Bummer

We love fall. Oh, it's my favorite. When I planned our school year, I planned a week long break the week before Halloween to just play. I wanted to go to the zoo, parks, hiking, just any fun thing that we could do outside. Then we would cap the week off with one of our favorite holidays, Halloween. I was SO excited!!!!

Then.

Not a huge deal, but I got sick on Sunday night. Just a cold. But you know, I really hate colds. You can't breathe, you have no energy and yet, it's just a cold, so you have to keep plodding along like you aren't sick. Because you aren't really sick. You just have a cold. Ugh.

Maybe I'm just Queen of the Wimps, but I can't do school when I have a cold like this. Our school, much like everyone's school, I'm sure, consists of 4 solid hours of talking, reading and discussing. I just can't do it when I might end up in a fit of coughing or worse yet, it HURTS to talk.

So, I had no choice (well, I did, but as the Queen of the Wimps, I didn't really) but to not do school this week.

But, so I wouldn't feel like the week was wasted, I decided to deep clean the upstairs, finish organizing the winter clothes, get the laundry done and get the downstairs clean. Ugh.

Warning: whining ahead.

So now our precious Fall Celebration Week has turned into a Clean Your House Week? Say it isn't so...

So here are my options. Take next week off too, and make up the week somewhere else. That wouldn't be too hard to do, since we have some other weeks scheduled off here and there. Or we can just slowly make up the week by doing an extra day a week until the week is made up. OR we can do school next week and just do our fun stuff in the afternoons. *sigh*

I am thankful that it's just a cold, with all the swine flu and such that is going around. I just feel like I'm wasting sick days on a silly old cold. Oh well...

So, I don't know what to do. Ideas? Anyone up for some fall fun next week? Maybe that will help me decide what to do!

Sorry for the whining. I'll try to not do it ever again!

Old Baker's Farm

We got the priviledge of going to Old Baker's Farm again this year. We just love that place. The Baker's are the nicest people, and I love their farm. If you ever get a chance to go, you really should.

I loved looking back at the picture from last year. It was a complete coincidence that the boys chose to wear the same shirts they wore last year. I love that! I can't believe how much they have all changed in a year's time.

This is my dream house. Really, it is.

Jude had learned about baby chicks in school the week before, and he was really excited about seeing these chicks. He really wanted to take one home. Really badly.

Zane's favorite book is called Yuck! Stuck in the Muck. "The duck flew up. The duck got stuck in the muck..." Zane was very excited about seeing some real ducks.

They got to pick cotton too! It was a super fun, despite the heat! We love the farm!!!!

I have finally nailed down my chili recipe

I have been trying several chili recipes for a while now. I have finally settled on this one, that for now, is our favorite. It's so easy, pretty cheap and makes a good bit of food. I love to have chili turkey dogs, chili fries or chili baked potatoes with left over chili too. Such a perfect time of food for this time of year! So here it is, in all it's simplistic glory:

1 pound ground turkey
3 or 4 cans of dark and light red kidney beans
1 28oz can diced tomatoes
1t cumin
1/2t cayenne pepper
1/2t sea salt
1/2t fresh ground black pepper
2T chili powder

In case you are a remedial cook like I am, "t" is for teaspoon and "T" is for tablespoon. Imagine the disasters until I figured that out...

I add some water, about 3/4 cup, to make it more soupy. I love to do this in the crock pot, especially on Sunday mornings. When you walk in the house, the smell is fabulous! Allen adds hot sauce to his, while the kids and I like it wimpy. You can play with the spices, obviously, to get it to your liking.

So there it is. Simple. Wonderful!

That chick really bugs me

Have you ever been in church and looked over and seen her? You know who she is. She's standing there, innocently enough. She's absolutely put together, no hair out of place, clothes just right. It's obvious that she's hasn't struggled with 15 extra pounds that have lingered since the birth of her last child-the child that is now 3 years old. She looks well rested and very put together. She is standing happily beside her husband, and it's very evident that he adores her. Probably because she didn't yell at her husband that if he didn't hurry up, they were going to be late to church and she wasn't going to get her preferred seat in church. (Sure enough, they were 2.7 minutes late...) Her children are there too, perfectly matched. Her son does not have on his red Cars sock with his Spider Man tennis shoes, blue shorts and pink and blue plaid button down dress shirt. Her children don't appear to insist on dressing themselves. Their faces are clean, their hair brushed. They are all smiling and happy to be in church, not passing notes, not poking her, asking her when it's going to be over or trying the bathroom trick one more time. You can even go so far as to guess that her house is neat and clean, she cooks only healthy, nutritious food, and she never wastes time on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or whatever...

Ugh. A modern day Super Woman. I am so not her. Obviously.

I always kinda feel that way about the Proverbs 31 woman too. I mean why did Solomon stick her at the end of this amazing book on wisdom? Why did she get to end the whole book? Just to make me feel crappy about my short comings?

I read this text again recently, and through my usual groanings about this amazing woman, a verse jumped out at me. I've read it a hundred times, but I guess because of where I am in my life, it really jumped off the page and slapped me in the face. Oh, here it is...

She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

Oh come on!!! Really? She laughs at the years to come? You mean

THIS CHICK WOULDN'T EVER DYE HER GRAY HAIR?????

*sigh* Okay, maybe this isn't exactly what Solomon meant. Maybe he's not referring to her actual looks, or the fact that she's getting old. Maybe only because where I am in my life did I interpret it this way.

But I did interpret it that way. Boy did I. I have gray hair. Lots of it. I have wrinkles, which have only recently started to bother me. I'm getting that rooster neck. Stop laughing- I AM. I saw it in the rear view mirror in the van and I almost cried! I still can't get rid of these stupid extra pounds ( I KNOW you're tired of hearing about them. I'm tired of carrying them around!) and things are sagging that have never sagged this much before. (I don't think I have a single solitary male reader, but if I ever did, I think that probably just sent them running for the hills never to return.)

I mean come on. I'm only 37 (choke) and I'm falling apart. It's not supposed to be like this for at least 3 more years. My mom and grandmothers didn't go gray until well in their 40's. What the heck is going on? (coughcoughzanecoughcough)

So anyway, I have had some time to reflect on these issues, and there are some tough questions to be asked. Why do I care so much about the way I look? There is a difference in presenting a proper appearance and trying to recapture the looks of your 20's. I don't want to look 20 again, but dang it if I don't want to look 40 yet.

Okay, so enough about the outside. This is really a heart issue. If I wore very out of fashion clothes, had tons of frizzy gray hair and wore no makeup, God would still adore me, right? So the hang up is mine.

Where is the healthy boundary with caring about how you look, but not caring how you look? I ain't gonna lie. I got me some henna upstairs right now, and tonight, I'm washing this gray out of my hair. I'm even going to give myself a mani and a pedi. When I could be doing Bible study.

See my dilemma?

Okay, here's all I got so far. I need to want to care for the poor, sick and needy more than I want to buy myself a new pair of shoes at Target. I need to be more concerned about my tongue and what it wags than I care that I have a new studded bracelet to participate in the stud trend for fall. I need to care more about the thoughts that are in my head than the gray hair that sits on top of that brain. I need to be more concerned with doing good with my body than caring how many extra pounds are on said body.

Or maybe it's all or nothing. Maybe we are products of our society that says you are only valuable if you are beautiful. Maybe I am so insecure in myself that I figure if I'm half way decent looking, people will like me based on that and not what's inside.Maybe I am so damaged that I need the admiration from complete and total strangers based on looks alone. All of this is humbling and terrifying to think about. Maybe I'm more concerned about what's on the outside because allowing God to work on the inside is at times excruciating. Maybe I'm afraid He'll ask me to put away my henna and my cute clothes. Maybe I think if I study His Word enough, He'll let me keep my vanity.

Gross. Usually I can blog some of this stuff and get it worked out, but honestly I think this is something that He and I are going to have to hash out. I think it's awesome that I'm having to let go of some of this due to the aging process. We have all seen those ladies who are older, yet dress like their daughters and look rather ridiculous. I don't want to be her, I promise.

I want to age gracefully. I want to not care what I look like. I want to honor God with my life, and do that without caring that time has marched across my face. And my rear.

*I* want to laugh at the years to come. Whether or not that's what Solomon meant.

Oh, and as to why he ended this book with this chapter, I thought this was pretty cool. (Some faiths don't want to spell out God's name, so they do a number of different things. I have seen it written G_d before, and this lady prefers to write it a different way. Don't let that distract you from her perspective. It's an interesting one...)

"I’ve always wondered why Proverbs 31 ended with this poem about this woman. So have others. It seems odd. And after all the focus on wisdom and gaining it, why does this book end with a woman going about her mundane daily activities? Part of the answer to this in how the Jewish sages defined wisdom. Wisdom was not just knowledge gained for knowledge’s sake. Wisdom was knowledge that was to be applied to everyday life. In the Bible Godde created the world and set boundaries and laws to govern what Godde created. Wisdom sought to define those boundaries and apply those laws to their daily lives. This woman is living wisdom."

link:http://www.shawnaatteberry.com/

I want to live wisdom. Oh, Lord, help me to live wisdom. Then I'll know what to do about all the other stuff.

(disclaimer: this post has absolutely nothing to do with anyone who dyes their own hair. And I'm talking to you, you that knows who you are;) )

Not fun Amy

I promise that I don't watch "Friends" anymore, and haven't for years. Unfortunately I can't get all the one liners out of my head and they pop up again and again. I remember the episode where they were having a New Year's Eve party, and a lot was going wrong and everyone was really down and sad at the party. They couldn't' wait for Monica's current boyfriend, Fun Bobby, to get there. Bobby was always... well, fun. Made things fun. Made people laugh. When Bobby did show up, he was sad. His grandmother (grandfather?) had died and he was sobbing. He was NOT Fun Bobby. And he didn't help the party any by sobbing through it.

Oh fine. Here, it's clean. Relive those 90's.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gcQqMn4yLc

Lately I have felt like NOT Fun Amy. I don't laugh a whole lot. I'm quickly losing my "Funniest Facebook Status Updater" award. (Wait. I didn't win that? What, nobody has noticed that I'm not funny anymore? You mean the world has more to do than notice that I'm not funny anymore? Humph.) I feel a little short with my kids and definitely not having a ball with life. It's just heavy. Oh I miss laughing. I mean I do, some. Laugh, I mean.You can't live in this house and not laugh at these kids. But the laughter is fewer and more far between.

I've been really busy, with school, the kids, the house. Allen has been really really busy, so that means that I'm busier, in general. My sweet precious friends have been really busy too. I don't see them enough. They are doing school, taking care of sick babies, caring for their families, and holding down the fort while their husbands work and take care of their businesses. My blog hasn't been light. No funny pictures or amusing update. (Gag. Those are just for me anyway) My most favorite laugh partner, my husband, has been really busy too. He hasn't been here much, and when he has been, we haven't laughed much. Too tired. Too heavy. (Now before anyone starts wondering, Allen and I are just fine. Really. God is doing wonderful and amazing things in Allen's life too, and we are still each other's most favorite Earthly things. I promise. There, I feel better getting that out.)

But. And this is a big but (no pun intended) there is still joy. And I mean that. Really, I do. Joy is so much different than happiness. Happiness floats in and out of my life quicker than water flows off a duck's back. I'm happy because I got a great movie from the library, then I'm unhappy because fall went away and it's summer again. Happiness is fickle. It's not dependable. It's not trustworthy. It doesn't serve me well. Thanks to my one million hormones, I can get cranky in a flash, for no good reason at. all. I've learned not to try my friend, happiness. I used to chase her with all I had. I was only happy when she was near. I have learned, through some tough years, that she's not actually that good of a friend. I found one much more dear.

Joy. (Waving to my own dear real life Joy. Oh how you sweetly live up to your name...) The Merriam-Webster definition of joy is, "a source or cause of delight." Delight. That means, "extreme satisfaction." So here we go. The "cause" of my "extreme satisfaction" is not my circumstances. It's not my state of well being. It is, of course, the fact that I am a child of the High King. A child of the Creator of the universe. I am bought and paid for by the blood of His Son. I know to Whom I belong. I know where I'm going, and I know how the story ends. How can you ever despair when you know how the story ends?

I love to laugh. And I do laugh. Loudly. (Hush) But becoming more important to me is not so much the laughter, but the constant praise in my heart. Even when things are tough, my heart is singing to the One that I love. I KNOW that the harder things are, the better off I will be. That God is using all of this to make me more like Him. How can I be sorry about that?

I read this week that God uses the man who has been deeply broken. I feel pretty broken by my own weaknesses. I am more aware of my inefficiencies than ever before. And in them I am glad, because now I get to boast in Him. Come on, say it with me. You knew it was coming. (It's coming.) Sweet Paul. Oh how I ache for him with his affliction. Don't you just know how he felt? Can't you just identify with is pain? But thank the Lord for that thing that bugged him nearly to death, because I need to feel his pain. And I can't hear him say too many times, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." It's 2nd Corinthians, of course. But oh to hear Paul say, I am CONTENT with it all. I am CONTENT with the heaviness. Oh dear Paul. He really did have it figured out, didn't he? And did you see that list? It wasn't just one thing that had him down. Goodness.

I know some people who have it figured out too. Real life people. I know people who are struggling with afflictions that affect every single thing about their life. And they are sweet, joyful and okay with what they have been given, even though there are constant reminders of their struggles. And I love that person more than I can express. I need to be around people like that more. The ones who will tell you in one breath what they are struggling with is real. And hard. And then they will tell you with the next breath how much they love their Jesus. How they want to know Him more. And the whole time, they are just smiling, as if they are telling you that they found the cutest pair of shoes at Target. That's the joy I want.

So I may not be Fun Amy right now, but let me tell you, I am Deeply Touched by the Master Amy. My God has taken me and split me open to the core. He is disassembling me, and putting me back together to get me ready for what is to come. And He is showing me that now matter how hard this life is, one day, when I see Him face to face, I'll be able to tell Him that it was all worth it. And I'll be able to tell Him that looking forward to seeing His face was all the joy that I ever needed.

God is my co-pilot personal trainer

I beg God to transform me into the image of his Son. I really do. And boy, here lately, has He been answering my prayers. I don't think I can ever recall a time where God has be so relentless with me.

Okay, I really have given up television for the most part. I have some episodes of "Say Yes to the Dress" and "Ace of Cakes" that stay on my TiVO for those nights when I'm so mentally and physically exhausted that I just want to lay in bed and watch something benign before I conk out. But God has truly delivered me from my television watching, and I am SO thankful. That time is now spent studying His Word or reading something that will grow me in Him. So thankful for that.

But, every now and then, I see a show that I used to love. "Biggest Loser" is one of them. I just love to see people get themselves healthy. I just do. I don't know why. It inspires me to continue to try to get these last 15 pounds off my rear too. Anyway, one reason I'm glad I don't watch this show anymore is because I've heard how bad the language is with the girl trainer this year. Jillian Michaels is her name. You may have heard me speak about her with great love and affection from my experiences with her video "The 30 Day Shred." Shred being the operative word.

Anyway, if you haven't seen the show, she basically gets in the contestants' faces and screams and curses at them. They start to bawl and then she starts to tell them that they are WORTH it. They are worth being healthy and happy. So on and so on.

Now basically I see the humanistic side of this as being pretty hopeless. If you don't have Christ, you aren't gonna be happy even if you are a size 0. But I see where she is coming from. Now let me assure you that this is also just one of the reasons I won't ever be on that show. Getting in my face and yelling the "F" word is definitely not a way to get me to go another mile on the treadmill. In fact, that's the shortest way to get me through the door. But I'm digressing.

She says, Jillian that is, that you have to strip everything else away to get these people to admit why they are where they are. You have to strip them down, all the way down, to get to build them back up. You have to have them groveling in a mess of sweat and tears before you can pick them up. It ain't pretty to watch. Hard actually. Wondering where I am spiritually? Yep, there it is.

I actually said to God this week, after a spiritual "work out" that He was quickly becoming my own personal Jillian Michaels. Without all the "F" words, of course. I don't mean to equate God and Ms. Michaels at all. Don't misunderstand me. But this, where I have been recently, just about as low and as beat up as you get, looking up at God and said, "NOW, GOD? Now can you let me up? Can you back off for just. a. second?"

And I'm not sure I really want Him to, but oh my gosh. I am also not sure how much more you can tear it up on the spiritual tread mill before you collapse. I know God needs me torn down so He can build me back up in HIS image. It's just the whole process is hard. I imagine that just like those "Biggest Loser" contestants feel like a million dollars when they slip on their size 4 jeans, when I get through this part of my spiritual training, I'm gonna feel great.

Right now, I feel like I really need to get off that tread mill. Want to pray for me? Pray for endurance. My timer on my treadmill is no where near close to going off...

matchless beauty. endless light.

Good morning, Sunshine!

(This is for you, my precious red headed wonder. I love you! ;) )

For nearly all my life, I've known that getting up early and spending time with God was essential to the well being of my faith. I'd say that in the last 8 years that I've really gotten my spiritual act together, (or started really trying to) I have really felt that desire for the first time. And honestly, for the last 8 years it's been nearly impossible to get up early. I'm not lying. Especially with Zane, I was lucky to get maybe 4 hours of sleep a night. I was a walking zombie. Truly.

BUT, I gave God the first fruits of my night. As soon as the kids were in bed, I dived into the Word. No cleaning, no t.v. watching, nothing. It really helped that Allen gets home so late, because it was a completely quiet house, and I dedicated that time to the Lord. And oh my word did He bless it.

I realized as I spent most of my time at church in the nursery that I was solely responsible for my spiritual walk. It wasn't some preacher's job to get me to be Christ-like. It was my job and mine alone. Maybe it's not so hard for some, but for me, and my horrible sinful longings, I needed to dedicate a lot of time to God and His Word. I would record sermons from people, read books, read the Word, do Bible studies, talk with friends, whatever I could to grow myself. And God blessed it. I grew spiritually without a church. Not the people. I wouldn't live a day without my friends, but I grew without the instruction of a church. Not fun, but again, God blessed it.

(I know my friends are glad the Joyce Meyer days are over. I quoted her so much, I could actually hear the eye rolling when I'd toss back out what I'd learned that week. God bless her. She really did help me out for a while. And I do admit to saying, "Run to the throne, not the phone" when we were talking about how you immediately react to tough situations last week. Hey, it's a good reminder for me...)

SO, now that I have 3 pretty grown up kids (SWEET HALLELUJAH) God impressed it on my heart that He wanted to start spending some really quiet time with me in the morning. I was okay with that. One of my favorite series is the Yada Yada Prayer Group series. The main character starts her day out early in the morning with her Bible, her recliner and her cup of coffee. While reading those books, I would think, "Oh, I want that." I really wanted that.

So when school started, I started setting my alarm for 6 am. The coffee is on a timer, and it's ready when I come down the stairs. I get a cup, curl up in my corner of the couch, get snuggled up with Bella, and we go before the Lord.

I'm just gonna say that what God is doing in my life through this time is nothing, and I mean nothing, short of a miracle. I am reading and learning things that I use in my day. I mean like they are there for me in the morning to use so clearly during the day. I'm reading scriptures that come back to me through things I'm reading, people I talk to and sermons too. I promise you, that even during a question and answer session at church on Wednesday night, our pastor read a passage I had read one morning. I think I even said, "Of COURSE you're reading this..." out loud. It was one of those coughing and covering it up moments. Not embarrassing at. all.

So I now set my alarm for 5:50, because I was losing some getting-my-coffee-letting-Bella-out-to-pee moments and wasn't getting started until 6:15. I go until 7 when it's time for me to walk/run. I am now fantasizing about getting up at 5:30 to have more time. Isn't that just crazy? It is crazy.

I'm going to bed at 10 now, and if I could just go on 7 hours of sleep a night, I could pull off getting up even earlier. I consider it a true character flaw that I need 8 hours of sleep a night to function correctly. Especially since I went without sleep for so many years. Maybe that's why I need so much now? I don't know. I'm working on it.

But for now, I'm loving the quiet gray of the early morning. I love seeing the sun come up. I love communing with God before anything else enters my mind. I really see now why Joshua, Jesus and others got up early to spend time with God. It's just precious. PRECIOUS. I can't even put it into words. I'm more in love with Him now than I've been ever.

And He's walking me through some lonely, shady paths that haven't been trodden much. It's a precious journey, and He's taking those steps with me in the early morning hours before the world is even awake.