Tag!

Prompt:  Post and blog about the 6th picture in the 6th folder on your computer.

Eve is a gymnast.  Or was a gymnast.  I'm not sure what to call her anymore.  I'd love to see her keep being a gymnast, but for now, it's not in the budget, and she's not really into keeping up her skills.  But there was a time that the girl was a handstand machine.  I mean it.

But she's also been a hesitant learner, and this picture was taken because Eve was doing that thing that we all do - failing to admit the truth about herself.  This picture was taken after being posed in this position.  Another one had been taken previously of her own version of this stance... the version where her arms were falling and her back was not straight.  "Stand up straight" "Keep your arms straight" We'd told her over and over, but each time she insisted that she already had the posture exactly how she was supposed to.

It took the pictures to show her where things were wrong.

Sometimes I wish there was a camera to show me that kind of thing with my character.  I've had things pointed out to me about myself... I've been told to be more this or do such-and-such that way. And I've insisted that I have been exactly the way I'm supposed to.  But looking back, I can see how I wasn't. 

It would hurt, but wouldn't it also be nice to have some concrete evidence in the moment that was right there telling you, "Ummm... no.  You're not being the person you think you're being." 

California

Prompt: What was your big dream for yourself when you were 18 and had graduated from high school?

Something in me was saying "California."  It's nothing mysterious.  It was simply being young and into Counting Crows.  They just made it sound like the place to be.  In the midst of the depressing break ups, the nightmare filled sleeping, and just the overall loneliness of life, California was the one bright light in Duritz's lyrics.  

It was far away, California.  Not that I had anything to run from.  At 18, I had my life ahead of me, and it was looking pretty good.  I was headed to school at Purdue, to study History and English in preparation for law school.  My aspirations were torn between working in prosecution or civil rights, mainly because my scope of the law was so small that I didn't know what else there was out there to do.  It was only later, through life experience, that I realized there are other parts of the system that would allow me to not defend scumbags.  Like family law, for instance.  Working on adoptions.  Or contract law, as well.

But anyway, at 18 I was not running from anything.  I just wanted to experience a daily dose of palm trees and the beach.  I just wanted to know what it would be like to be somewhere that had health food stores bigger than my local grocery (this was before Trader Joe's was a household name in the mid-west - not that I've ever been to one).

 There was something almost foreign about California to a girl that grew up in icy winters (sans real snow, of course) and frizzy-hair-humid summers.  It was like going to a new country where they speak my language.  

I didn't quite have life figured out past the point of being in California.  I didn't know what daily life would look like, whether I would enjoy my job or meet a man and start a family.  I just saw easy living and laid back healing... the kind that comes after long Decembers.

Right Now

Prompt:  Right now is the best time to start.  What is your first step?

Well, I guess this isn't going to be anything profound, but this house is getting to me.  Oh, not the actual house... just the "not quite moved in" status of our belongings.

It's been just over a month now, and it feels like there's still a long way to go.  We're done with the big stuff.  All the furniture is arranged.  Clothes are hung.  Kitchen is arranged in working order.  It all has been for 4 weeks.  But that other stuff.  All the little things that took so long to pack, are taking even longer to unpack. 

And my first step towards fixing that is tiny.  Open a box.

I know it's that simple.  But behind that simple step is other more complex things.  Decisions have to be made about where to put things.  Organizing needs to be done, some organizing containers need to be purchased.  But before I even know what I need to organize, I must open that box.

UGH!

I did actually unpack a little bit today, and it felt good, but I tell you what... opening up a box and unpacking... just one box... wore me out.  Still, that's one box down.  If I do this every day, we should be moved in by Christmas!

What Bugs Me

Prompt: 5 of my absolute worst pet peeves...

1. Facebook statuses about the weather. 

I'm 32, and over the course of time, I've noticed that every single year, it gets hot in the summer.  It gets really hot.  Like I walk outside and sweat.  Can you believe it?  But eventually, we have 2 weeks of nice weather, and then it gets cold.  Like break out the fur-lined ear muffs cold.  Freaking, who-would-have-thought-it-would-ever-get-this-cold-6-months-ago? cold.  And we all swear that we will never complain about the sun again.  But first, we endure the rain of spring.   The grass gets mushy and nice days are too few before this whole cycle starts over again.  EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR.  Okay?  Every year.  So, really... do we all need to put up a status update about it?

2.  Cars that stop when I'm waiting to cross the not-busy street with my 3-year-old.

I'm trying to be a responsible parent and teach my child not to cross when there are cars in the road.  This makes it very difficult as he is not really able to tell that you've slowed down enough for me to cross.  If you would just politely continue driving, I will cross the street after you pass... you know, the way I've told my child we should do it.

3. When I correct my child and someone else then encourages the behavior again.

I can't think of an example, but trust me, it happens.

4. When I have to drag Billy to bed, and then he gets ready faster than I do and covers his face with the comforter, as if the light in the bathroom is just soooooo burdensome.

Ummmm... you wouldn't be in bed if it weren't for me, so you could at least just hang out and wait for me like a normal person.  (Of course, then I couldn't get back at you by sprawling across the whole bed and not letting you in when I get there first.)

5. When people talk bad about their spouse in public.

I would not have said #4 about Billy except that we joke about it all the time.  And it's not really that big of a thing.  But I really hate it when people are constantly tearing down their spouse.  It's very unbecoming and destructive.

Billy

Prompt: Describe your significant other's most attractive quality (on the inside).

It's funny, because I'm the details person.  I'm the one that gets uber focused on something and can't let it go until it makes sense.  I'm the one that wants everything to line up, to be consistent and void of cognitive dissonance.

But when I think about Billy's most attractive quality, there's something that I know I can count on.  Billy points me to Jesus.

The Gospel of Jesus has taken a hold of his heart in amazing ways, and I get to witness it every day.  I get to watch the way he leads our small group through hard conversations.  I get to see when he impresses on our children the truth that nothing they do can change their standing before God.  Nothing.  Nothing good they do can earn God's pleasure.  Nothing bad they do can take it away.  God smiles at Jesus in them, and their actions do not affect their standing before God.

Sometimes... okay... most of the time, when I'm in the middle of my own mental and emotional turmoil, it's hard to hear Billy's Jesus talk.  It's hard to have him ask me to stop and think about what I'm not believing about the Gospel.  I tell him that I don't like to think of it that way.  I don't want to always look at my whining sessions as sin.  I just want to get it out of my system and move on.

But that doesn't deal with the real thing, and Billy knows it.  Getting things off my chest so I can feel better is a cop-out.  Something else will eventually come along that gets me all hot and bothered.  I mean, sure, just getting it out there releases some tension, but it doesn't deal with why things really bothered me in the first place.

But God uses Billy to show me that when I feel offended by something someone else said or did to me, it's typically because I was putting more stock in what they think of me than what God thinks of me.  In that moment, I'm not believing that God thinks I'm beautiful regardless of whether someone else understands or respects me.  When I fly off the handle with my kids, it's usually because I am not believing that God has given me everything I need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3-4), including patience. 

When I feel like a failure, it's because I've forgotten that I'm more than a conqueror in Christ (Romans 8:37)

When I feel impressed with myself, it's because I have forgotten that all my righteousness is as filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6). 

Billy spurs me on to keep the Word of God as my authority in life.  He shows me everyday that I need Jesus.

He reminds me that I am nothing without Jesus, but that with Jesus, I am beautiful royalty.  Without Him, I was a slave to sin, but in Him I am the righteousness of God.

I Wanna Dance with Somebody

Prompt: What was the first CD (or record or cassette) you ever purchased? Write about the way that particular album made you feel then. Write about how it makes you feel now.

I'm not sure how old I was. Looking back, it seems like I was just in 1st or second grade, but I can't be sure of that.  There's nothing that I recall to tie it into, as I normally do to remember things from so long ago.  I seem to have a small recollection of living in a particular house that we moved from when I was 8, so I'm going with it.

My sister was into Whitney Houston, and really... what little sister doesn't want to emulate their older sibling?  So, somehow, I bought the record single of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody."  I can remember the cover vividly.  Whitney on the front with untamed hair, a white tank top and tight jeans.  Her thumb is tucked around the hem of her tank pulling it up to show her stomach.  I thought she was so cool.

And I thought I was grown up.  To have my own record of real songs.  I'd had kiddie stuff before.  I can recall some of the things that I had from childhood just as if it were yesterday, pulling from my mental file of relate-able lyrics, and singing them when the timing is right (a wonderful ability I got from my mom, which my sister possesses, too).  Things like Cabbage Patch Kids and Psalty.


So, this Whitney Houston thing was a big deal.  I had songs by a grown up that was for grown ups.  


Looking back, it's funny to think of how I used that album.  I put it on my Fisher Price record player, got my toys out, and made Barbie give concerts to the other dolls.  I also did this with my American Tale record.  I was still a kid.


It's funny how  you grow up and think that things are such a big deal.  Yet as I look back, I can see that this record did little to truly comment on the reality of my state.  I was still a kid, with or without that record.


When we're little, it seems that we think some outer source can contribute to our identity.  I don't think that I thought, "I'm grown up, so I should get this record."  It was more, "I want to be grown up, so I should get this record."


I guess I realize that while I can look at my record and see that it wasn't the catalyst for growing up, I'm not sure I always can look at things around me to see that now.  Sure, I've grown in that.  But sometimes, maybe I still think "I want to be ___________, so I should get _________."

Maybe sometimes, I still want to be something I'm not, and I still think I will become that by turning to something material outside of myself.  


Right now, I want to be someone artsy.  There have been times in my past that I have pursued arts much more than now.  I guess I'm starting to see that as I approach that desire to regain my creativity and personal style, I need to investigate who I am before I rely on a method, an object, or a persona to simply carry me down a path of self-delusion.

Writer's Workshop

So... for those of you left.  Hmmm... I'm not sure where to start, cause this isn't really for you.  It's for me.  And I have Misty to thank.  It all started when her annual summer book club came along a couple of months ago.  Realizing that I'd read very few fiction books since last year's rendezvous, I knew I had to be part of it again.

The first book was two months ago, but I can't get it out of my mind.  I'll save the tedium of writing the synopsis, but let's just say I want to write.  I want to write like I never have before, honestly. 

Writing is something that I've always "come back to."  I remember a friend of mine telling me that I needed to be a writer.  At the time, I thought I wanted to be a police officer.  But this friend read a couple of things I had recently written, and told me that I was meant to write.  I politely shrugged my shoulders and told him, "You want me to write a lot more than I want to write."

So, writing has always been something that I've done when I didn't know what else to do, something that fell to me because no one else was capable, something that brought in some extra money because it was the easy, obvious solution for a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom.

And then... well, my magazine closed down, and I was just too lazy to send out queries and develop new relationships with editors.  It was just too much work.  No thanks.

And it's been years, now.  Not several years, but years nonetheless.  2 1/2 years since I really wrote anything of substance.  (pg. 8 of the pdf)

It had become a way of life to simply move through events without taking much time for my most effective method of processing.  And then this book.

I can't shake it.  And I can't commit, either.  Sigh.

So, I have a small plan, and you get to watch it unfold or not.  I wish I could get on here and say, "This is what you'll see!"  But honestly... well, right now I'm just hoping I'll find my way back to this blog in a few days and follow through.

My plan is to write for 15 minutes, 2 days a week.  That's it.  And I'll get my ideas from Mama Kat.

I hope to see you soon.

Late Night

I should be in bed.  I know I say that a lot, although it has been less frequent as of late.  But tonight, I really should be in bed.

Tomorrow, I'll wake up at 7:00 to an otherwise empty bed.  And that bed will be all mine for 4 nights.  Which I'm actually looking forward to.  Oh, no... I'm not dreading the night times.  It's the awake times.  It's the "I have 3 lengthy errands, homeschooling, and dinner preparations to make tomorrow and I will be alone with the kids on little sleep."  That's what I'm dreading.

Billy leaves for Mexico tomorrow at freaking 6:30 am.  It's Don's wedding, and I have to miss it.  I'm torn over that part, honestly.  Not that there was any possibility of me going, plus I get to hang out with Amanda in Oklahoma this fall as my consolation.  (er... that sounds bad cause Amanda is not a consolation prize, but that upcoming trip has been quite a redeeming factor.)

So, I can't sleep, but the trip isn't the cause at all.  It's this whole church planting thing and the attached divisions it seems to cause each time it's name is mentioned.  And I don't even want to go into it.  Here's me editing myself for my 2 readers... literally... 2 readers. 

But the thing is that I've actually been thinking of dusting off and opening up this here blog again.  I kinda think I'm crazy for thinking that.  Not that I have time, but maybe this time I won't need the pressure of posting for other people.  Maybe I'll just post when I feel like it, and it won't be often, but it will be something for me.

(And if blogger would like to quit jankin out every time I hit enter, then I would be more likely to actually go through with this idea.)

 So... we'll see... you might see more of me.  Or you might not.

Talent

So, it's been over 2 months now since I've posted anything, and I'm sure you're ready to hear the profound thoughts that have spurred me to dust off the ol' blog. If so, I'm sorry to say, you'll be sorely disappointed. I'm only here to complain.

Billy and I don't watch a lot of TV. We made a decision a long time ago to steer clear of cable, since it's just expensive smut. But we have found the vast network of TV available online. Currently, we're enjoying the Piers Morgan shows - America's Got Talent and old episodes of The Celebrity Apprentice.

Celebrity Apprentice is its own beast, but I'm here to ridicule the top picks for tonight's finale episode of America's Got Talent. The biggest disgust is Grandma Lee. She has one joke, and well, it's just not funny. Who really wants to listen to an old lady talk about sex? (Yes, I know... apparently several people want to since she keeps getting voted back.)

But what I really don't like is how the show basically turned into a singing competition. Out of the 10 finalists, 6 of them are singers. Ummm... hello? We already have a singing competition. It's called American Idol. How about we branch out a little and have a real talent competition. Cause sorry, but learning a new song in a week is WAY easier than coming up with a new dance routine that 5+ people have to be perfectly in sync. It's also WAY easier than training a dog in a new routine. I'm not a dog people, but personally, I would've liked to see the frisbee-catching dog make it. I mean, c'mon! His owner had to quit his job to compete, and he was way more impressive than any of the singers.

But if we're gonna make it a singing competition, why do people keep voting for the lame-o ones? I mean, I like Kevin Skinner as much as the next non-hick. But all he's done is slow ballads where he shakes notes cause he's too emotional while he performs. I would have much rather seen Mia Boostrom perform another amazing song like "Hallelujah."

Anyway, I didn't get to vote cause the downside of internet watching is that you get it a day late. But out of the 10 finalists tonight, my top pick is The Fab Five. The bring it every week with lots of energy, creative new moves, and super tight execution. But I'd still be happy with Hairo Torres or Recycled Percussion. Basically, any of the "variety" type acts... except Grandma Lee.

Do you watch? Who's your pick, and why?

Satisfaction in Volunteering

Billy and I have talked recently about the epidemic of "experience-driven service." Meaning... people serve... at a local mission or somewhere overseas because of the experience they get out of it.

It causes us to ask whether this is an okay motivation. Does service "count" if you're only motivated to do it because of where you can go or how you can feel afterward?

I know it's a natural by-product that we tend to feel good when we help others. But where should that feeling come on the priority list of motivating factors?

I read an article today about a Kentucky family that is selling the $350,000 home that was given to them by their community in conjunction with Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. The family has a regular sob story... the husband was injured in the line of duty on the local police force, the wife is a school teacher who has battled cancer.

After a free trip to Disney World, the family returned home to find their own house demolished and a new one worth 4x as much in its place. Along with the house, they got the "blessing" of higher utilities, higher property taxes, and also got to keep their previous mortgage.

In an effort to become debt-free, they've announced that they will sell the 3-year-old house to pay off debts and buy a home closer to town, which will be closer to family and medical needs.

So, the question is... do the people who built this house have any right to complain, as some of them have? (Others have been supportive, to varying degrees.)

What was the purpose of the service offered to this family? To bless or to curse? To help someone else or to feel good for themselves?

What do you think?

Should this family face ridicule for selling the home? Is our reward a valid reason to serve in the first place?

Sunday at Summit - The Sermon on the Mount Week 1

This last Sunday, we started a new series at our church. We just wrapped up a 16 week series on Exodus, and have now transitioned into the Sermon on the Mount. Our lead teacher, Paul, explained that having just studied the law, he thought it made sense to go see what Jesus did with the law.

Now this can make me a little nervous because the Sermon on the Mount is the trendy thing for all those social gospel, works righteous people out there to start quoting. Instead of using the teaching as a plumb line, they use it as a means to an end, and this is really dangerous.

As a Christian, I am fully accepted by God, completely forgiven and made righteous. God's Spirit in me lives the righteous, holy life that I'm called to. So, the sermon can be something I refer to in order to test if I'm in the right place, but it's not something that gets me in the right place. Only God can get me there.

But I shouldn't have worried because our elders are so solid on truth, and Paul addressed this very thing early in the message... instantly putting me at ease. He warned that, read in the wrong context, people could easily see the sermon as a checklist of what we're supposed to do to be God's people. But, as Jesus clearly taught in John 6:28-29, the only "work" the Father requires of us is to believe in Jesus.

Okay... moving on....

Even though we aren't required to do works to reach God, God's perfect plan for us include heart change that leads to actions that show evidence of this heart change. As Paul put it, "Our conduct flows from our character in Christ."

Another point Paul made that I appreciated was that Jesus' teaching and his miraculous power aren't sold separately. It's a package deal, and to lean one way is to ignore the balance that Jesus showed while on earth. Jesus is not just a good teacher, and he's not just a genie in a bottle.

The last point that stuck out to me was Paul passionate admonition that the Church (at large) and our church (Summit, specifically) needs to stop trying to look like the world. He gave a few comparisons of the dichotomy between the two.

The world is concerned about being hot. The church is concerned about being holy.

The world is full of greed. The church is full of generosity.

The world is swooning over celebrities. The church is swooning over Christ.

If the Church isn't showing these attributes, then we are living in our old patterns and not surrendering to Christ. It is Christ that lives through us... our old self was crucified and we are made new... Christ is in us, we are in Christ. It is the Spirit that bears fruit in and through us. Are we letting the Spirit do his work?

Dear Mr. Creditor

I am debt-free. I owe you nothing. So please stop calling me. It's not my fault that Miss Carter had my number before me. I don't know her. I'm not related to her. (And by the way, if I were... do you really think I'd give you information about her?!)

It's not my business how many outstanding, bad debts she has, but once you find her, I have a feeling you'll have to wait in line for quite some time to get your precious money.

So, actually... go ahead and call... cause you know what... I'll report you to the Fair Trade Commission. Stupid Redline Recovery, with immature people that call back, yell, and hang up on innocent bystanders.

Seriously... get a real job! One you can be proud of.

How can you live with yourself knowing that you make your measly living by harassing people? Don't you know you're worth more than that? Don't you know that God has given you real gifts that He wants to use for real work? God didn't create you to ridicule people and to threaten and to act like the scum of the earth.

New Shoes

Well, I went out again last night (alone this time... oh, it was glorious!) to see what I could find in the way of sandals.

I didn't quite get what I was looking for. I wanted something to replace these (sorry for the picture. It's rotated on my computer, and I tried 5 times to re-upload, but bloggers not co-operating. You'll just have to turn your neck!):



As you can see they're pretty worn in between the toes. That'll happen after 6 or 7 years.


I didn't quite score the jackpot at RackRoom shoes, but since I had a $50 budget, I was able to settle for some nicer sandals that will work for casual, but not necessarily for everyday playing in the back yard. In addition, I got some cute discounted brown flip flops, and as a bonus, I was able to run over to Target and grab a pair of $3 pool flops as well. My current ones are cracking and I expect them to break any moment now.

Bloggable World of Target

The kids and I ventured out of the complex today. This is a rare occasion. We tend to frequent the grocery store, the bank, and the pool. Rarely do we go to actual stores, never do we go to malls. Today we did both, and I was actually overwhelmed with the amount of junk there is out there. Not just material stuff, but all the things I could blog about. No wonder, I mused silently, my blog is slowly dying. I have no inspiration.

So, I could probably make about 5 posts out of today, but since I really doubt I'd have the stamina to make it through, I'll just summarize here quickly.

1. We went to catch the free kids' flick at the Monaco, which is a super posh theatre. They were showing the Tales of Despereaux. We were excited because my good friend Kara gave us a copy of the book and Eve devoured it. We're also reading it for bedtime right now. The show started at 11. We got there at 10:30, and all the tickets were gone. Nice.

2. But never fear because Maggie Moo's was just down the mall from the Monaco. Now... for those not in Huntsville, you have to realize that this is the coolest mall EVER. It's an outdoor mall, complete with fountains to play in (note to self: bring bathing suits next time in case the movie is again full). Just being at Bridge Street Town Centre (see... it doesn't even call itself a mall, that's how cool it is) well, it makes you feel rich. Even if you can't afford anything there, which I pretty much can't. Except for when jewelers there throw in a free prong repair with my soldering, but that's a different story.

So, at Maggie Moo's, I had a waffle cone with Red Velvet Cake ice cream and Oreos mixed in. It was nothing short of divine. The only problem was that we had Ashlyn with us, and I really hate for her to have sugar, but I was able to take big bites so as to limit what she had off my cone. :)

3. We headed to Target to pick up Eve's camp gear today. We got a kick-butt sleeping bag with pink camo on it. Very cool. But I couldn't believe that cosmetic bags are so freaking expensive. $20 for a plastic package? Seriously? Fortunately, we scored the one $15 bag that was on clearance for $3. Almost walked right past it, but then that red tag caught my eye. It's plaing black now, but we'll use a little acryllic paint and have it personalized and pretty in no time.

4. Being at Target made me realize how much I've been saving by not going to stores. Seriously. I felt like every single aisle we walked down, I saw something else that I really wanted. Yesterday, I didn't want it. But just being in its presence made me think, "Oh that would be so nice for organizing." Or, "I could use that to decorate in Eve's room."

Billy and I have been focused on contentment a lot in the past couple of years. Part of it has been out of necessity. We're commited to having me stay home with the kids and to being responsible with our money, so there's just not room in the budget for excess. Because of this, we've been intentional about being thankful for what we do have and trying not to focus on everything we don't have.

But money aside, we just don't want to be slaves to stuff. Dave Bruno has an inspiring on-going 100 thing challenge that began as his quest to get out from under the control of stuff. He continues to be an inspiration to me. Sometimes, I see posts about the CVS game, and I feel like some of the women that play that are just accumulating more stuff because they can afford it with their shrewd couponing skillz. I'm tempted to play that game. I'm tempted to find my worth in how far I can stretch a dollar by obtaining things I wouldn't normally buy anyway. (Seriously, CVS rarely has bonuses for things I actually need.)

Lesson learned: stay out of stores whenever possible.

5. Another thing I was looking for today was some sandals to replace the ones I got about 7 years ago. I am sad to see them go, but lucky me... looks like I get to keep them for a while. I looked while at Target, but not surprisingly didn't find anything that caught my eye. (Well, I did find some fancy flip flops, but I was really looking for something a little more durable... something to last me another 7 years, maybe.)

I also stopped by Shoe Carnival since it's over there anyway. Row after row after row of sandals. But alas, nothing of what I wanted. All I'm asking for is a nice brown leather sandals with a chunky heel (but not a wedge!) that are dressy enough to wear with business casual attire at the pregnancy test center, but casual enough to wear everyday in my back yard. Basically, I want the exact sandal I have now... but new... and not falling apart. Is that too much to ask? I'm gonna try to find one more shoe store near me, and then I'll resort to some cheaper dressy flip flops from Target for $8. Then, I guess I'll try it all again next year. :(

Whew... all that in a few hours. Who knew there was so much in the world?

Life Without Coffee

Breaking News at the Chia Household: Billy and I have stopped drinking coffee.

I know. I never thought this would happen. I love coffee. But ultimately, it was doing me in.

Over the last months my energy level has plummeted from my natural low energy to a minuscule amount that was most often used up by being in a bad mood. How fun is that to live with. And if you're starting to feel sorry for my family, you ought to feel just as sorry for me. I mean, I can't get away from myself! It was getting pretty miserable.

So, aside from that a couple of other factors led me to make the final decision. One was a conversation at small group about our bodies being God's temple. We have been going through Exodus at church, and we learned about the splendor of the tabernacle and how the priest's garments were like a mini-temple, as a symbol pointing to Jesus - that when Jesus came, our bodies would become the temple.

But the final straw was a segment I heard on Sean Hannity's radio show featuring everyone's favorite wrestler-turned-governor Jesse Ventura. He and Hannity were arguing about legalizing hard drugs such as heroine, which is retarded that anyone even thinks that's okay. But still, he made the point that if caffeine were suddenly outlawed, we'd see a lot of violence by people to get it. I'm not sure it's really comparable to heroine, but the point is that caffeine is a drug, and I don't believe in being addicted to anything, except Jesus.

So, anyway, what's life like without coffee?

1. Awake, surprisingly. The first couple of days I slept a LOT. I'm talking 12 hours at night plus a few hour or 2 naps through out the day. Out of 24 hours in a day, I probably slept about 18 of those the first couple of days. But then the third day, something clicked, and I've been doing really well. I definitely wake up more easily in the morning. So, it's nice to not have to wait until after I drink coffee to start that process.

2. Cheaper. We are quasi coffee snobs around here, so there's no Folgers for us. We usually opted for Seattle's Best, which I could get for $6.48/bag. We would go through 2-4 of those a month, depending on if I needed a pick-me-up in the afternoon (which I did a lot!). I also have to have non dairy creamer which is around $3 for the month. So, we're talking $17-29 off our grocery budget. Hello! I have some other things I'd like to buy for $17-29.

3. Holier. Okay... this might seem like a stretch to say I'm "holier," but I just wanted a one word description. Sue me. I will say that I'm more able to control my responses to my kids when I'm annoyed at them. First of all, I've been annoyed less, actually. That's been a good attitude change to have. But even when I am annoyed, I've been able to approach my response with more patience. Instead of snapping at them to go away or be quiet, I've been more able to ask, "What's going on?" or "What do you need?" Not always succeeding, but it's a process, anyway.

I'm still not feeling awesome in the energy department, so my next step is to get some detox kit and clean myself out of toxins. This is still in the R&D phase, but suggestions on ones that work (or other thoughts on coffee dependencies) are welcome in the comments.

Psyched for Small Group

Life has been good. Lots of new things on the horizon... from beginning my pregnancy counseling ministry to enrolling in a new homeschool cover (where I'm excited to be teaching a class to teens on making a school yearbook!).

Billy and I recently became debt free (yeah... I really ought to have a better announcement on here than that little sidenote). He's doing awesome things in his career, Eve's progressing in some impressive gymnastics, and little Ashlyn knows how to use a potty!

But of all the things that have been going right, the highlight of every week has been Wednesday nights, when we go to our new small group.

Small groups have been my favorite thing about church for a long time. I like small groups in general, as opposed to large groups, so I'm sure this is a reason. But really, I just feel like so much growth takes place within a small group of people who can build a relationship based on trust and shared faith.

When we first got assigned to this group, I thought it would be interesting. We were the only parents in the group and the oldest ones there. We've always been the youngest. (The second week, another couple joined in. They have kids and are older than us by a couple of year or 2. Whew!)

Our leader is a 23-year-old guy with a huge servant's heart. His wife is pregnant. We have another couple expecting their first. The husband is a deacon at our church and from what I can tell is incredibly conservative. Then, we have 2 single guys who came over from a disbanded small group - an experiment to see if singles and married could actually interact in meaningful ways. :)

Then there's us. It's a random group. And it has been amazing!

I'm excited for the encouragement we've already experienced. Talking about living a Christian life, reading the Bible, serving our community. I've been in the Bible more since this group started. I've been encouraged to return to the prayer life I slipped away from after Ashlyn was born. I've been stretched to offer grace for things that aren't how I think they oughta be.

In all that, I've found a great group of people who I'm thrilled to be committing to for the next 12-18 months.

So... yeah... I can't wait until 6:30 tonight.

Convenient Sacrifice

I'm getting tired of eating rice. It's a sacrifice we make because of a principle we believe in, but this week, I remembered that it can really be easy to grow weary of doing good.

A big part of Saturday nights is to be hungry, to connect with the struggles of brothers and sisters around the world.

Still, it's difficult to live in America and really feel this.

Last night, my stomach hurt as I ate the rice. It's not the greatest thing for the digestive system, and I realized how difficult it would be to eat this when you're really hungry. If you haven't had food in three days, rice is not the friendliest thing you can partake of. It sits heavy and is difficult to digest (which makes me wonder why people say you should give a baby rice cereal first. It messed with both of my kiddo's systems, and I stopped it pretty quick for their health's sake).

I couldn't finish my meager bowl, and I was "starving" 2 hours later when our normal snack time arrived. So, I ate. And ate. And ate.

I had an egg and tuna and cereal and fruit. I had a bounty... which kinda counteracted the rice initiative in the first place.

But my point is that this "sacrifice" is only a convenient 2-hour hunger strike, and still it's hard.

Praise God that His Kingdom isn't contingent on me, but is built on His own strength. And by his strength we will continue to push forward to sacrifice for the sake of our little boy.

Wordless Wednesday: Too cool for skool

When Failure is a Victory

I was doing some research last night on Obama's Freedom of Choice Act. Wanting to sift through the emotional responses and get down to the facts, I thought it best to look at sites in support and in opposition to the bill to see what they had to say about the law.

I happened to come to NARAL Pro Choice America's website, and of course, what I found was some disgusting propaganda about our so-called constitutional right to choose being "in dire peril." (Because over 4,000 American abortions a day just isn't good enough?) I always find it interesting that pro-choice people forget that our revolution was fought in order to preserve the right to life.

Anyway, I also found something on their site that was beyond pleasing. It was a grade for the state of Alabama. A big, fat "F."

We, in Alabama, have failed to provide easily obtainable abortions. Things that weigh against us here, in the view of NARAL are the following:

1. Required Biased Counseling and Mandatory Waiting Periods: This is defined in their own words as "Biased counseling and mandatory delay laws prohibit women from receiving abortion care until they are subjected to a state-mandated lecture and/or materials followed by a delay of usually at least 24 hours before they can receive services."

In Alabama, a woman must be told of the details of the procedure, potential risks, probable age and physical development of the baby, and alternatives. The waiting period is 24-hours, and the woman must receive a state-prepared handout of resources that are available to assist with pregnancy and raising a child or placing a child for adoption.

Sounds like some great education to me!

2. Restrictions on Young Women's Access to Abortions: Alabama requires 1 parent to consent to an abortion, if the pregnant girl is less than 18. If circumstances in her family make it impossible to gain this consent, the girl can obtain permission from a family court judge. Harsh.

3. Restriction on Low-Income Women's Access to an Abortion: Alabama doesn't allow tax money to go toward abortions for low-income, unless the pregnancy if life-threatening for the mother. The cost for an abortion, by the way, is usually less than $500.

4. (Unenforced) Bans on Early and Late Abortions: Abortions are not supposed to happen before 12 weeks or after viability. Health of the mother is an exception to the ban on late abortions.

5. Ban on Pro-Abortion Counseling: The Office of Women's Health in Alabama can't advocate for abortions. It is only allowed to educate about abortion and other alternatives.

6. Licensing Requirements: Only a licensed physician can perform an abortion in Alabama. If a facility performs more than 30 abortions a month, or advertises as an abortion provider, it must have be licensed. Abortion facilities must have ultrasound equipment to perform pre-abortion ultrasounds (currently, the law doesn't require that the woman be shown this ultrasound, but she has the right to view it).


Often, you'll hear pro-choice advocates use the rhetoric that they are fighting for fewer and safer abortions. These laws of Alabama are educating women on healthy alternatives. The laws help women make the best choice - one that is thought out and backed with information, not just emotion. When abortion is the choice a woman makes, the law is intended to ensure that facilities will provide safe ones.

Still, we get a grade of "F" with NARAL. This is one bad grade I couldn't be happier with.

**To find out how much your state supports education and life, go to NARAL's State Profiles. Remember, "bad" grades are those that provide for education of women and encourage them to make an informed choice.

Looking Presidential

A friend had a picture on facebook today that I thought had to be a joke, until I googled it and found a page on Amazon.


In case that's too serious-minded for you (cause we all know that Chia sculptures of presidents' heads have the potential to be too serious-minded), you can opt for the "Happy" version.



And of course, to answer the question on everyone's mind... no, we don't have a say in the ridiculous paraphernalia that gets marketed under our last name. Nor do we have any inheritance coming, that we know of.