Why I don't think texting is a bad form of communication...

We have been in the throes of it...struggle...trial...hardship. My hardship is surely different than yours. And I always find myself thanking God for the problem of the moment rather than any other number of problems it could be.

For example, I'm not suffering heartbreaking loss like sweet Emily Wierenga. I just stumbled onto her blog recently, and I'm so glad I did. Her writing has given me renewed purpose and determination. And a deep desire to share my own story. (Oh my gosh, go read her whole blog right now...or after you finish this post). 

We aren't homeless. We don't go to bed hungry at night.

Our marriage is intact and more than just that. It is blessed and good and wonderful.

I do not live in excruciating pain like my sweet mom...7 days out of 7. The kind of pain where there are good moments (good=less pain) instead of good days.

Our children are healthy...praise God! 

But struggle we have. And I have a handful of precious people crying out to The Lord on our behalf. And most of them I have alerted via text message. Why? Because the details of the situation are irrelevant. And if I spoke to them on the phone I might be tempted to share the details rather than specifying our prayer need and belief in God to answer.

So I text. Right now, I text daily. Sometimes hourly as things develop. And I pray. Fervently for God to bless, provide, protect, defend, lead, clear the way and above all, for His will to be done.

So texting has been a lifeline of sorts. Because I need those close to us praying on our behalf.

Many people say texting is so impersonal. Such a poor way to communicate. But perhaps it can unite people who otherwise would not communicate at all. Maybe it opens the door for communication between parties no longer speaking.

For me personally, I can't talk on the phone for extended periods of time. But I sure can text much more frequently. I have three kids running around. Usually they don't need me until I'm on the phone. But when they do need me, they all three speak at the same time. Loudly so one can barely be heard over another. They think their volume helps them be heard, but it's quite the opposite. So, talking on the phone is just something I do not want to do. But I can text. 

Please hear me clearly on these points...

I don't advocate texting and driving. 

I don't advocate texting and neglecting those around you. 

I'm just saying that texting doesn't have to be the least desirable form of communication...I think sometimes it's the best form simply because it's the only form I have at my disposal at any given moment.

I don't think texting should replace a face-to-face conversation whenever those are possible. I just think that we can't possibly show love to our loved ones enough. If we spent every minute of every day trying to show love to those in our lives, it would never be enough. So if perhaps we can text them just to connect...to show love...to reach out...to ask for prayer...or to pray for someone else...then just perhaps, texting is the best thing to do in those moments. 

Not measuring up...

(WARNING...lots of words to follow...)

Happy Birthday precious Wonder Woman! You are a delight and a joy!

So many days I feel like I just don’t quite measure up…as a mom, a wife, a friend, a teacher, a housekeeper…whatever the particular role I’m to play, on any given day I do not feel like I measure up.

And I’m smart enough to know that these feelings aren’t just feelings. They’re reality.

Because I don’t measure up to the standard by which I measure myself…at all…in any area.

Sometimes those standards make sense. For example, when I measure myself against the Proverbs 31 woman…I don’t measure up. I strive and set that as my goal, my measuring stick. And never will I completely attain that title. The Proverbs 31 Woman. Nope. Not even on my best, most patient, most wonderful and productive and creative and sweet day. I will not be that woman.

Sometimes those standards don’t make sense whatsoever.

Pretty good skater for her second time.

I just had a party for my sweet Wonder Woman. She’s 8 now. We took a few friends to roller skate, swim and then had them spend the night. On the Party Scale of Fantasticity (yep, that’s a real scale, didn’t you know?), it didn’t even register. I phone called my invitations to each mom involved. There might have even been a text message (gasp!).

Donuts for breakfast...her request.

I picked up my cake at Costco…for real, it was cute. And I do get points because it was exactly what Wonder Woman wanted…or so she said in the heat of the chocolate icing and two pounds of chocolate mousse filling-moment. And on the Utter Deliciousness Scale, that cake was a 10+. Another true unit of measure. Seriously, where have you been?

You cannot have cake without Blue Bell. It's un-Texan.

There were no cute cake toppers. For goodness sake, I did a cake, not cupcakes. There were no Wonder Woman-iced cookies…because really, she’s an amazing girl…she needs no advertisement. J There were no empty Frappuccino bottles with vinyl labels for each girl to sip from with their precious paper straws. (All you people who do that…yes, you’re amazing. Your parties probably blow my Party Scale of Fantasticity right off the charts. Seriously.

Nope, instead I picked up some red and purple plates at Dollar Tree. Gotta’ love the Dollar Tree. And I did white cups to write on them with Sharpies. Our finger foods were Little Caesar’s pizzas with caffeine-free soda.

It's the Sharpie special.

I did go all out with Blue Bell ice cream. No skimping there. It is unthinkable.

So, as the dust settles and the smoke clears from this event, I find myself apologizing to parents…over the mess in my house…the lack of planned events for the party…the fact that I didn’t get the swimsuits washed last night as I normally do (hello, girlies leave wet swimsuits all over the place which usually results in water stains)…

And I recognize once more that I just don’t measure up. I didn’t even make it onto the Party Scale of Fantasticity…no, in fact, I perhaps ended up in the red.

But maybe that’s okay. I think if I were to have done all the things listed above that it would have been more about me than about her…and right this moment, it seems she’s quite happy with the way it turned out. She is a contemplator, so it may take her a few days to process and decide if it was awesome or not. She had fun, though, and I have photos to prove it.

She is quite upset to have to wait on Super Dad to return from work today so she can open her big present from us. And that’s a total bummer…for her…for sure.

Because boxers need shorts and angel wings...that's why.

And then there are times when your kid tells you that you’re the most un-fun parent ever. I mean really, I go to the pool and don’t swim. Oh, the horror!

The reality is…until this week the water was too cold. I’m a bath-water swimmer, kind of mom. Soon I will be gracing the swimming pool with my…um, presence. And then the complaint will be, “well, you got in, but your hair is still dry…”

It’s always something. Maybe that is why I feel like I don’t quite measure up. If it isn’t the voices in my head (yes, plural…you only have one voice in yours?), it’s my kids…or the world…or the magazine covers…or Pinterest…telling me once more that there’s another boat I missed.

And at the end of the day, here’s what I have to do.

Stop. Breathe. Listen. To the still small voice of God. He reminds me that I am enough. Not because of me. But because of the sacrifice of His Son…who makes me enough.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Happy Memorial Day!

Thank you to all the men and women who have served and protected and still defend our country even today! God bless you!

We've been out of town. Wrapping up our homeschool year. Ready for summer!

Love how close-knit they are. Thank you, Lord. 

My mother...

Isn't she beautiful? 

And even more than that, she is the most Godly and kind woman I know. 

She is brave. 

She is strong. Stronger than anyone I know. 

She is precious. A daughter of the most high King!

Thank you God for choosing her to be my mom. 

Mother's Day

Most awesome husband...blessed to be his wife (October 6, 2001)

I woke up this morning with a bit of a spring in my step. No idea why. I woke up early and the first words out of my mouth were, "I do not want to get up and go run..."

But I did.

And as always, it felt good. Really good.

Davy Crockett (7 years old)

It was more chilly than I anticipated, so I had to run to get warm. And that was nice for a change.

But throughout the day, I noticed that I was perky, peppy, happy, dare I say...joyful.

I'm always careful to differentiate between happy and joyful. And I typically reserve joyful for the most sacred and amazing moments of life...not the daily, typical, mundane sorts of silliness and smile-inducing behavior.

Wonder Woman (6 mos)

No. Joy is something quite different. Wonderful. Hypnotic almost.

And today, perhaps, I had joy. And I'm not quite sure why...not that joy requires a reason. It shouldn't. Joy should be unshakable. Joy should exist in my life regardless of circumstance or situation. Happiness is dependent upon things going my way...but joy, oh joy, is like air. It's like water. It should be present and required for daily living without regard to my present circumstance.

Still I continued to ponder throughout the day where this joy came from...and even now, the only thing I kept thinking is that it's about Mother's Day. A special day to love on MY mom...and a special day for my kids to love on me. Everyone loves to be loved. Indeed. Being loved...causes us to thrive.

So, yes, perhaps it is about Mother's Day. Or perhaps, the joy of the Lord is truly my strength. Nehemiah 8:10. 

And oh, the blessings I have been given in this precious, short life...these are the reasons I have joy. As if I needed more than just my Savior to give me joy, these are four more reasons...

Superman (BIRTHday)

Happy Mother's Day...to all the wonderful mothers out there. May your day be blessed and full of God's goodness.

Mom, you are the best, most precious mother, ever. And I am thankful every single day, that God chose YOU to be my mom.

That's worship, Mama...

This boy right here. This big, 5 year-old boy. Where did the years go?

He melted my heart today, and I just wanted to stop time. Freeze it. Rewind and get it on video so that I never, ever forget. Oh how I will miss these days...when they're old and big and grown up.

We have a favorite song in our home right now. Aside from "Awesome God" which is our all the time, forever favorite, there is a new song we have on replay, thank you, David Murphy (go Rangers & sic 'em Bears!).

So Superman requests this song every time we get in the car.

You can hear it and see the video here.

So today we were driving to his baseball game. And I turned on his song. And he sang. He sang his little heart out. Sometimes one word behind, because he's listening and trying to memorize the words. Precious.

And then he asked me to play it again.

 And I did...and he sang louder, more confidently. "Take this world and give me Jesus..."

Listening to his sweet voice, the nuances of the way he pronounces some of the words, the lilt of his voice, his earnest attempt to match pitch (and he can). Oh, God, burn it into my memory. Burn it into my heart. Let me remember his precious-ness forever.

And he kept singing. And I continued driving and listening. Thanking God for these moments. And thinking, "I will play this song a million times if it means I get to have this moment that many more times..."

 And then he said...so satisfied as if his little heart was as full as mine...

"That's worship, Mama."

This boy is 11...

 That little face. That little furrowed brow. The strength with which that boy tried to stay inside my warm, cozy tummy. I'm fairly confident of the conditions of my tummy because of how long (and hard) I pushed to usher his sweet face into this world.

Oh my, we look so young. Oh my, my eyes are so swollen. Ah, yes. The joys of motherhood and childbirth. And honestly, I cannot complain. I only pushed an hour once he was ready to come out. I know many people push much longer than that. And still, my eyes were swollen for days. 

Thankfully his little cone-shaped head did not stay that way for long. 

And to think that he has been alive for 11 years.  He is precious. He is happy. He is delightful. He is inquisitive. He is the most curious child I think I have ever known, and certainly he is the most curious of our family.

He is kind, energetic. He goes non-stop. From the moment he wakes up, his only speed is fast.

Son:
"Mom, do you think I could be a good computer programmer?"

Me:
"Yes, I think you can do anything you set your mind to. You'll have to work very hard at whatever you decide."

Son:
"Do you think I could be an attorney?"

Me:
"Yes, absolutely. Whatever God wants you to be, you should be that. You should do that."

And of all the kids, he asks the most questions, by far. So many in fact, that I have to limit him to a certain number per day.

No joke. Because at some point each day I run out of answers that make sense. Not because I don't know the answer, but because my brain stops each day like a punch clock.

Oh, sweet boy, you are a delight. And I'm so thankful God chose to begin with you.