know what is going on with a given situation and maybe have even reacted badly (in my mind, thankfully not towards other people involved) I realized that I needed to review the situation further, check all my bases, make sure the temperature was correct and set it accordingly. Thank God I've done this - life could be much harder than it is right now if I had not. The next time you think you know and have evaluated a situation, ask yourself - do I really know the facts? Have I analyzed this from every angle? Take the time to check into things further - you may be surprised by the simple or even the complex revelation you encounter.