Marriage, bears, and the time I nearly became dinner

This weekend the commander and I are away at the marriage retreat sponsored by our church.  We are at the Billy Graham Training Center in Asheville, NC and it is amazingly beautiful!!  Nestled in the mountains with stunning panoramic views, peaceful, bubbling streams, and a sense of peace that pervades every inch, it is the perfect place to detach from every-day life and reconnect with the one God gave you to walk with.  There is, however, one drawback to this scenic beauty - there is wildlife. Everywhere.  Everyone who knows me well and, in fact, anyone who has known me for more than 5 minutes, knows I have a well-documented issue with bears.  My main problem being, they will eat you.  They are from the devil, everyone knows that.  God put bears on the earth to show us what sorts of things inhabit the nether regions of the underworld.  Anyway, you get the picture.
Last night we had our first session here.  We meet in a building just a little ways up the mountain from where we are staying, but they graciously provide a shuttle to take us back and forth.  It was a great meeting with an interesting, engaging speaker and despite being exhausted from the drive and such we really enjoyed ourselves.  Afterwards, there were snacks downstairs and plenty of time to sit and talk and enjoy ourselves.  Eventually, it was time to head back to our room and here's where things got dicey.  You see, I wanted to wait for the shuttle, but the commander wanted to walk. W.A.L.K!  In the dark, at night, in the woods, in the mountains, where there are bears!  (see above)  It's amazing how quickly all those lovely words about giving yourself for your spouse, about doing things just because it makes them happy, about putting them first can disappear. Gone, every. Last. Word.  When bears are involved, all bets are off!  The thing is, the Holy Spirit can be very difficult to work with at times and though I tried and tried to ignore him, he continued to nudge and nudge and scream in my ear  whisper softly to my heart to step out of my comfort zone and do something my nature loving husband enjoys.  I have nothing against nature, I enjoy nature.  I could stare out the window at it all day long!  Eventually, I could not ignore it any longer so I agreed to make the dangerously epic journey back to the lodge.  Yes, you heard me, I was willing to make the 1/4 mile trek through the bear infested woods, straight down the side of a mountain, in the dead of night back to the safety of the room, all for the love of a certain bald man, despite his scoffing at my bear issue!  Imagine my horror, my abstract terror, when we reached the trail head to find a sign informing us about the BEARS!!  The commander was quick to point out the part that described the furry monsters as "shy" and "non-aggressive".  My problem is, with my luck we would run into the one bear in these mountains with PMS!  I'm pretty sure that I am the equivalent of chocolate to a PMS'ing bear.  I've been told if I ever meet a bear, I don't have to run faster than the bear, I just have to run faster than the one I'm with!  The only thing bad about that is the commander can run laps around me so I would be pretty much toast! And yet love drove me onward, well, love and the fact that by this time we had missed the last shuttle.  I was quite proud of myself when, a mere 15 minutes later, I had completed my epic adventure of walking 1/4 mile, on a wide, graveled, well-lit path, all the way back to my room.  I was proud and my husband was happy.  There's still no need for him to start planning our next outdoor quest, but I'm making baby steps. 

Now, dear readers, those of you familiar with my writings know there is always more to the story and this is no different.  I had come to the mountains to reconnect with my husband, to disconnect from life for just a little while.  I came to step into relaxation and peace. I did not come to step out of my comfort zone, but I am glad that I did.  It made me think and you all know how much I hate it when that happens.  How many times has the Lord brought something to us that is out of our comfort zone and we run the other direction?  How many adventures have we missed out on because of fear and trepidation?  I have to say that I am taking that lesson home with me this weekend.  It has been about more than just my marriage, it has been about me, and I guess that ultimately impacts my marriage.

So, my challenge to you this week, my friends, is to find you comfort zone, define the parameters and then jump right out of them!  You may be surprised what you may learn about yourself, those around you and the Lord himself. 

The next time someone says "there's bears in them woods" I can proudly reply, "maybe, but I'm not afraid!"  At least, there was this one time...........

Till next time, I'll be here reconnecting, disconnecting and staring at nature........... from my window!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Guard Duty and an Unattended Ham Sandwich

Imagine, if you will, a quiet afternoon.  The rain is falling softly outside my window.  I tucked in at my desk with a nice up of coffee and my schoolwork.  I can hear my music playing quietly and one of my boys stirring around in the kitchen.  My house is actually in a state of being fairly neat and tidy, if only because we had guests over this past weekend for the superbowl and the boys haven't had quite enough time to destroy it yet.  The overall picture is one of contentment and peace.  If you know me, at all, you know it wasn't meant to last....

As I sat at my desk delving into the wonders of the different methods of behavioral research (insert sarcasm here! ugh!), I was jarred from my peaceful contemplation by a sound that everyone who has ever owned an animal or a small child knows well. (yes, I realize you cant own a small child.  don't write me letters...)  It was the sound that usually comes in the middle of the night and makes you reach for your slippers before putting your feet on the floor.  It is the sound made when something has been ingested that a small tummy somewhere is not too happy about.

Those of you who have spent time here, in the scary alleyways of my brain, are aware of some of the many animals I share my home with.  (no, I'm actually not including my children in that statement!) This time I'm referring to the four-legged, furry ones.  This time, it was Koko, the once stray now dearly loved grey tabby that routinely makes my life crazy.  It is from the devil, the sound! Not Koko! (though some of the sounds and smells that come wafting from the general vicinity of the little box most definitely have their origins somewhere in the nether regions, but that's for another post)   I first heard it coming from the kitchen region, then just a few seconds later, from the hallway area, very shortly after that, he hit the dining room.  I refused to even get up and move that direction until the sounds ceased.  I had to hear them and I had to deal with the outcome, I didn't want to see it action!  Right about that time, Monkey boy came back down the stairs and announced to the world what the sounds had already told me.  Then, my luck changed.  Monkey Boy said "eewww! he's choking on a bunch of lunch meat!"  Lunch meat???  Where did the cat get lunch meant???  Did he grow a couple opposable thumbs and can open the refrigerator?  Nope, there was no evidence of evolution at work here.  It was simply a case of Monkey Boy making a sandwich and then running upstairs to get something and leaving aforementioned cat luring culinary delights unattended on the counter.  Once I got over my irritation about the fact that the cat was on my kitchen counter I realized I was off the hook for the clean up.  Monkey Boy is the one that caused the mess so he was the one that got to clean it up.  (score one for me) 

Is this just a cute  gross little story about cat puke and distracted teenagers?  Nay, my dear readers! There is a lesson here, believe it or not.  (I know some of you are sitting there thinking "where in the name of all that is holy is she going with this story?!  admit it!)  Let's look a little closer at this whole anecdote.  The problem did not originate with Koko and his insatiable hunger for all things deli. No, the problem came about because the meat was left unattended.  Koko was simply following his nose and his instincts.  He was just hanging out, prowling around seeking what he may devour.  (see where I going now???)  If Monkey Boy had had been a little more intentional about guarding his lunch for out of it flows the wellspring of life, this would never have happened.  (how about now???  get it now??) 

The point is, there are many things we have, peace, contentment, joy, health, relationships, but mostly our heart, that deserve to be guarded.  The word tells us in 1Peter 5:8 that we have an adversary who prowls around as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.  That is one reason why the Lord instructs us in Proverbs 4:23 that we should "above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it."  We have been given wonderful gifts from the Lord, gifts of abundant life, joy, peace, so many things flow from his heart to ours.  It is important for us to consciously guard against the enemy who would love nothing more than to sneak in and devour.  Monkey Boy made his mistake by leaving his sandwich unattended, or unguarded and Koko devoured it.  What followed was a mess of epic proportions but he learned to be aware of the domesticated lion-ett who roams our house seeking what he may devour! 

This week, I would challenge you, my dear reader to be aware of the lion-etts in your life.  Make an intentional effort to guard your heart from those who would devour it with strife, gossip, bitterness, anger, or a multitude of other unnecessary and unpleasant things.  Become aware of what's in there.  It's hard to guard something you don't know, now isn't it?  Let the Lord show you where your weaknesses are, where the wounds that weaken your heart are.  That is where the enemy is going to target you, in your weaker areas, but in your weakness He is made strong.  So dust off that armor and take a stand in defense of your heart.......and your lunch.  Because a point could be made for the importance of them both!

Until next time, I'll be here chasing kids, herding cats and buying more lunch meat!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor 

Don't Hang Your Hopes on Malfunctioning Christmas Hooks

Yes, this is a new year’s/Christmas post.  Yes, I realize that it is now the end of January.  Yes, I am also aware that this fact means that I am late posting my new year’s/Christmas post.  I could weave an elaborate tale to excuse this lapse, but it’s late and I’m tired and my brain has used up all the available bandwidth for the evening, so let’s just say that, yeah, it’s late...

This is the time of year when we all reflect on the past 12 months.  In my case, I reflect on the past 12 months and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed to keep all of the creatures that insist on calling me “Mom” alive for another year.  There were no bones broken, no stitches required, no major illnesses, no major car accidents, no one was thrown out of school, arrested, or labeled a delinquent.  All in all, that adds up to a pretty good year for me. 

Most of you know that I returned to school recently to finally pursue my dream of a degree, an actual piece of paper to prove that I have a working brain in my head that does something other than keep my hair from falling out!  (come to think of it, what does that say about J??) Because of the craziness of my new schedule, (okay, you caught me! My schedule had nothing to do with it!! I’m just crazy!!) we were a little late getting the tree up this year.  We finally managed to get it up and decorated.  I use the term “we” loosely.  In years past it was a family affair, this tree decorating thing.  I would prepare an abundance of junk food and we would make a party of it.  It evolved into a tradition with the same foods being prepared every year and the boys all joining in to get the ornaments on the tree.  Now that they are older and busy with much more important things like girlfriends and video games, they still show up for the party, but now it’s only for the food.  They make a plate and disappear back upstairs or park themselves on the couch to shout instructions to those of us trying to adorn the evergreen.  This year proved no different.  The only time the older boys hung an ornament was when we ran across one they had created or one that had their name on it.  We all have special ornaments that carry special memories for us, even J. 

Many years ago, when we were a young, broke couple with a couple of kids and continuing his college education was still a dream, I bought J a Ga Tech ornament.  It was gold and black and had Buzz the bee on it.  Every year, even if he did nothing else, J would hang his Ga Tech ornament.  This year, however, I feared the tradition may come to an end.  I couldn’t find it!  I reached the bottom of the box and it was nowhere in sight.  After digging around a bit, I found it down in the corner under some packing paper.  I was so excited.  J had already gone back upstairs so I walked over to the bottom of the stairs and, holding it proudly up by it’s little metal hook, I shouted “J! I found your Ga Tech ornament!!”  It was at that moment that the little metal hood that had steadfastly secured this little gold ball to nearly 20 different Christmas trees finally gave way.  As if in slow motion, I watched in horror as the much loved gold and black ball with the cute picture of Buzz on the side hit the hard wood floor and shattered into a million pieces. In disbelief, I realized I stood holding nothing but the top of that little metal hook.  My glorious shout of victory upon finding it was immediately followed up by an incredulous shout of “J! I broke your Ga Tech ornament!”  He told me later he thought I was kidding him.  Sadly, I was not.  

Is there a lesson here, you ask?  Well, yes dear reader! There is always a lesson!  I guess you could say I had become somewhat complacent about my ornaments.  I had not really looked at them, checked them over for damage or weakness in, well, ever! So it completely caught me off guard when it broke.  I am reminded of the scripture that says “Be careful when you think you stand, lest you fall”.  I had assumed the little gold hook would continue to hold the same as it always had, and therein I made my mistake – I assumed.

One thing I have learned, is the danger of assumptions.  We can get into trouble when we assume the Lord is telling us to ______________________, (fill in the blank) just because our friends or family members are doing it. It could be working in the nursery at church or teaching a Sunday school class, singing in the choir, reading that popular book, shaving the cat, taking underwater basket weaving, bull-fighting, mud wrestling or belly-dancing.  (is it just me, or did that list somehow go waaaay off track???)  Here’s the deal, even good deeds done for the wrong reasons become bad.  There is a verse in Ephesians 2:10  For we are God’s handiwork created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Pay attention to the last little bit of the verse – “God prepared in advance for US to do”.  That is a personal thing, that’s not really a royal “us” there.  God has a plan for each one of us that includes certain tasks for us to do.  What do you think happens when we decide to take on something the Lord does not mean for us to attempt?  Sure, in our natural giftings we can manage to achieve some success at times, but at what cost?  If we are doing something not mean for us, that means it is meant for someone else.  If we are doing it, that means they are not doing it.  (I know that’s a difficult concept for some, but stick with me here)  If they are not doing what the Lord means for them to do, they are not learning the lessons the Lord had for them to learn as they completed that task, whatever it may be. So while we may be fulfilling our need to be Susie Spiritual, we are robbing a brother or sister of a blessing from the Lord.  Just because we can do something, doesn’t mean that we should. The Lord is pleased with a heart that desires to serve others, but let’s make sure that as we are busy working for him, that we are not simply attempting to fill the places in our heart meant for relationship with him with that busyness.   It’s important to not assume that just because there is a need and you can, that you are the one meant to fill it.

 

Assumptions can get us into trouble.  They can take us places we were never meant to be and therefore don’t have the grace for.  In the coming year one of my goals is to stay on track a little better, to exercise my faith by listening for his voice.  Lately, the only exercise I seem to get is when I jump to conclusions and run off at the mouth! But I digress... I challenge you, my lovely friends, to be careful not to fall into the old routine, the usual way of doing things simply because it is the way you have always done them.  Are you assuming that is the way it will always be?  I gladly share with you a page from the book of insanity that is my life so you may be spared the lesson I learned.  Assume nothing! Ask the Lord to show you where he may be leading you in the new year, what new things he may have for you and what new lessons there are to be learned. But don’t be surprised when the Lord shows up and asks you to take on something new, something out of your comfort zone. And when you’re standing on the edge of that cliff and the Lord tell you to step on out into thin air, don’t assume that he’s going to catch you.  He may just be teaching you to fly. 

Until next time I’ll be here, checking my hooks and cleaning up shards of gold and black glass as the fragrance of evergreen, pizza rolls and nacho dip still linger on the air...

As always, I’m soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

The Psychology of smelly cats and melted wax

It's been quite a while since I sat down and put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, in order to share with you the strange ramblings in my head.  But I had an interesting thing happen this morning and that, coupled with the throngs (at least 2 or 3!) of people who have emailed me to ask when I would write again, I decided it was time to welcome you into my slightly off-kilter world once again. 

Those who know me IRL and some of you who are my virtual friends only, know that I returned to school this past year.  I am well on my way to finally earning my degree in Psychology.  I thought since I had spent so much time in therapy already I should have a pretty good handle on things.  So I commandeered the front room, as we call it, and turned it into my office.  I got a desk (thanks, Mom!), painted the walls, got some shelving (again, thanks, Mom!) and even let J have a little table across from me to do whatever it is he does in his home office.  The problem is there is one other thing that had to stay in my office; Koko's litter box.  I know what you're thinking, but there was no other place for it and since he is carrying on a strange bromance with one of my boys, I couldn't very well toss the little furball out and break up such a wonderful example of cross-species male bonding.  So the box is in my office but I did set up a quaint little picture frame screen to shield it and add privacy.  The privacy is for me, he certainly doesn't care!  As you can see from the picture that I hopefully was able to upload here, there are, as of yet, no pictures in the frames but I'm working on it. The boys most helpfully suggested pictures with different poses of the different cats utilizing the hidden receptacle but I quickly vetoed their gross, although bizarrely clever idea.

 Koko is an interesting cat.  He was a stray that found a home with us a while back and I don't think he had his mommy cat long enough as he has a tendency to try to nurse your ear if you let him.  (that's a different post all together)  Here's the thing with Koko though, as cute as he is, as funny as he is and as much as I enjoy him, he does things behind that screen that have made wallpaper remover unnecessary.  It never fails when I am racing a deadline on an important assignment he will hear the call of nature and make a visit to my office.  Sometimes I am sure I can hear him muttering in his little kitty voice in his hidden corner; "meow! what did I eat?!  Wow!  I don't remember that!" as the foul fog slowly drifts over my office in a manner similar to the old horror movie "The Mist".   I've gone through 2 goldfish and several house plants and I finally decided something had to be done!

All of that leads me to today's little lesson.  Have you guys seen the plug in wax warmers?  They are cute little ceramic bowls that plug in and when you put a cube of vanilla scented wax on the plate that sits on them, it melts and releases a lovely cat box odor covering fragrance.  So when Koko came running, and I do mean RUNNING, down the stairs this morning and went straight behind the screen, I knew what was coming.  So I plugged in my new little contraption and waited for the lovely fragrance.  A few minutes later, I removed my gas mask to test the air quality and was disappointed to find it still not breathable.  When I checked my little gadget, I found it was hot.  It was so hot, in fact, that the bottom of it had slightly melted the plastic on which I had set it but the plate where you put the wax was barely warm!  I fiddled with it (yes, it's a word, it's a Southern thing!) and fiddled with it.  It was so hot, I had to use pot holders to move it around and I still couldn't figure out why it wasn't working.  I couldn't hold my breath much longer so I had to work something out.  I could see that the plate that held the wax didn't sit right down on the little bowl thingy, that had to be the problem!  I picked it up and turned it over to look at the bottom, and that's when it hit me.  I had the bowl upside down.  I had set the plate on the bottom of the bowl and put the heating element directly down on the plastic!  In my defense, that is the way it was in the box, I had just taken it out and plugged it in!  After setting things right, the wax melted and it now smells better in here, a little like vanilla scented cat litter, but I digress..... 

Those of you who are frequent visitors to the intricacies of my life know there is always something else to the story and this one is no different.  How much time did I waste holding my breath, melting plastic and generally fussy with things unnecessarily?  All I needed to do was to retrieve the instructions from the box in the trash where I had filed them and read!  I thought I had it all figure out on my own.  How many times in life have we done the same thing?  There is a verse that says "There can be a way that seems right to a person, but at it's end are the ways of death" (Proverbs 14:20 CJB)
Just like I had been given instructions on the proper set up and use of my wax melter thingy, we have been given instructions on the best way to walk out our lives.  We have been given the word in written form and, even better, we have complete access to the author so we can be sure we are understanding it.  I lost time messing around with my gadget, but worse, I have, many times, lost time going down the wrong path because I didn't consult my instruction manual.  I lost time wandering down the path of unforgiveness, the road of gossip, the trail of judgement, and the avenue of pride.  It was only when I finally realized things were not going as they should, that I was not where I wanted to be, that I went back, checked the instructions and figured out where I went wrong.  After that, it wasn't long before things started smelling a lot better in my life! 

So that is my challenge to you, my dear readers.  Hang on to that instruction manual, better yet, hang out in it, soaking up every word. And when you have trouble getting a grip on what it is saying to you, you can always ask the author.  He's sitting right there with you.  There is no need to stumble around in the smelly darkness trying to figure out how to work things on your own.  Be smart! Go read the instructions! 

Until next time, I'll be here, studying hard, reading the instructions, psychoanalyzing the cat,
and transferring my gas mask to the boys bathroom.  It's almost time to clean it, but that's another smelly post for another time!

As always, I am soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Hair Cuts, Sweaty Boys and Growth Hormones

Summer is finally coming to an end.  In some ways it feels as if it has lasted two lifetimes but that is not unusual when you have 57 boys in your house.  (those of you who know me, know that I never and I mean never exaggerate!)  In other ways, it feels as if I only blinked twice and fall is on the horizon.  School starts back, for us, Monday. The new school clothes have been purchased, the needed supplies are stacked in the dining room waiting to be shoved into new backpacks and school lunch goodies line the pantry.  The only thing left, was the necessary back to school haircuts.  

            

Yesterday found Scamp and I at the salon, or as an 8yr old boy calls it, “the haircut place”.  His golden curls had been let go for the summer and now framed his face beautifully and rested down on his shoulders in a manner quick to bring flashes of envy to every female.  He is still my baby and I don’t mind if he looks the part.  He jumped up into the chair and I, trusting the friend who was doing the cutting, went and sat down out front to get some reading done.  I had no idea this so called “friend” either secretly hated me or held a grudge against angelic looking little boys.  Imagine my shock when, a mere 15 minutes later, a half-grown boy walked up to me and called me mom!  I almost expected him to ask for the car keys!  His curls, while still very much there, were short and manageable and neat.  In actuality, she had done exactly what I had asked her to, but I had no idea what would be the outcome!  Somehow, in that short window, with nothing more than a spray bottle, a pair of scissors, and a comb, she had transformed my baby!  ( I thought that was water in the spray bottle. Now I’m wondering if it was growth hormones!)

It was one of those pivotal moments we sometimes have as parents, one of those moments when you look down and realize you have crossed into the next phase in the life of your child and you never even saw it coming.  Suddenly, my little Scamp seemed to talk more and express himself better.  He stood a little taller and was a little more independent.  All of this happened in the course of one 15 minute haircut.  Or did it?  If I step away from it and try to gain a little perspective, I am forced to admit these changes have been coming for a while, no matter how hard I tried to make it not so.  He was already growing up, I just couldn’t see what he was becoming because I couldn’t let go of what he once was. 

Did you read that last sentence – I mean really read it?  How many times have we missed out on something new the Lord was doing because we couldn’t let go of the things he had already done?  It can cause such turmoil in your life and in your heart.  Scamp had already left toddlerhood long ago, zoomed through the preschool age and made short work of 1^st and 2^nd grade but I had somehow almost missed it totally because in my head he was still my baby.  I wonder how much of this stage I would have missed out on because I couldn’t see it for what it was.  You see, it doesn’t matter if I realize it or if I acknowledge it, he is growing up.  There is a statement that I like to say to my boys that annoys them (why do you think I say it to them?! A mom needs to have a little fun!); “your acceptance of the truth is not necessary to establish it as truth”.  In kid terms; “it is what it is whether you like it or not!” 

There are advantages to my experience yesterday at “the haircut place”.  It has made me so much more aware of the reality of where my kids are in their lives, and because of that, I am more appreciative of the time I have with them.   Last night, as I was putting Scamp to bed, I laid down beside him and shared his pillow for just a bit.  He put his put his arm around my neck, snuggled down on my shoulder and said “you’re my best girl”.  When I could speak again, I told him he was my best boy.  Then he smiled so sweetly, gave me a kiss and closed his eyes.  I lay there holding my now half-grown youngin and tried to capture in my mind exactly the way that moment felt; the softness of his now shortened curls on my cheek, the feel of his head on my shoulder, the way his breathing became slower and deeper as he dozed and even the way he smelled. It is no longer that indescribable baby fragrance of powder and formula and diapers. Now it’s more the smell of sweat, creek water, dirt, nerf guns and maybe little green crabapples.  So goes the way of life and raising boys.

My challenge to you this week is to take a good look at those around you and yourself.  Ask the Lord to open your eyes to let you really see your loved ones as they are now, in this moment, today.  Let us not allow the treasured memories of what once was hamper our ability to make and enjoy delightful new ones. Let’s live in today’s reality.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to rescue the cat from the dryer.  It seems third graders have some unique ideas of fun!

Till next time, I’ll be here – sniffling a little, snuggling a little, but mostly learning to live in the moment because one trip to the salon taught me an important lesson.  When you’re raising kids, there’s no time to blink!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Purple puppies and sprained ankles

Today was a bittersweet day; graduation day for Surfer Boy.  I'm really not sure how it got to this point so quickly, but let me back up and start a few weeks ago to tell this story.......

Graduation is coming and my house could use being bulldozed and built again  a little touching up to get ready for the overnight guests as well as the graduation party planned.  So I planned a week of painting and other projects to be done the week or so before the in-laws arrived.  It was all going semi according to plan when J threw a wrench in the works.  It seems that his boss required him to travel the last 4 days before his parents arrived.  He would not get home before they got here.  Okay, so all the projects I needed him to do for me, I would have to do myself.  "That's okay", I thought, "I can do this. I'm a grown, clumsy  competent woman.  I can handle this."  I didn't worry too much.  I can handle a paint brush and screw driver as well as the next person.  I had no idea the fate that awaited me.

Picture it; it's Friday night and J is taking me out to dinner.  I've been working hard, he's about to leave and we need a little couple time.  I am waltzing  floating gliding  slumping down the stairs carrying my cup of coffee when the unthinkable happens.  Actually, I guess it wasn't actually unthinkable, I mean it really shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone who knows me.  Anyway, I fell.  Not your typical stumble-down-a-few-stairs-grab-the-rail-and-recover type of fall.  Nope, one foot slipped right off the front of the stair as I stepped down and the other one doubled back up under me and I fell, in a most unladylike way, down 2/3 of the stairs.  J could hear me hollering from outside.  I did not, however, spill my coffee!  What did you expect, it was in my favorite mug!  After a trip to the ER, final outcome - not broken, but a bad sprain.  So I found myself, in an air cast, on crutches, a house full of half finished painting projects, with a husband headed out of town and a whole passel of out of town guests coming in!  That's how the dog ended up purple.  Confused yet?  Keep reading.....

Because of my injury, I enlisted the help of the teenagers in the house.  Now before you are all impressed by their generous offer of service, it came at a price.  No, literally, a price.  It cost me a fortune to pay them to help me!  So that's how I ended up balanced on one foot on a ladder painting the upstairs hall bathroom while Surfer Boy's girlfriend, hereby referred to as Chinadoll because she looks like one, painted the down stairs bath a beautiful shade of lilac purple.  As I was teetering up on this ladder I caught Monkey Boy out of the corner of my eye slip past the bathroom door in a rather suspicious manner.  I jumped gracefully down  scrambled like a spider monkey down the ladder and caught him right as he was heading towards my bathroom.  "What's up?" I asked.  I did not expect his answer.  "Well," he said, "your dog is purple".  Not something you hear every day.  I have to admit that statement caught me a little off guard.  He turned around, holding my pretty little, pure white, bichon puppy straight out in front of him so I could see her entire side now matched the walls in the downstairs bath!  It seems a little goofing off happened and she was caught in the cross fire.  She looked like a punk rock pup.  All she was missing was a spiked collar and a few piercings!

We survived the home makeover, J returned, bringing his parents with him, the party went off with only several major, but survivable problems and, this morning, Surfer Boy and Chinadoll became graduates!  Now comes the fun part!

Surfer is feeling a little at loose ends.  Suddenly, he is no longer what he has been for the vast majority of his life; a student.   Sure, there are bigger and better things coming, but right now, he finds himself in the hallway on the way to the next open door.  It's a position that we can find a little overwhelming.

I have been in that place before, and I would bet that most of you have too.  You know it, that time when you know the Lord is moving out from something, but you're not quite sure what He's moving you into.  It's easy to be overwhelmed by frustration or anxiety.  It's normal to try to hang on to what we've known before, what we've trusted, what's comfortable.  But if we do that, we will never be able to move into what the Lord has for us.  Sure, we could sit down on the floor and refuse to move another foot.  We could hang on to the door frame in fear that the Holy Spirit is going to bodily move us from one place to another.  In most cases, it ain't gonna happen.  The Lord is a gentleman and he waits.  He waits for us to decide we want to move, he waits for us to get tired of sitting in the floor and get up and start walking again.  Sure, it can be scary, it can be overwhelming, it can be downright terrifying. But it can also be exciting, rewarding and exhilarating! 

My question to you this week, dear readers, is this;  How will you handle your hallways?  Will you see them as a place of transition or will you use them as real estate on which to build a summer home and stay a while?  Lets move! Lets step out in faith and run down the hallway after him!

This week, while I'm in my hallway, I'm going to challenge myself to keep moving forward, to not look back to where I was, but look with expectation to where he is taking me.  I would encourage you to do the same.

Meanwhile, I'll be here, rocking these crutches and using them to try to corral a purple pooch.  Till next time, I'm....

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Why I Now Prefer Bacon

                                                                    (the guilty one)


It's raining.  It's a rainy Saturday afternoon and I am not napping.  Instead, I am sitting in my (newly painted and, might I say, beautiful!) office.  Why, you ask?  Have you ever been so filled up, that if you didn't let something out, you were going to bust a gut?  (It's a southern saying, let your imagination work on it)  That pretty much describes me this afternoon.

It was the weekend of our annual women's/teen girl's conference at church and, as always, Pastor Laura puts on a heck of shindig!

I arrived at the church Friday afternoon along with about 40 other women.  I stopped off at the registration desk to pick up all the swag the ladies had been so cool to fix up for me.  There was the obligatory note pad and pen (presumably so we could jot down all the cool stuff we heard), a schedule of events (so we could be sure we were always in the right place at the right time), a few peppermints (so those praying for us would not be slain in the spirit by all the coffee breath), and a pink t-shirt.  In my case, a large, pink t-shirt.   

The first session was entitled "Hot and Holy Matrimony".  I went in, found a seat and sat like a baby bird with my mouth open to the ceiling waiting to be fed.  Those who know me have seen me sit like that before, but usually around the buffet table, but that is a different blog all together.  I had never heard our speaker, Deanna Shroder, but when she walked up in a leopard print jacket, skinny jeans and stilettos, I developed an instant girl crush!  I can no longer wear shoes like that.  As I aged and gave birth to so many maniacal, insanity producing offspring beautiful little boys, I found my chest never returned to it's pre-pregnancy size.  Now if I try to wear those heels, I tip forward just enough that the extra weight of "the girls" causes me to fall right on my face.  Face down is not really a good look for me, although from the ankle down, I look fabulous!  But I digress.......

I have never thought of myself as a prude, I'm not one to giggle over the anatomically correct names for body parts or blush when my pastor's wife mentioned "divine fellowship" in our marriage sermon.  All of that flies out the window, however, when you bring in the "O" word.  I realize this was a group of married (mostly) women, sitting in a women's conference, listening to a teaching entitled "HOT and holy matrimony".  All that aside, I don't know that I will ever reach the point where I can hear that word, that many times, IN THE CHURCH.  I felt a little like I did in 6th grade when I decided I was grown up enough to use the "F" word.  It came out of my mouth one time.  The coolness factor is greatly reduced when you then turn and look around to be sure your mom didn't hear you!  That's kind of the way it was during this teaching.  I kept expecting to hear my mother calling out to me from the sound booth upstairs and I was sure she would be using my full name like she did the time she caught me shutting my little brother up in the dryer.  But, again, I digress......

We had a couple of really great sessions yesterday afternoon and a wonderfully anointed service last night.  I went home tired, but excited for what the Lord had in store for the next day.

This morning, I got up to a quiet house.  Everyone else was still sleeping and the house had that peaceful, all is right with the world, feeling.  I had laid my clothes out the night before.  We were all supposed to wear our pink t-shirts so I pulled out my fairly new mint green jeans and pink tennis shoes to complete my oh so fashionable outfit.  I guess I spent a little too much time enjoying my cup of coffee and facebook because I suddenly realized I was running out of time and would have to put a move on!  I was glad I had laid everything out the night before.  I rushed through my make-up, argued with my hair a little and then grabbed my clothes.  I don't know why I bought mint green jeans.  After the 80's I said I would never buy colored denim again.  I had a sudden desire for big hair and leg warmers.  They always said the higher your hair, the closer to Jesus, but another blog, again.  With not much time to spare, I slipped my t-shirt on, or I should I say I attempted to slip my t-shirt on.  You see, when I filled out my initial registration paperwork I was going to request a certain size shirt. (no, I will not tell you what size I wear! I can't believe you would even ask!) The person working the registration table (the one that was once a friend of mine!) said "oh no! you don't need that size!  You need the size below that!" I tried to tell her she was wrong, but she just kept on and on and on and eventually, my vanity overtook my common sense and I ordered the size she told me to.  That's how I found myself with only minutes to spare and a shirt whose arms fit more like gloves than sleeves.  I looked like a large, pink sausage.  I have had more attractive moments in my life.  This was not, however, my first morning being fat.  I knew what to do.  I started pulling and tugging and stretching that shirt.  J wasn't quite sure what to think about the noises flowing from behind the bathroom door.  He wasn't sure if I was getting dressed or passing a kidney stone!

I did eventually get that shirt to the point where could wear it, of course, it now has no seams in the arms, but I can wear it without scaring any small children I might meet.  Today's conference was wonderful.  The Lord moved and I was blessed to spend time with his children in his presence.  But here's the deal - I almost missed it.  When I was staring in my early morning mirror at a large hunk of pink breakfast meat, I very nearly gave up and went back to bed.  I certainly did not want to be the only one not wearing pink.  I knew that room was going to look like the energizer bunny had given birth to a multitude of pink offspring, who then congregated all in one room and I didn't want to be the one who stood out, not that I have to be miss-dressed to stand out!

I could have let that little shirt mishap, and I do mean little, keep me from my blessing.  I could have climbed right back into my comfy bed.  I could have been satisfied to have a cool new pink cleaning rag and a few extra hours of sleep.  I could have, but I chose not to.  How many times have we allowed a speed bump to take on the proportions of mountain in our lives?  Why do we allow a pebble to derail our locomotive?  a single raindrop ruin our parade, a tiny tap pop our balloon, a, a, a,....  okay, I'm out of metophores!  But you get the picture!  It's time to become women of resolve!  It's time to set our face to the prize and let nothing stop us from gaining entrance into his presence.  Let us not be turned away from anything the Lord has for us by anything the enemy can throw at us.  It's happens every day.  Are you surprised when you sit down with the word and the phone rings, or the baby wakes up or someone knocks on the door, or you have to go pull your 3 yr old off the top of a 30 foot windmill?  Oh! does that last one only happen to me?  sorry! that's a story for a different time!  My point is, we have a foe, a defeated foe, but a foe nonetheless.  Why are we then surprised when he comes against us in any way?  It's time to rise up, ladies.

My challenge to you this week is to be aware of the little things the enemy uses to try to dissuade us from pressing into all the Lord has for us.  I'm as guilty as the next one, but this morning, the Lord called me on it.  He didn't allow me to take my pink pork belly back to bed and, I have to say, I am so glad that he didn't because I would have missed out on an opportunity to learn something new about Him.  Isn't that what it's all about anyway - not just learning about him, but also, learning him?

So forge ahead! Rise up! Sally forth! Put the pedal to the metal! Haul buns!..........uhmmm.... okay, that's all I've got, but you get the message.  Meanwhile, I'll be here, peeling off this shirt and discovering a new appreciation for the people who stuff the sausage.  Tomorrow morning I think I'll stick with bacon.  I'm just saying, painful memories and all.......  till then, I'm

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor