6/8/2018 0 Comments You Can’t Have BothThis week, like many others, headlines shook the internet.
“Kate Spade, 55, found dead in apparent suicide.” “CNN’s Anthony Bourdain dead at 61.” And then the posting went crazy: My newsfeed is flooded with “oh my gosh I can’t believe it!” And “she had so much more life to live!”; “Gone too soon!”, and “this is devastating!”, Were amongst the most common of them all. Here’s what I don’t get. Here’s what I don’t understand. We idolize this terribly gripping and heartbreaking outcome like its fun and games until someone actually does it. Don’t get me wrong, and don’t hear what I’m not saying. Suicide is ugly, and demonic, and a curse. It’s god-awful and discriminated against no one. It’s terrifyingly hopeless and it’s real. We live in a world, where suicide is (unfortunately) a norm. Suicide is one of the top 10 causes of death today. Right up there with heart disease and car accidents. And most cases.... scratch that... people, weren’t even diagnosed with a mental illness. So you can’t blame mental health anymore. 49 states saw an increase in suicide this year. 49. Out of what? 50? The odds aren’t looking good. And while the majority of states saw only about 25% of an increase (only?), some states showed more than a 50% increase over the last 12 months. Dear Jesus, help us. Here’s the thing: when we see it happen in someone’s life, rather to someone’s life, we all weep and morn. Rightfully so. We all stand flabbergasted at the hard reality that precious years of life were squandered because of overwhelming feelings. Feelings. Gosh, darn feelings. Let me help you: FEELINGS ARE FICKLE. that’s not to say they aren’t real. But science (and the Bible for that matter) have proven that feelings can be overcome. But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about the sheer indecency we have as a people to glorify suicide when it’s portrayed as entertainment- and yet gaff and be shocked when someone actually does it. If you posted about how terrible the death of someone taking their own life is/was, did you also binge watch 13 Reasons? Oh, wait, I know, I know. You were just curious. You were just educating yourself. WRONG. You’re supporting an industry standard that the taboo topics are even remotely interesting. Funny how we are all dis-interested when it does happen. We are so sickened and saddened by the sudden loss, but we don’t place value on de-glorifying the subject matter when it isn’t trending. Isn’t it interesting that we all of a sudden become aware at the value left in someone’s life when they choose to end it, but as a nation, we are all perfectly ok with ending the life of an unborn baby because of someone’s feelings. Don’t hear what I’m not saying: life matters. These are heavy and weighty subjects. But we can’t pick and choose when the subjects are weighty, and when they are not. Any disciplined person knows, it’s not about the choices made at the end of a long and hard journey that are most important. It’s the ones made in the everyday, all the time that count. So why do we presume that it doesn’t matter, when actually it DOES. PLEASE, understand I am not belittling the issue. It’s again- very real, and obviously very prevalent. Unspeakably and all-to-common. But maybe, just maybe, our hands aren’t nearly as clean as we think they are, because we continue to lift up the ideology of suicide and the unimportance of life as a culture in the everyday.
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PSA: this post is going to ruffle feathers. Heck, it might pluck the feathers right out of your skin.
If I see one more post about “gun control” or “mental health” or “political” crap I might go crazy. The problem isn’t the left. Or the right. Or Trump. Or the people in power. It’s not cops, or terrorists, or the society we live in. (Certainly, we could fight back and forth all day on any of the above. So trust me when I say I’m not negating the importance of said discussions..... in a HEALTHY way..... ideally NOT on Facebook.) Instead of shifting blame and pointing fingers, what if we grappled with self for a hot second? I know I know. YOU aren’t a “crazy with a gun”. And I don’t have to “send your kids to school” in fear. But the blame shifting and arguing, like in a marriage, only escalate the problems. Instead of choosing a side, what if we all decided we are actually on the same team? What if we decided to man up (or woman up in some instances) about our own part in the problem. Because really, the problem is solved in the home. Say what!!? No but really. It is. Instead of sharing that media-outlet post, maybe try talking with your family. Your kids. Your circle of influence. MAYBE try discussing what’s going on with their day, week, month. Because there’s 2 sides to this “fight”. The pro guns-side. And the pro-mental-healthcare side. When really, it should be a values team. If you spent a few minutes a day talking with your family, your kids, your spouse, about their day. What happened. What didn’t happen. Discussing their dreams and passions and loves. Learning about their failures, their disappointments, their worst. Really listening to what they’re saying because you’ve turned off all the screens and looked them in the eyes and HEARD them for a hot minute, maybe you’d find the HEART behind those eyes that begging for help through depressing situations. Maybe you’d notice the dream they have to help others. The passion and excitement they have for the girl at school who is lonely or the guy at work who just lost his child. Maybe if we started talking to each other instead of posting AT each other, we could hear what’s really happening around us and better HELP those in crisis. Because maybe if in crisis, they’d come to us instead of running to violence, crime, or some other heinous act to get people to HEAR them. We’ve gotten SO terrible at ACTIVELY LISTENING as a people, that we’ve forgotten what it even means. Politicians and lawmakers can’t be solely responsible for ALL of us. Good heavens someone is BOUND to slip through a crack. We can ALL take some initiative and close the gap significantly by helping reach out when we see people around us struggle with unstable life choices or mental crisis. As for those with guns- if I’m totally honest, I agree it’s a right and you should in fact be able to handle your own weapon, for whatever leisure purposes you want. Because you’re responsible. And you’re diligent to care for it, and understand the weight of it’s power. But the diligent never suffer at additional checkpoints for the sake of the larger picture. If gun control is what would help solve the issue, then do it. I’m not an advocate for gun BANS. because I think that’s just stupid given history. And we can’t trust government or big brother enough with holding the only keys to the only weaponry around. But responsible people get licenses for their cars. And they get insurance for them. And they take a class and pass a test to drive them. Which means they could be just as responsible, for heavy weaponry. The bigger the gun, the bigger the responsibility. The bigger the responsibility, the bigger the credentials to have one. But we are all so enamored with banging the loudest drum and blowing the loudest whistles that we fail to recognize we can actually be a part of the problem, and likewise part of the solution. Instead of shifting blame, we can look inward and question how we, as individuals, and therefore together, can make a difference. Start at home. Start by teaching your kids that life is to be honored and valued. That they matter. That their friends matter. This is a value of LIFE issue. I truly believe more than half of the depression and anxiety and fear and bullying issues we have in all areas, could be solved if not completed irradicated, if we simply valued others over self. Teaching your kid to prefer someone else as better than themself, allows for kids at school to get along. It allows for kindness to erupt and compassion to brew. It allows for friendships to flourish. And it eliminates the push and shove of “I’m better” and “me first”. Start at home. Start dreaming and exploring and passionately pursuing the purpose of your family. When kids find a purpose, they have the potential to reach greatness. And so do you- no matter how old. If you love to paint, learn to paint well. If you love to cook, take a class, learn the craft, and cook gloriously! If you like problem solving or gardening, singing or giving- then do it WELL and cultivate PURPOSE. No one else in the world can be you, and do what you can for the rest of society. And cultivating purpose and passion for said purposes creates identity, and self worth, and belonging, and interdependence on life itself. People with mental illness, or even those with perfectly functioning minds- lose it and go crazy because they are alone, feel under valued, not heard, not seen, upset and simply feel as if they don’t matter and wouldn’t be missed. Help your family find their place. Help your family, your kids find their passion. And steward it into a creative gift that serves others- called PURPOSE. This isn’t a political problem. This isn’t a scholarly problem. It’s not a problem for culture as a whole, or rocket scientists, or law makers, or psychologists to figure out and spoon feed us answers. It’s OUR problem. It’s my problem. It’s your problem. And we can help solve it if WE would do OUR part. The last thing I want to say, is to all of those who don’t know how to handle the so-very-close-to-home situations you’ve been faced with. I keep seeing post after post of “How?” How do I tell my kids what just happened? How do I protect their innocence and yet keep them safe? How do I prepare them for school tomorrow, or the God-please-not-my-kids event that could happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Here’s how: Just do it. You can go with fear and trembling....but you still have to go. Children are resilient. They are willing to learn. And they are uncommonly understanding of life situations, even when we think they can’t or shouldn’t have to handle them. Should we have to teach our kids about gun violence in school? Nope. Do we have to? Yep. So you’re going to have that talk. You’re going to sit them down, and be it with tears in your eyes and a tremble in your voice you’re going to explain to them that there are bad things that happen around us. But what they can do, is.....and you fill in the rest. And if you tremble or tear. It’s ok. Because you will have only taught your child the sacredness of the situation, and how fragile it is. And you’re going to get through it. And you’re going to continue the dialog until it is no longer awkward, and no longer scary, and no longer a crippling, fear-mongering, death-inflicting threat. Those who are afraid, are those whose eternities are not yet sealed. Seal your eternity.... and then have the conversation. End rant. Bottom line: start in your home. This past weekend, my husband and I were a part of a "Research Group". In part of the research, we went to fort Myers "Escape Room Adventures" where a team of about 4-5 people are placed in a puzzle-laden room with 1 hour to complete various tasks and complete a mission of sorts. Paco and I were in the same room, and entered with two other team members, to begin. The clock started to count down, and my logical mind immediately began to overthink the room.
There wasn't anything but a few locked boxes visible. A bed and a dresser and a desk. No shelves or keys or cupboards. No random sequence of patterns or cards or clues to "begin". "Where do we even start?" I said out loud. I turned to look at what I had already seen, when Paco shouted for me. In the .08 milliseconds it took for me to turn around, he had uncovered about 8 clues by simply "overturning" the room. He had now collected enough data to start processing puzzles but didn't know where to start. While our two other teammates were essential and worked on other puzzles in the room, Paco and I left that day realizing important truths about our marriage. I'll summarize a few of the main ones here: -He is a "common sense" thinker, I am "analytical". -he is "big picture", I am the "details". -We each have strengths and weaknesses. Without recognition of both, we put ourselves, our spouse, our entire team at risk. -Don't underestimate the skills of your spouse. They are vital to your success. These are just the surface of the life-lessons we were reminded of during the adventure. But how awesome to contemplate. How many things in parenting, in my everyday would I have missed because I over-think the details and miss the bigger picture? How many times have I been so busy processing data from a given situation, that my common sense has been lost. How many times in the last few years have I been stuck or struggling to make progress in an area, but refused to allow Paco room to use his skill-set to his full potential? How many times have I risked putting our entire team- our family as a whole- at risk because I chose to ignore Paco and his "differences" or ideas because they were not my own. In case you're wondering, we didn't "escape" the room. We missed it by a few seconds and while working on the last clue. And if you know me, you know I was furious and angry at myself for the loss. But it was only a game, and my frustration faded a few minutes later. But marriage, and my family are areas that I don't necessarily want to "escape", but I definitely want to be successful with. And I don't have time to ignore the unique abilities and gifting and differences of each team member. Happy anniversary Paco. I love you. And I love everything about you. I love that you're taller than me, and bigger than me, and stronger than me. I love that you're more strict with our kids than me, and more gracious on days when I'm calloused by emotions. I love that you're more understanding than me, more even-tempered than me, gentler than me. I love that you're more patient than me, and more friendly than me. We may not have any friends if it weren't for you. Ha! But seriously. I love that you're more "big picture" than me, and always thinking and planning for trips and ideas and adventures years down the road. I love that you're more thoughtful than me, and more practical than me, and more of a risk taker than me. We would've never owned a home, had another baby, dreamt another dream if it wasn't for you. And I'm so very thankful that you're more forgiving than me, more uneasily angered than me, more quick to forget than me...or our marriage probably wouldn't have made it this far. I love you babe. It's been one heck of an adventure! The next time we are locked in a room together without the kids, let's not try so hard to escape! Kids make a mess. Whatever they touch ends up on my table, the countertops, the sofa. I just yell "wash your hands!" at least 1,000 times a day.
This month our pastor has been preaching on being content. It's funny, and also somewhat ironic, that last month our family focused on the virtue of being content. (We cycle a set of virtues, and focus on one a month!) When the "Kids Club" classroom was unexpectedly closed the first week of the series, my girls chuckled as Pastor described what being content looks like to the adults in the service. My five and seven year old girls knew more than the congregation at that point. They can quote a verse to tell you what the Bible says regarding the virtue. They know what it means. They also know how to use it. But only because they've practiced, and got themselves elbow deep into it! It brings me to the question though, of are we giving our children the room to learn how to be content? As adults, I think we've skewed the meaning of the concept. We like to think, say, pretend that we are content. But in fact, we make excuses for the character trait because of our lack. For example, I'd like to think I'm content in most things. I love where I live, I don't complain about my "job", I hardly purchase new clothes or shoes or accessories for myself. But my girls quickly pointed out my discontent for regular coffee! I have coffee at home, a coffee pot at home, mugs at home, creamer, sugar, milk- even whipped cream! But for some reason I would rather a Starbucks handcrafted latté. Perhaps it's the disposable white paper cup, stamped with that pretty green Siren. Maybe it's because it's made by someone else, and I enjoy being served in a self-helped world. I'm not really sure. But I will gladly admit the vice that is Starbucks over my own coffee any day. I don't need the Starbucks coffee. In fact I could and probably should do without it. But what's the harm in a luxurious coffee? There isn't any. Unless of course it demands more of my focus than that of the Creator of all things. I think we've made exceptions for ourselves. But we've done so, and also trickled the effects down to our children. We don't allow them room to become content, or to learn the ways of a content heart, because we create the excuses for them, before they know their own abilities. For example: food groups. I can't tell you how many times I've heard parents before me say "my kids are very picky eaters!" And then they go on apologizing. But what I've observed is parents who are picky eaters, making excuses for their children, in an effort to not hold themselves accountable. Because if mom and dad tried the broccoli, and liked it, chances are the kids would try the broccoli and like it as well. I can easily say this, because in our house, trying new foods is a joy for me, and a mandate for our kids. As with the current generation of parents, with gluten intolerances, and allergies galore, we've embraced new food groups and fed them likewise to our children. Honestly, that was a "fight" of yester-year, to not have tried new foods. But there go the parents, excusing their own behavior, by limiting the behavior of their children. The kids never had a chance to try and honestly like or dislike the food! So maybe food isn't your vice to the virtue of being content. But maybe it's whining and complaining. We go out of our way to see that our kids don't whine. We buy special cups with fancy characters, we give them the "purple plate" because that's the one they "have to have", we buy fancy traveling accessories, and outfits, and for goodness sake "leashes" for our children. (PS- I'm honestly not trying to shame you if you've done this. We all have. Myself included!) We argue that our kids would whine, or complain, or fight, or argue, or run away if we didn't have such things. But there we go, making excuses, before we've ever given them the opportunity to grow into the morally-able children they ought to be becoming. It's our job to train them to not whine. To understand that they can survive- or merely be content- with whatever plate, cup, shirt, or toy they have, or don't have. I think really, we are making excuses for our parenting. If I blame my child for the lack of contentment, then it presents itself as appropriate behavior, because children, by default, are not content. When really, it's us- the adults- who aren't being disciplined enough to train our kids (because the task of discipline is not always easy and fun!) making excuses for ourselves. But under the guise of "childishness" the behavior seems appropriate. When really, we are breeding discontentment. Fostering disobedience. Cultivating self-entitled members of society for the next generation. We wonder where the world has "gone wrong" because of the evil we see all around us. But the truth is, the blame is at our front doors. Crouching, like sin, to devour us. It's time we instilled value and morality back into society. And it comes by way of virtuous living - all within our homes. Quit making excuses for your kids. They're more able than we give them credit. I find that when I take just a few minutes each day to instill the concept of value into their little hearts, they soak it up and spread it around, like they do with all the other things they get their hands into. It's what kids do. And instead of giving them bad attitudes, germs, sticky messes- why not give them kindness, contentedness, and righteousness for a change? 8/8/2016 0 Comments Recipe PleaseI had quite a few requests for this recipe, so here it is! It's one of my favorites because it's easy, fast, and only uses 2 pots. It also utilizes left over noodles or chicken if you have it! Creamy Lemon Pasta with Chicken and Asparagus Ingredients: 3-4 large chicken breasts, boneless & skinless 1 pound of asparagus, ends trimmed, cut on a bias in 2 inch pieces Zest and juice from 2 lemons 2 tablespoons flat leaf Italian parsley, chopped 1 box of pasta, cooked according to package directions (I prefer the big rigatè noodles) 1/4-1/2 cup reserved pasta cooking water 3 cups chicken stock 1/4 cup half and half 2 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons flour 2 tablespoon capers, drained 1 clove garlic, peeled and minced 1 large shallot, peeled and minced Salt and pepper 2-3 tablespoons olive oil Directions: Heat olive oil in large non-stick skillet, over medium high heat until barely smoking. Add capers, and toss in oil until crispy, about 3 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon, to a paper-towel lined plate and reserve. Season chicken breasts with salt and pepper. In same skillet, sear chicken breasts on both sides, about 2-3 minutes per side. Transfer to baking sheet and finish cooking through in oven. (I do about 12-15 minutes in a 375° oven, and remove them to rest before slicing). Cook pasta according to package directions. While pasta cooks, add the asparagus to hot skillet from chicken and capers. Gently toss to cook through, but still crunchy. Keep the heat on medium high to "char" the outside of the asparagus. Season with salt and pepper. Remove from heat and transfer to a bowl. While the pasta finishes and the chicken rests, make the sauce. In the skillet used for the capers and chicken, add shallot and garlic, cooking over medium-low heat until translucent. Season with salt and pepper, stir occasionally, about 2 minutes. Add butter and flour, and whisk together to form a paste. Cook the "raw flour" taste out, by continuing to whisk for about 1 minute more. While whisking, slowly add half and half. The mixture will bubble, and turn lumpy, and then thicken. Reduce heat to low, and add chicken stock. Whisk until lumps are removed and sauce thickens, about 8 minutes. When pasta is just shy of being finished, drain and add to skillet and toss in the sauce. If the sauce is too thick, use reserved pasta cooking water to thin. Slice chicken in large strips on bias. Add chicken, asparagus, zest and juice of lemon, parsley, and toss. Top with crispy capers, and freshly coarse-ground black pepper. 6/23/2016 0 Comments Top 5: Boost Your Prayer LifeAs a mom of any child, but especially one with six kids under six (yeah that would be me!) finding time to pray can seem like a challenge! There's zero "dead-time" during the day, and if anyone asks me to give up a spare moment of sleep, no matter how brief, will be tortured and left for dead. So trust me when I say, I understand! I totally get it! But so does the Good Lord up above! And thankfully, he's worked moments that are prime for prayer right into the life of a stay at home parent, packaged conveniently as different things. We just have to open our eyes and recognize each of these moments. So here are my top 5 places/spaces to work prayer into your daily routine: 1) Just Do It: sometimes the hardest part of increasing your prayer life is just getting started. We all like to dream about a fancy prayer life, but when it comes to parenting, prayer can be messy. You may want to pray for the deliverance of demons and world peace in a third world country, but the truth is, God is just as concerned with your children as well. He understands that your prayer life may not be digging spiritual trenches for orphans in Zimbabwe, but that you may need to just call down deliverance for your three year old, who wedged himself between his bed mattress and the wall. Praise the Lord! Prayer doesn't have to be fancy. So just start. Start somewhere. It ca. Be with the kids even- just do it! If you feel weird at first, don't panic. Just press through the weird feelings and eventually it will become routine! 2)Drive Thru: Us moms wear many hats and have a laundry list of responsibilities. (Including laundry!) One of those responsibilities is Chauffeur. The next time you're driving down the road, with the kids all harnessed and secured, pray! Pray for each little one in your care. Pray for the traffic that's stressing you out (since most people probably need it!). Pray for the city you're driving through, or the ambulance and it's patient that just whizzed by. Pray for the things you can see around you, and you'll add between 5-30 minutes to your prayer time each day. Some of us spend much more time in the car too. Instead of scrolling through Facebook in the car line, try praying. And watch what God can work out while you're just driving through! 3) While everyone else sleeps: As a mom of a newborn baby, I am in the throes of this myself. Every three to four hours I'm up for about forty minutes feeding and changing and burping and rocking to sleep a sweet boy named Ozwin. Most people dread this time after the initial "baby swoon" phase ends. I decided when Adalynn was a baby, that I would use the time I was up, and the house was quiet, to pray. The funny thing is, that even when a newborn baby starts sleeping through the night, inevitably another kid wakes up in the night or I'm left staring at the ceiling and thinking of all the things I've left to do for tomorrow. Utilize the time wisely and spend it praying! Pray for the baby you're holding, the kids in the next room sleeping, the husband beside you, the anxious thoughts you're sifting through- whatever! Just start praying! I always say that this scenario is a win-win scenario. If you've ever felt like the enemy is tormenting your sleep, and causing you to be awake - either with worries or kids, prayer will change it. He will leave you alone if you start praying against him! And if it isn't the enemy, you're gaining valuable face time with the Creator of the world! See? Win-win! The next time you're wide awake at dark, pray! 4)Amidst the Melt-downs: if you're a mom, you know all about melt-downs. You know that at some point during the day, no matter how perfect things go or how long the kids nap, someone is going to lose their mind and freak out crying. Sometimes it's a baby who can't tell you what's wrong, sometimes it's a toddler who is screaming because they can't eat batteries, sometimes it's you because you're so tired and the house is a wreck and the kids won't listen and you smell because you haven't had a shower in three days. To be honest, some days, everyone is crying- mom and kids! But it's during those most difficult moments when prayer seems like the silliest idea. But really, it's one of the best ways to get through the hardest moments in the day. It also teaches and trains both our flesh and our onlooking children to press into the Spirit when things around us are in chaos. The moment the kids are inconsolable, pray. The times yore most tired, pray. The days when nothing is going right, start praying. And when you don't know even the right words to pray, begin to pray in the Spirit. The Bible tells us that when we can't find the words, the Holy Spirit makes utterance for us, and knows exactly what we need in those most desperate moments. So pray your way through those struggles! 5) All Together: Every night before bed, we pray for our kids. And we've recently added turns for each kid to pray for each other. I love this because it is a form of discipleship. As a mom, I have the opportunity to train my kids in brief moments, what following Jesus actually looks like. Instead of just a measly prayer of "Jesus bless the kids and watch over them tonight" (which totally happens some days because it's getting late or I'm too tired!) I have the perfect platform to train them to battle in their own prayer lives. If I pray wimpy prayers every time I model prayer for my children, they will only ever learn to pray wimpy surface prayers. But if I use the five or ten minutes to war in the Spirit with powerful words directly from scripture, my kids learn this language and technique as well. I can pray for "The blood of Jesus to saturate every square inch of their room", for "Angels to keep charge about them through the night", for "God to give wisdom as they sleep, and to dream dreams and have visions, prophetic words as they sleep", that they would have "Power, love, and a sound mind as they sleep, and that the Spirit of fear would leave, because God doesn't give fear to His children". When I do this, I'm modeling a type of prayer that they can then practice when it's their turn to pray. If strategic prayer, using scripture and focused like a two-edged sword is going to be used by my kids, I have to show them how to use this weapon against the enemy. If I handed them a giant sword and said "here use this when necessary", they would injure themselves or stumble over the power of such a large weapon when the time comes. Unless, of course, I allow them space and safety to practice using it before the time of need arises. Allow your kids the opportunity to see and hear powerful prayer before they need powerful prayer for themselves. The time will come in school or with friends, when they're down and out or sad and sick- arm them and equip them with effective and fervent prayer that does much- by showing them what it is and how to use it when you pray for their dreams, their "boo-boos", their school day, or their meals. Do it, and do it together! I hope you're encouraged. I hope you're inspired! We can all "up" the power of our prayer lives, and I hope these times help you to gain a little more ground in the area of prayer time! If you have a favorite time of place to pray, let me know! I need all the help I can get! 6/11/2016 8 Comments CALLING ALL MOMSCALLING ALL MOMS! I'm a mom all over again! And that means I'm revisiting the basics of balancing my life and priorities for this season. As moms, we can choose to panic at changes, or we can embrace them head on, and catapult our families for great success! I've lead small groups before, but in the current season I'm in (aka catch all moments of sleep while parenting 4 older kids and a newborn and simultaneously being a wife and manager of my home!) that seems a little overwhelming! The thought of cleaning my house at a specific time each week to host people just 1.5 weeks out from delivery is absurd! But, because of the day we live in, technology makes lots of things possible and sometimes manageable when other times it wasn't! So- as I review these "basics" of #momlife I thought I would see if there's any other mommas who want to review them with me and be encouraged at the same time! The study is called "Blessed Is She", and it's an 8 week study on spiritual principles for us moms (like balancing meal prep and quiet times) along with practical tips (like how to stay sane while traveling with a car-full of kiddos and having some time to yourself!) from my personal experience- but the best part is, that you get to share your practical ideas with me too! The whole group benefits and the whole group shares! I would email the worksheets as a PDF to you as a participant, and we would periscope the study together during the day - sometimes dressed and presentable, and other times with sleepy eyes, PJs, and a giant cup of coffee! From the comfort of your home you can connect and chat with other moms, near and far....all through a wifi connection. If you're interested, please send me your contact info by completing the "contact" page portion on this site- and let me know what day/time you'd prefer for your already booked schedule! If there's a day or time that works for most, I'm happy to cooperate! The other cool thing about periscope, is that the time is "flexible". The app stores the video session for about 2 days after the original post. So if for some reason (which is probably more normal than not!) you can't make the exact study time- the lesson will be ready and waiting for you at your convenience for a few days! The topics of the study include: -Meal Prep and Family Communion -Traveling with Kids, and Never Missing a Moment with Jesus -Rest & "Me" Time -Beauty Inside & Out -Godly Friendships -Discipleship: More Moms! -Family Devotions And more..... If you're a mom of one, a mom of 12, or a soon-to-be-mom, you'll love the study! And I'm excited about the network of momma-inspired-resources we will have available to us as we connect and grow together! And PS- it's FREE! Invite all of your mom friends-and just let me know where to send your email! 6/1/2016 0 Comments #OzwinThaddeusThere's stacks of single-serve apple juice "cups" on a tray to my left, along with that creepy oversized water "jug" you get at the hospital that looks like a surgical device. There's a board of "how to rate your pain" in front of me, with the first set of make-shift emojis ever used in the United States, telling me to use the numbers 1-10 to describe my current condition. There's also a bright fluorescent light creeping under the doorway just next to that, and behind me, is the sound of the television playing "America's got Talent" in the background (even though the screen is hung way too high in front of me). And just to my left is a couch, where my mom, "Gaga", is snuggling a sweet baby boy I'll get to take home with me in the morning, who will grow up calling me "Mama". The day started like most days at the end of pregnancy, where you're hot, and tired, and can't see your toes. I got out of bed to fetch juice cups and breakfast for the four kids, and pour myself a big glass of something other than plain water. I tidied as I went, and probably grumbled at how I'd straightened the couch throw-pillows for the 800th time this weekend. I made the (mayo-free!) potato salad I was bringing to the unofficial "Memorial Day BBQ" at my brother's house, and got the kids' swim suits ready, along with a change of clothes. I was craving a chocolate donut. I whined to Paco about it. After he helped get things together and woke up himself, he lovingly drove up the road to get me one, along with a Starbucks. He loves me. He really loves me. And the barista doesn't judge him for ordering a venti caffeinated beverage, unlike my last few visits with full-grown-baby-belly-in-tow. I felt a little "crampy". Just some tightness. Nothing painful. Nothing regular. Nothing rhythmic. Nothing to be concerned about, since it's baby number 6, and my body is well-acquainted with actual labor. I mentioned it to Paco on our way over. I told him that if anything "transpired" I would just tell him I was tired, to not alarm anyone, and he would know it meant "it's time to go home, the baby could be coming." After all, as all moms know, when you don't have a plan, things go crazy. When you have a plan, you don't need one. The day went on, I was about as comfortable as a 40 week prego can be. Sitting in the sun, watching 4 cute Curzio kids swim their guts out. We ate. And swam. The kids jumped and played. Teaghan practiced her diving. McKenna chased Uncle Nick through the deep end of the pool. Adalynn jumped in with her bright orange water wings and kick, kick, kicked her little brown legs. Wesley attempted to jump in backwards and catch himself with his hands on the ledge and split his chin open. To the hospital Paco went. The emergency room. With Papa. (My dad) He was responsible for holding the rag and helping Wesley through the car ride. The cute blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy gave us a run for our money, and wooed the nurses at the visit. Warranting only some "skin glue", Wes earned himself a "man-shake" as if the trip to the ER was a rite of passage for his gender. We headed home that afternoon, beyond tired and with children who were way passed nap time. In fact Adalynn fell asleep on the 4 minute drive back home. We let her sleep for about 15 minutes before waking her because we knew she would never go back to bed that night if not. I had one more "cramp" feeling while helping get the kids out of the car and sort through their "pool stuff". I went to the bathroom, and felt one more, this one a little more uncomfortable than before. I told Paco that while the kids were energy-less and settled before dinner time, I was going to lie down and rest for about 30ish minutes. If this was the beginning of real labor, I would need the nap. If not, I would still need the nap. I tried to sleep. And had one more. Strong enough to warrant closed eyes and calm breathing. I got up, and decided if I was going to be this uncomfortable, I would keep moving. Either they would pick up and be over with soon, or they'd subside and I would have had accomplished much. I helped get the kids dinner. Left over obviously. Because I was in no condition to make an entire meal. I started a load of laundry. I put away the pool items that remained in their designated place in the garage. Here comes one more. I needed to stop. To focus. To breathe. To.... Ok back to it. Pick up the throw pillows for the 801st time. Kicking remnant toys into a pile in the living room, as to avoid bending over, Paco noticed my discomfort. "I'm texting your mom." "OK but tell her it's not really an emergency yet." "She said she's coming now." I knew mentally, the kids would be laying down for bed around 7:15-7:30 because of the day we had had. It was 6:30. This wouldn't progress to full blown labor until at least then, if at all. I was too distracted and worried over the other kids. Mom arrived and decided that with the holiday traffic and the light rain, along with the 35 minute drive to the hospital, we should head to the hospital now. I again, whined. "I don't want to go yet. If we go too soon, the hospital will just push me around and do things instead of letting me do what I want." "We are going" she said, "you can labor in the parking lot if you want when we get there, but I'm not cleaning up an unplanned home birth, or detailing my car after!" So against my wishes- sort of- we went. The other kids were pumped with adrenaline at the thought of a new brother as a possibility at dawn. At the hospital, we hung out near the car while I labored for a bit. Just about an hour. Until we walked towards the doors. Paco nearly carrying me the whole way. My legs were buckling under the pressures of active labor. After convincing the triage nurses I wouldn't sue them in the event of an emergency, I was allowed to get by without an IV, or labs, or pelvic exam. I chuckled at the nurse who said "well I need to check to see if you're really in labor" and with the next breath told me to "not push the baby out there on the ground floor but wait until we got to the actual delivery room if possible". As if the two were completely unrelated. We got to the delivery room- after stopping 4-5 times along the walk to breathe and "get through" contractions. The midwife on duty had met me a few times before- and was easy going and laid back for the most part. Except for when I told her I had to go pee, and she didn't believe me, and said I was probably feeling the baby instead. She was wrong. I finally got up in the hospital bed, on all fours to finish the last few contractions that would bring the pressure in my lower abdomen down and into my pelvis. I could feel every detail - I guess after six natural deliveries you learn every sensation and understand its purpose more clearly after each sequential birth. I had nurses telling me to push once my water broke on its own, since he was so close - but I knew I needed to rest and wait for the next contraction. There's no point wasting energy between the natural and God-given forces that bear down for you. "No. I'm resting. I'll work with my body." I told them. And then apologized for sounding snippy. They kept saying I didn't need to apologize, but I didn't want them angry- after all, I needed them on my team to be able to get through this with as few needle sticks as possible! I could feel the next contraction coming, and at that point, you have two choices, much like in life: whine and scream and wish you weren't in the throes of labor and pain, or use the power behind the pain to overcome the hurdle in front of you. It was a long push, because Oz had his head tucked like an Olympic diver, nearly buried in the space between his shoulders. But once it was over, he was out and on my chest. I looked down, and melted into mush, like a bowl of warm and soggy cream of wheat, because he was so stinking cute. I cried. I've not cried after any of our kids' deliveries. I'm not usually super emotional, and on top of the high of childbirth, I'm exuberantly relieved to be un-pregnant! But this time was different. It was the culmination of 18 long months of pregnancy and morning sickness and weight and aching. And now in a moment, the prize of a lifetime was staring me in the face. "He's so cute and I'm so excited we get to take him home!" I said. Everyone cheered, and stared at this perfect little baby as I was cleaned up. We are currently waiting to be discharged so that we can get home to rest in a more comfortable bed. He's a tiny little bear with tons of dark brown hair. As much as he holds close to his daddy, his hair is straight and reminds me of my dad- who the kids ironically call "Papa, the bug hungry bear". Did I mention he's so tiny? All of our kids were ginormous. Especially Wes. And I've heard from everyone over the years, that each baby gets bigger. Ozzie however weighed 7 pounds, 10 ounces, just an ounce more than McKenna, the smallest Curzio kid at birth. My first noticeable contraction was around 4:30pm. And he was born at 10:12. Definitely not a record fast labor at our house, but short enough to get through! We are thrilled to be bringing him home, and the kids are all excited for their new little brother- especially Wesley- who has been outnumbered for quite some time! Thanks for all the prayers and well wishes! We are so blessed and so loved by all of you! And I'm also going to apologize now for all the texts I don't reply to, calls I miss, and posts I ignore, in advance- clearly I'm much too busy snuggling a super cute Ozwin Thaddeus! When you meet him, I'm sure you'll forgive me! 5/29/2016 0 Comments The BEST kind of PaydayTo spare a novel at the beginning of this post, let's just agree that I'm extremely pregnant. Rather than explaining all the details of what that means, just know that I'm prefacing this post with how ginormous I look and feel, and how uncomfortable my body is because I'm growing a person, who is at near capacity of the space I've been allotted, and my other organs and bodily functions have been compromised to make additional "space" for him, if it's at all possible. That being said, I have zero clothing choices. Ok, that's a lie. I have lots of sweat pants and leggings and oversized men's t-shirts to wear around the house, but when it comes to decent and appropriate "leave the house for engaging with other members of society" I have about 2 choices remaining. So you can imagine the meticulous laundry scheduling as well as careful rotation of said choices when I do have to leave the house. Because I'm a SAHM, this usually isn't too much of a troublesome issue. But on Sunday's, when we go to church, I've been carefully rotating the 2-3 pieces I have left that fit (without offending the general public or myself!) with painstaking detail. This morning was no different. I put on the one pair of pants that still fasten, and found an old comfortable dress that has a giant stain on the bottom. I tucked the stained portion into the pants, and turned it into a "make-shift" shirt, because every 40+ week prego knows creativity is next to resourcefulness in the closet. I asked Paco if it looked too "bunchy" being that it was a dress, and not actually being worn the way it was intended. He said no, and then asked where my "other pants" were. "Which other pants?" I asked. "You know, the ones with lots of room, that are all saggy in the back?" "These are those pants." (Insert eyes that could kill here.) I walked into our bathroom, to check the mirror for myself, and found Teaghan standing there, fixing her leggings so they felt most comfortable. Envy consumed me. If you know Teaghan, you know it is a daily- not more than a few times a day- struggle with her appearance. For the most part, I'm not a girl who worries or is concerned about what most people think about me- beyond am I modestly dressed- when it comes to my appearance. I dress for myself, for my family, because it makes me feel good to look nice, and to maintain some dignity after all these children. But Teaghan is on the far opposite end of the spectrum. She is the extreme version of a girl with self-esteem issues, and we've been diligently and persistently working to redirect her focus from herself to the Truth of what God says about her, in each of these moments. Moments like after "lights out" during a sleep over at my parents, she started to sob her eyes out about having "a weird face that no one could ever love" type of thing. Beginning to cry at 7am when she rips her tutu because now it's "too weird to wear with anything ever again!" She is the epitome of an image-conscience girly-girl and its thrown me for a wild loop because I have such a hard time relating to said emotions. Both Paco and I have recognized the struggle early, and we knew very early on that just telling her she is "pretty" wouldn't fix a single thing. It's an attitude, a Spirit, and a perspective that needs prayed and fasted and beat out by the Word. I've had to re-stock my arsenal of kid-friendly Bible verses to include those that most junior high girls would need, for my once 3, then 4, now 5 year old. And every day, every moment of despair over clothes that "feel funny", hair styles that "don't work", and shoes that "look weird", we've wrestled this oppression to the ground and clung to God's word in dealing with it. Hoping for breakthrough at some point. Praying it comes sooner than later. So here I am, in the bathroom, desperate for honesty about whether this "made up shirt" actually passes as a shirt and not a cut up dress with a stain tucked into pants that barely fit. And I know that Teaghan of all people, will level with me. She will be brutally honest. And she will tell me a direct and clear yes or no about whether my outfit looks "weird" or not. Because of all people, this girl has "Weird" before breakfast most days. I braced myself for a harsh truth, as the words came out.... "Teaghan, does this outfit look weird?" I clenched my teeth, hoping maybe she wouldn't notice I had cut off the bottom of a dress. She looked. She paused. And quietly, as if unsure she should correct her own mother, she said, "No, it's good.....but remember, it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, it only matters what God sees on the inside that makes you beautiful." And she walked out. My eyes welled with tears. Not because the comfort of the Word broke my self-image. Because to be honest, I'm at the point where I don't care what I look like so long as I am covered and semi-comfortable! But it was like working for 3 years, and holding out for a long time, and finally getting a paycheck for digging a deep and grueling trench. I've spent many hours talking with, praying over, explaining through the truth of who Teaghan is to her in those "weird moments". And finally, in a moment of desperation, like rivers of living water from the depths of her soul, it came rushing out and flooded the room. I wept with pride that the promise of training her up, would not return void. And today I got a small taste of what the payoff dividend will be. And fellow parents: it is a reward that is worth far more than any paycheck or dollar amount. When the issue your kid deals with on a daily basis finally sees truth breaking through, your reward is grand. Like 100 grand. Needless to say, I wore the "shirt-dress" to church. No one noticed. And I was thankful. But more than that, be encouraged. Maybe you're struggling with the same thing Teaghan struggles with. Maybe your self-esteem or your feelings are a little "off" of what God's word says about you. Get into His word and get ahold of His thoughts for you. Because they're good. And they are more than the sand on the shore. You're fearfully and wonderfully made. You're the apple of His eye. You're a chosen and royal priesthood. You're His beloved. His bride. His inheritance. You're the craftsmanship of His son and He cares for you! And no matter what the world says, or the enemy, or even what your own thoughts and feelings say, His thoughts are what matter. His words are truth. And nothing else compares. Or maybe, you're like me- parenting and hoping for breakthrough somewhere. Maybe your kid has a different issue. But regardless, the Bible has the answer. I promise. Keep praying. Keep pressing. Keep telling and re-telling that child the Truth. Keep pursuing the Word on that thing. Keep fasting. Keep memorizing. Keep on keeping on with your son or daughter. God's word CANNOT come back without doing what it was sent to do! And today, I've had a small taste of that promise. And it's so so SO very good!!!! I hope and pray that you can get yourself some! Here's to many more moments of God's faithfulness, proven through parenting. Here's to His grace that's sufficient when I drop the ball. And here's to all the Pregos who are just trying to find something to wear today! We won't be pregnant forever!!! (Right?) 5/14/2016 0 Comments Revelation into RealityThere are few things in life that etch into our memories with vivid detail. Not the kinds of details like "that was so fun!" But details like "I remember wearing my pink shirt and black shorts, and he was there and we laughed until..." Explicit details. Moments like these which can sort sight and sound and smell into various categories and take us whirling back to a previous time. Go ahead- and think for a moment. About a memory so vivid you can explain all the details with extreme accuracy. Chances are it was a good day. I can remember what I wore the day I was proposed to- and the people sitting around, and how it all went down! I remember the day I got baptized and how my brother and I wanted to keep swimming in the pool because it was winter in Ohio, and the pool was indoors, and that would've been awesome. I remember laughing hysterically about Los getting the Camp Truck stuck on the beach and trying to use a cheap foam life jacket as the leverage to get it un-stuck. (Good times. And I am still laughing!) It's more vague and blurry though in the bad moments. Usually my feelings are so erratic that I can't imagine or comprehend anything else about my surroundings. My vision becomes cloudy - literally and metaphorically- when my eyes well up with tears, and my heart is heavy. So go ahead. Think for a minute. What was a good day? And if you're surrounded by the vivid memories of a bad day, I challenge you to see beyond it. Why? Because our instructions in this life, for remembering, are only ever for the miraculous, the redemptive, and the astonishing works of Jesus and His immeasurable love for us, His bride. In the Bible, people were given instruction to build memorials, remember events, set apart times and seasons- because of God's goodness. Not human frailty. And I would challenge us all to do the same. Today marks one full calendar year since my daughter came and left us on this earth. May 14th could hold gray skies and doubtful fears and insecurities for us- me personally. But to be honest, when you've traded perspective of death for His glory, the day can't help but fill you with joy and hope! For all of you who've remembered our family today- I'm honestly shocked. I have a hard enough time remembering my own family's birthdays. So to know so many people have marked their calendars with our daughter's birthday, is astonishing! Thanks for loving us so! But, in light of all the things said and remembered, it's our greatest longing fulfilled, when joy and hope, redemption and grace flood the hearts and minds of people in their remembrance; rather than death, grief, despair, hurt, or longing. I'd challenge us all- myself included- on days when grief seems immeasurably difficult to overcome, to refocus. To realign. To re-center. On the cross. Because it reminds us, while staring death in the face, that there isn't a painful way in dying as a true believer. If you're feeling the uncomfortable, the hardship, or the even small, brief, slight "sting" from death (be it ours or any) your heart needs realigned with the One who overcame the very thing you're experiencing. No- we aren't pushing aside Esther's life or death. No we aren't forgetting her memory. But we also aren't idolizing it. We aren't glorifying it. We aren't creating a memorial out of the loss of life. But rather, celebrating all the things she's experiencing - and longing to do them too. The hardship, the longing, the hurt is in living here in a broken world without constant and uninterrupted communion of Jesus Christ and the Father's presence and glory! What a travesty. Come Jesus, come. So I encourage you- if you're reading- to find the joy in suffering. To find the hope in the longing. To grow your faith in the storm. Because He will meet you there, and as His word promises and I've experienced today and every other day of this human life.... He will bear me on wings like an eagle. And I'll rise with Him in His rest. I won't become tired or weary. But I'll soar above any and all feelings to the truth that is found in Him! Alan Scott says that John, in the book of Revelation, repeatedly tells us to "look" or "behold". Not the kind that means "glance over to see". But the kind that says, "stare long enough at the revelation of Jesus, until it becomes your reality". Friend- lets stare long and hard at the cross, at the gospel, at the face of Jesus and the revelation of who He is, until it becomes our reality- and the suffering and the pain and the crud of this world fades to natural surroundings that are temporary - as they should be. To say I "miss" Esther would be utterly selfish. And like we tell the other kids, it's ok to be sad sometimes because our hearts know sadness. But the truth of the matter is, Esther doesn't miss us. She's far too busy and far too (rightfully so!) concerned with being in God's presence that she could care less! It seems like a harsh perspective. But I promise- it's liberating. It's freeing. And I'm convinced it's Truth. Because it's God-honoring. And its what the Word tells us is so. So if today holds a memorial of some kind for you, would you join our family in remembering the goodness of God- instead the loss of human flesh? Join us in celebrating how much closer we are to the return of the everlasting Kingdom. Mourn with us the hardships plaguing our earthly children and our culture with division and unrighteousness. Grieve over the loss of holiness in our cities. But celebrate victorious living through the cross and resurrection of a man named Jesus. And look foreword with eager expectation to His return!!! |
AuthorBri is the mom to four little people, the wife to a gentle giant, and a lover of Jesus. She's figuring out the best ways to parent by trial and error, and sharing her struggles, successes, and stories with you! Archives
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