Reflections of what to carry forward from here.

Here I sit in the dining room of a house that has been a refuge for every member of my moms family, my grandparents home for over 60 years, and I can’t help but feel secure and peace. My mom passed away one week and one day ago in the room that she grew up in as a child. She was granted so many gifts and mercies, I can’t help but feel comfort that even though she is not of this world any longer, she is still with us, in another form. I can feel her love all through this house, and I appreciate her gentle reminders of the love that has been shared between us all.

My sister, Debbie and I have shared so many memories and moments this week of just what Momma was to each of us. We have begun the arduous task of going through and organizing Momma’s belongings and cherished treasures. We have been making the decisions of what we like to see go to who, and when and how we would make that happen. We have discovered boxes upon boxes of pictures. Looking back I remember my Momma as being akin to a Japanese tourist. She always had a camera and several rolls of film. It was her personal mission to capture every moment in time as we grew. At times I felt annoyed by her constant begging to document every thing we did. She documented trips to historical landmarks, and you know if there was on a road side attraction to see, we absolutely saw it, touched it and photographed everyone next to it. Yet this week, with tears in my eyes I was overwhelmed with gratitude to my Momma for giving me the gift of the reminder of the amazing moments she gave us as we grew up.

Momma was given so many blessings through her illness. I am amazed at just how all things fell together in perfect time and grace. Momma was able to see those that she loved the most. While she missed her 50 year reunion with her fellow Chino Cowboys due to being in the hospital, she was visited by many and was able to share special moments and memories. We’ve been receiving notes from many who have said that those moments meant so much to them, and that they are thankful for having the memory of enjoying Momma those days. Momma was given a weekend of amazing health and energy. She was able to get out in the fresh air and soak up the warm sunshine. She went to one of her most favorite restaurants that has been a special place to my entire family and enjoy one of her favorite meals. She was able to go to Barnes and Noble and enjoy a hot cocoa and browse her favorite magazines in a comfy chair. As I spoke to her that weekend, she was full of cheer, and said she felt the best she had in a year. She was not struggling to breathe, and sounded full of energy. She was able to give me just the right words I needed hear, that only my mom could tell me to give me encouragement. If I had known it was our last conversation, I doubt there was more I could have said. It was perfect.

I have no doubt that as I move forward with this new season of my life I will be struck with more moments and memories. But I feel that I have a renewed sense of just how much my mom truly loved me. That she was devoted to her daughters, her husband and her parents. And there are many gifts, traditions and a legacy that I can now carry forward in her honor. How blessed I am to have had the amazing privilege to call her my Momma. May I make her proud of the woman I am working on becoming.

A peace that passes all understanding

As I type this I sit in a building that has held many moments that impacted my journey. This medical center has been where I prayed for my dads life to be blessed with more time as he waited for his liver transplant. I have come to this facility to sit at my grandmothers bedside as she slowly succumbed to COPD and congestive heart failure. It was here that I had surgery with the hopes that I would some day be blessed with becoming a mother. it was here that I came in early labor hoping that my child would survive if born too early. Eventually it was here that I gave birth to my first child, Jacob. On his due date. Now it is here that I sit giving praise to God for the gift of time.

My mom is quietly resting beside me and I can't imagine how things could have been had I not chosen to board a flight at 5am on Saturday. This week will be but a blink of my journey. But in this moment, I find myself thankful for the blessings, the love and the mercies that have occurred in this facility. For His love has always been bigger than my trials.

Why I accept (with a smile) what looks like more than I can handle.

Have you ever had someone say something that just struck you? You could totally relate to it, embrace it, put it into practice and run with it. Yeah, I had a moment like that this week. There were several statements that I have found myself pondering for the past few days. They wanted to know how I can handle all of my trails with a smile. That while it seemed like some only got a little sprinkle, it seemed that I was always standing in a storm. She wished that people would stop telling her that God wouldn’t give her more than she could handle. I too have found myself wanting to smack some sense into a few people for the cliche myself. But I suppose there is some truth to it as much as I want to see it stricken from the, “Big book of cheesy phrases”.

I realize I am not the only person who deals with the storms, trials and roadblocks in life. How do I know that, because I see it every day, I work for one of the largest Hospice organizations in the country. I have people share with me what is going on in their lives. The good, the bad and the outright ugly. I am praying for redemption, reconciliation, mercy, healing and even miracles that are God’s will to move in the lives of people I care deeply about. And while I do petition for others to pray for me and/or my little family, I try to keep the heavy stuff to a minimum. I have a handful of people who I go to with the biggies. I am not immune to having pity parties. In fact, I had quite a big pity party a week ago. However, I have been trying to keep my focus on the anticipation, rather than the disappointment.

What precipitated my pity party? Well, this summer was short and full of chaos. My mom has been in the hospital more than she has been out. With her condition deteriorating she was referred to Hospice Services. Along with this comes a set of concerns, and finding the ability to accept the fact that I have no control. We had some catastrophic vehicle issues that resulted in us purchasing a car sooner than we were prepared for. Of course there was more to it all, and we had lawyers, mitigators and settlements, but in the end the whole process was stressful. And to round out my trifecta, my older daughter, Madie is now facing the daunting task of physical therapy, and who knows what else due to something that was far more substantial than the pulled muscle we thought it was. Let me tally that, my mom is dying, my car did die and lastly, my daughter is being benched for who knows how long and is going to require grueling physical therapy to stave off pain and permanent damage to her spine when I thought she pulled a muscle.... Yuck.

How can I smile through this storm? I was reminded of God’s unwavering mercy through each of these trials. My bible has the word Mercy 67 times. I am sure it would be in the hundreds if I were to count it’s other forms such as lovingkindness, sympathy and compassion. I have been shown mercy in many forms by many, but I was reminded that all these great gifts come from above. In looking at the my trifecta storm of this summer, I found that God’s love and mercy is all over me. Each of these circumstances had the potential to destroy me in some form or another.

Yes, my mom is very ill, but his mercy is working through this. How can it be? Well, as hard as it is to accept that my mom is reaching the final stage of life, she has found a way to accept her illness. She is receiving amazing care that is keeping her comfortable, making her care easier on my dad and easy on their finances. If she had decided to not accept the reality of her illness, than this could be far more difficult than it is. In my prayer for his will to be revealed I know that total healing is not realistic. However, He is showing me that His mercy and love is at work. I am in anticipation to see how he can further use this experience for his glory. My relationship with my mom has been strained, and this is providing us a new line of communication. I find myself smiling remembering moments that were long forgotten that are becoming cherished. For I hope that one day those cherished memories outweigh the ones I pray I forgive and forget.

Luke 1:50 His mercy is from generation to generation on those who fear Him.


Yes, my beloved truck was expected to last long enough to be handed down to our oldest. Even our mechanic said that we were just breaking the engine in, yet was cut down in it’s prime unexpectedly. We soon discovered that while the rest of the truck could go for years on end, Honda did not take proper care in assembling the frame. But I praised God for his love and mercy when it was revealed just how catastrophic the results could have been. How can it be? On the Monday that the truck met it’s fate, Aaron decided that rather than shuffle the truck out of his way in the parking lot, he would just take it to work. I had expressed that I had no plans to go anywhere so off he went. On his way home he turned onto a road a block away from ours and that is when the suspension bracket detached. He lost control of the steering, but managed to get the truck to come to a stop. The body came to rest on the back tires since the suspension was no longer supported by the frame. We had to have it towed to a Honda dealer to see what the next step was. What unfolded was a 7 week process to discover that Honda had not properly sealed the frame and suspension from corrosion. There is a recall in a handful of states that use salt brine to treat the roads for snow and ice, Ohio being one of them. We were informed that due to extensive damage Honda would be buying back my truck to have it destroyed.

So how can having my perfectly fine (aside from the rust) completely paid for truck being taken to be destroyed a mercy from God? I commute 33 miles one way to Northern Kentucky. The route I take has less traffic and I prefer a scenic drive rather than all business district and highway. However, it is winding, and there are dips and creeks and drop offs to the sides here and there. Had Aaron not taken the truck to work, it could have easily have detached on a curve in one of the roads I take. If the result is loss of control, I would have had no where to go but into a ravine, or a tree, or worse, into an oncoming car. God granted us further Mercies by making it so that we could find a way to replace my truck. We were able to pay off our current loan on our minivan, and have a down payment for a newer vehicle with what Honda settled for in the buy back process. In fact we received more in the buy back than what we paid for the truck three years prior. I smile because I know God showed me great Mercy. And I may have received another small lesson in patience through it as well.

Lamentations 3:22-24 Because of the Lord’s faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness! I say: The Lord is my portion. therefore I will my hope in Him.


I think all parents worry. I was born a worrier, and my children have only served to add to the advancement of my (very) premature grey hair. However, I try to keep a balance of what I am going to worry about, and to what extent I am going to push an issue. I have found that over time I am in near constant prayer for the Lord’s will, grace, mercy, love and direction to cover my children. They have come with their fair share of needs and medical mysteries. My older daughter, Madie had started complaining of back pain. We assumed that she had strained a muscle somehow between riding coasters at Kings Island, running 2 miles and then having soccer practice. It seemed that it only got worse and she complained more. One day she was having a hard time even getting around the house. Our pediatrician suspected that one leg might be shorter than the other and referred us to the orthopedic clinic at childrens. While I was expecting some orthotics for her shoes to balance her out while she continued to grow and balance out, I was instead told that there is a 21 degree curve in her spine. Due to her pain she is on restricted activity, she is doing physical therapy and hopefully that will help with managing her pain.

To say I was in shock was putting it lightly. While I have a level of worry that Madie has a long road ahead of her I am reminded of the other times in my parenting journey that I felt that I had the wind knocked out of me. Our oldest was born legally blind and we have come a long way on a road that was full of set backs, frustration and countless consultations with specialists. The hard work has paid off, Jake is now able to play sports and is excited for his first contact lens consultation this week. A far distance from the first news that we should just take him to the Center for the blind in Chicago! Noah has faced many challenges in his 10 years thus far. He has undergone 6 surgeries between lacrimal duct implants, repairs, hypospadias repair and having his adenoids and tonsils out. He has overcome RSV and the ongoing effects of it on his respiratory system. And more common knowledge is his ongoing journey with Asperger’s Syndrome, an Autism spectrum disorder. The day we got the diagnosis I was both relieved and scared. Relieved that we finally had an answer to Noah’s behavior, yet I was scared to death that I would never be able to handle the journey ahead. We still have rough days, but when we hit a bump in the road I look back and remember the huge mountains we have faced previously. Noah has come very far from the 5 year old who would refuse to wear all but two of his shirts, would never wear his shoes and would have world record tantrums that had local police asking if they could be of assistance.

Psalms 145:9 The LORD is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works.

Where am I going with all this gloom and doom? Can’t you see the blessing in all of these trials? Can’t you see the grace of God in each of these journeys? Jake could have been born with no chance for improvement... Jake could not have responded as well to treatments and could require more assistive devices... Noah could have incurred infections that impacted his vision... Noah could have required more reconstructed surgery... We could still be in intensive therapies than we ever were had his function declined within the spectrum if we had not caught it earlier. Annika wears only inserts as opposed to the full calf braces she would need had we not gotten her in sooner for the pronation of her feet. Madie and Noah could still be suffering from pneumonia every fall like they did had we not kept pushing for respiratory therapies that were effective. God has been loving and given us lighter burdens in situations that could have had heavier implications. And God knows what Madie needs through this trial as well. Her spine has a curve, yet it does not twist like most with scoliosis do. So this would have missed repeatedly in her physicals. I am thankful that it was caught as soon as it was so that we could use non-invasive methods to help her. this could have gone unnoticed, resulting in surgery.

When I was asked how I can endure all of this and still have a smile, I had to think of why that was. It just seems automatic to me. God has blessed me with the task of raising these four amazing little beings. They are His gift, His children and he granted me intuition to know when to freak out and when to relax. It is still developing, but my grasp of it improves with each trial we face. So the phrase, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” is still my least favorite. But I believe that God makes sure that you don’t have to handle more than you are capable of. He provides amazing mercies so that you do not have to endure trails as severe as life would like to throw at you. He has intervened so many times through my journey and provided me with grace to overcome. I can see where each of these storms could have easily destroyed me, yet he granted mercy and softened the impact. Others may just get the sprinkles, while it may appear I am in the midst of a hurricane. Perhaps God knows that those who get the sprinkles can’t handle any more than that? Perhaps God knows of an inner strength in me that I have yet to comprehend? God has used every trial in my life to grow me, mature me, teach me and each has been used to glorify His kingdom. I will still have moments of exhaustion, and will want to have mini pity parties. I think that is human. But, what I do know is that God is faithful and he is standing in the storm with me (even when I have to take a moment to sit down), how can I not smile with anticipation for what He is going to reveal? :)


Isaiah 25:1 Yahweh, You are my God; I will exalt You. I will praise Your name, for You have accomplished wonders, plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness.

Dancing through the stages

In my college career I took a series of social work classes, as well as a series of psychology courses to complete my degree. I studied how to assist others who are in the midst of crisis, I studies the varies phases of psychological development through each stage of life, as well as the various stages and reactions to grief. Through my experiences in my various jobs I have become quite a realist. I try not to react until all the facts are in, because things can change from day to day. What was thought to be one day, could very well be something in the opposite direction the next. What I wasn’t expecting was to find myself in near complete denial of the facts that have been proven to be a reality. I have been hoping for things to do a 180 when my knowledge knows for a fact that it will not. My hope seems to be at odds with my intellect. I have know been faced with having to accept the facts of what is, rather than what I want it to be. It is now time to expect the best, but prepare for the worst.

What my intellect is telling me is that there are 5 stages, which I never expected that I would have to dance through. I have always been one to accept circumstances, no matter how ugly for what is was. Things are the way they are and I can only accept them. My reaction determines their validity and furthermore their control in my life. I have always leaned towards trying to only see the black and white of the major events to gage my reaction and actions. What I have never been good with is the gray, the unknown. The gray is my biggest fear and I am currently in a vast sea of it. What I thought to be in the long term, is suddenly becoming a short term reality. I'm losing precious time, and I don’t like feeling rushed. Being rushed makes me anxious, I make poor choices and my emotions tend to lack intellectual thought to be appropriate for the situation at hand. Example: We took the kids to BW3’s and received horrible service. We waited nearly 15 minutes to order our food, and once it arrived it was wrong. I knew better of myself to say anything at all, so instead I kept my head down and let Aaron handle it. I knew that if I were to speak I would unleash my anger at all my current circumstances on a waitress who could only say, “I’m not on my game tonight.” I was wrestling with looking at her one of two ways. First: I’ve been curled up in my bed all day struggling with life’s ugly curveballs. I got dressed to come out and enjoy my family and I’m paying for service and food that should be on its game. That should be more than enough to make it right. Second: I’m in the middle of chaos, she could very well be in the middle of her own chaos as well. I should cut her some slack. It may have taken me two days to reach that conclusion, but I’d like to think I chose the wiser option by keeping my head down. Sigh.

As I continue my dance through the stages to hopefully reach acceptance I am going to try to maintain my optimistic approach I’ve learned from my amazing husband. I am going to continue to fight my pessimistic nature that I grew up with because I know it really does not promote forward momentum. My pessimism loves to keep me in place, and often it finds enjoyment knocking me back a few feet as well. My God is amazing, and capable of holding me through this, just as he has through my previous trials. When my grace was not efficient enough, he clothed me in his. When I could not find a way out, he poured his mercy over me. I am holding with both hands onto his promise to see me through. May his holy spirit speak and move through me as I journey through this passage.

Why I am a submissive wife.

Ohhhh... Submission the most hated word when a bunch of married women gather. I have heard horror stories from women who had experiences with men who read Ephesians 5:22 but failed to read much prior or after that verse. All they see is "Wives submit yourself to your own husbands" and run with it. "Woman, the bible says your must submit!". That's effective, isn't it?


Ephesians 5:21-33
21 Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.
22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her 26 to make her holy, cleansing[a] her by the washing with water through the word, 27 and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. 28 In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29 After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— 30 for we are members of his body. 31 “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.”[b] 32 This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. 33 However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.


Merriam-Webster defines submission as:

SUB*MIS*SION:
1 a : a legal agreement to submit to the decision of arbitrators
b : an act of submitting something (as for consideration or inspection);
also something submitted (as a manuscript)
2 : the condition of being submissive, humble, or compliant
3 : an act of submitting to the authority or control of another

I always thought a submissive wife was more definition 3. I wanted to be the anti definition 3. Why couldn't it look more like definition 2. That sounded reasonable. I have always favored the word: complaint.

Many times throughout my marriage I have heard and read Ephesians 5:21-33. As a newlywed that passage struck fear in my heart and my palms would sweat and I would look at my husband and think that to myself, “That’ll be the day.” Most of this attitude was born from my upbringing and previous negative experiences which looked a lot like definition 3, control. There was no way I was going to let any man control me, own me, or think that I was his property and he could boss me around. Uh uh. I was young and naive and thought that I always needed to be prepared in the event that my husband would finally wake up and decide that it was his time to turn cave man and start wielding his power or realize that being married was too constricting and then leave.

Now keep in mind that at no point did my husband do anything to deserve these assumptions. I just expected that all men behave as such and I was waiting for him to receive his invitation to the “He Man Woman Haters Club”, then he would arrive home from work one day and say, “Woman, I heard you’re supposed to submit, so get to submitting.” My husband has the patience and restraint of a saint. I have no doubt that there have been many occasions where he probably thought of dragging me back to our cave and reprimanding me over bad choices or behavior. Instead he showed me grace and love. He has let me have my moments of defeat and helped put me back together when I needed it most. My husband functioned like definition 2. *Light bulb moment*

I read the scripture again about a month ago and realized, dang he’s good. I’ve been a submissive wife for most of our marriage. How could this be!? Definition 2! Through his example of following the scriptural model for being a husband and a father. At no point in our nearly 13 years of marriage has he given me a reason to not submit to him. He has proven to me that he would sacrifice all to support me and our children. He gave up the career path that he had set for himself before we even married because he wanted me more than that career that would have placed huge barriers before us. I didn’t ask him to do that, but that act showed me that he was placing me before even himself.

So I dug a little deeper into what the Apostle Paul had to say about marriage and women. I was a little smug before I started thinking that Paul was not married, so how should he know what my husband should expect from me? Fear not women libbers, despite what some may mis-interpret, Paul had our backs. Paul never states that men are better than women, or that men are smarter or more apt leaders. He does say that men are physically stronger. I know, I know that sounds bad but come on. I have met a few pickle jars in my day that I really needed a man to help me out with. On the other hand, I will point out that women are more apt to handling certain things, like pain. Any wife/mother can agree that they can be battling pneumonia and still manage a household. Their husband gets the common cold and you would think that an admission to Hospice is the next step. Where men have us in brawn, we make up for in endurance. =)

Paul makes very clear that women are equal heirs to the freedom and salvation through Christ and that men should treat them as such. Thankfully Paul does not instruct the husbands to force their wives to be submissive. Rather he says that husbands are to love their wives as Christ loves the church. And wives submit to husbands as you would submit to Christ. Um, WoW! It took me a while to wrap my head around that one too. This is where the definition came in handy. Definition 2, rather than definition 3. We are called to love and serve Christ as humble servants out of adoration. Not out of bending to his force and control over us commanding that we love and serve him. We are free to accept and once we do we love and serve out of that love and acceptance. Our submission is an act of love and adoration and knowing that the Holy Spirit will lead us through Gods sovereign plan. This is how God wants my marriage to be. I see far too many marriages where there is a power struggle. Each partner vying for control. It sounds exhausting and oppressive and oddly familiar. At some point I do believe that I have, and at times may still get the thought that I know what’s needed and I’m going to take the reigns. It almost always, Ok always never ends up good. I've learned that submission take work, letting go is hard when it is not in your nature to do so.

My husband has shown me that he has, does and always will live his life with God at the center. He will in turn follow God’s model of a husband and father. He will love me as Christ loved the church. That is to say, that he has accepted God’s assignment to be my husband and that is a lot of work as it requires a distribution of function, rather than a hierarchy of power or dominance. (Remember, Paul said we are equal). However, God has assigned my husband with the financial, moral, spiritual, social and physical responsibility of marriage and our household. Yikes, that’s heavy and it most certainly deserves my respect.

Now the follow through is that my husband is to love me. I know it sounds easy, or maybe not. I have been known to be difficult a time or two... But I know that he loves me. How do I know? Well, he tells me from time to time all the things he loves about me. But I also know that he loves me in a deeper way, as Christ loves the church. He shows me through his guidance of our family, in providing for us, by acts of service to me and to our children, and through his agape love. He loves us as fellow heirs to the kingdom. And finally, he would sacrifice himself if need be for me. Yes, that is deep. This Christ like love is not just feeling, it is more a doing kind of love. At no point do I recall my husband turning to me and asking, “What’s in it for me?” He has always gone to action and done what’s needed to be done for our family and it has always brought about blessings. More often than not I find my husband has done the laundry, has cleaned our kitchen, made meals and taken care of things so I don't have to worry about it. Most mornings he brings me coffee in bed, and I get nightly back rubs. He takes very very good care of me. Why would I not want to submit to my husband knowing that he in turn has submitted to me and is willing to take the responsibility of our household and serve us as Christ is a servant leader of the church? My job sounds easy!!

Now, I’m NOT going to start wearing pearls and calling my husband “Master” or “Lord”, I would laugh if ever requested it. I know that we still function as equals in many aspects of our marriage, he does not expect me to bear the brunt of our household, or child rearing. But I am going to be more mindful of his position, the expectations that are upon him and respect that he is being guided through prayer for what is best in our lives. I will proudly walk in the freedom of knowing that through this I will continue to receive blessings and in turn serve my husband with love for all that he does. There is freedom in submission, in letting go of pride and letting others love you the way they are commanded to. What a blessing to see that God can be the center of our lives, our marriage and our family.

The Legacy of what remains

Leg-a-cy Noun

plural leg·a·cies

Definition of LEGACY
1
: a gift by will especially of money or other personal property : bequest
2
: something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past "the legacy of the ancient philosophers".


In moments of reflection it came to my memory my last visit to California. It has been 9 years this week since I was last home. My reasons for going were to support my family with the loss of my Grandmother over the Memorial Day weekend. I thought of my relationship with my grandmother. How strained it was at times, how so much of it was a a reflection of her own difficult upbringing. I thought with regret how little time my children had with her before her passing. Despite how much we struggled to have a relationship I still loved her and respected who she was in my life. My thoughts moved to a book that my mother in law created from memories of her mothers life. Once the book was published, a copy of it was then given to each of her daughters, and grandchildren. A copy was ordered for each of my children as well. I find comfort in the fact that even at my kids young ages, the pages of that book will hopefully bring back memories of her presence in their lives. My husband's grandmother was an incredible force that has had impact on the lives of countless people. I thought of the legacy of lessons that each of these women have handed to my husband and I through their lives, their experiences and their examples. How much of that legacy influenced our actions today, how much of that legacy did I want to be handed down to my own children as they are growing into their own people.

Aaron's Grandmother grew up in a large family filled with love and faith. She carried this into the home she established with Aaron's Grandfather. When I married Aaron I was brought into a family that always had their arms extended to give hugs, they are always ready to encourage and always ready to feed you. They send notes and sincerely want to know how you are. Even Aaron's aunts send our kids valentines cards and little notes, gifts and trinkets on their birthdays. I would receive a birthday card from Aaron's Grandparents and I don't know that they ever understood the impact of that. Every year the card was for a grand daughter, not grand daughter in law, or our grandsons wife. No, they would go to the section of birthday cards for a grand daughter. It wasn't until I married Aaron did I actually appreciate the joy of celebrating birthdays. Many things in my house are little trinkets that were created by Grandma Leah. I have a notes and cards that she had sent, little bits of encouragement she sent, thank you's for visits letting us know how much she enjoyed watching us raise our children. I felt honored and overjoyed to name my youngest Annika Leah after both Aaron's grandmother, Leah and his mom as her middle name is Leah as well. I even created a trinket for Grandma Leah. I made a mini brag book for her when I was in my hay day of scrap booking. After she passed Aaron's grandfather found it in her purse and I was honored that he wanted to see it returned to me. I never doubted that a day did not pass that she wasn't in prayer for us and each and every member of her family. She blessed so many, and I have no doubt that she received many blessings in return.

I felt that the blessing of having Leah call me her grand daughter meant that I in turn had her as a grandmother. That gift will remain with me all of my days. While I had a grandmother of my own, our relationship was quite different than what I had with Leah. My grandmother lost her mom while she was still yet a child. She tried to take care of her siblings when her father was unable to. Yet the state thought otherwise and had them separated into foster homes. She was considered too old for placement so she bounced around until she was 18 and released on her own. She married my grandfather while he was still in the Navy and they raised 2 children. My grandparents were old school and they never talked about their childhoods. They were stern, had high expectations and made it clear that children were seen and not heard. I'm sure it was hard on them since they felt that by taking care of their family they were showing their love. They were always willing to help their kids after they made a mistake. My mom would come back home after a failed marriage and twice brought a child back home as a result of it. They raised my sister and I'm sure that 15 years later when my mom returned with me they were just exhausted. I remember many a trips to the grocery store or the salon with my grandmother. She had to feed me breakfast (A bowl of All Bran) before I went to school. She had to pick me up after school, and all of the countless times they had to pick me up from school when I was sick.

It wasn't until I met Aaron's family that I came to realize that I had never been hugged so much in my life, literally! I found it difficult to accept so much verbal love, encouragement and hugs as it wasn't common everyday practice in my family. There would be no condescending remarks, judgmental statements, or stare downs. To his family I was not a living breathing example of my mom's spontaneous behavior that they would have to once again take care of. As my Grandmother's health declined and the Alzheimer's progressed she seemed to be more free than I every remembered. We would talk on the phone and she would tell me that I sounded good, I must have blushed because I never remembering her compliment me before. But she would go further... She told me that she was proud of me and during one of our last conversations she told me that she loved me. I remember her telling me that once before. I was in the ICU at Loma Linda University Medical Center after the car accident and they had rushed in to see us. I remember her holding my hand after being told of my injuries and my impending surgeries. I remember her holding my had and telling me that she loved me, and she called me dog. (Now this is going to sound terrible, but she called all children dog. It sounds condescending, but it was just a pet name, no pun intended. like "dear" or "sweetie". I don't know why "dog" but it was endearing to me at the time). Looking back I can see that she loved me, despite the fact that I was yet another example of my moms behavior.

I know growing up I thought she hated me, but when I thought hard enough I remember times where she showed me otherwise. I remember stove top jiffy pop popcorn being a nightly treat when the dodgers were playing. My grandfather would make it and I would be allowed an extra half hour before bed to watch another inning. I remember sitting next to her and reading little golden books to her while I was yet to start kindergarden. She told me that I must have been the smartest person in our family to be able to read before I started school. I remember her and my grandfather drawing me pictures so that I could use colored pencils to color them with. I remember her putting black olives on my plate and telling me to count them to make sure I had 5 since I liked to put them on my finger tips before I would eat them. It was probably so I wouldn't put my grubby fingers in the jar, but I like to think that it was an act of love. Treats weren't really in their home, diet soda was a treat, but we had regular home cooked meals that involved meat, potatoes, a vegetable and a slice of bread with butter. She loved us and made sure we all ate a healthy diet. And finally in the final months of her life, I'd like to think that in the midst of the Alzheimer's she felt free to confess that she loved me and that she was proud of me and that came from her heart. I wish I was as brave as she was. I'd like to tell her that I am proud of what she did with what life handed her. That I think she did the best she could, and that I love her for showing me what she able to. I wish I was braver when I was little to run up to her and hug her more. I'm sure she needed it.

Now I am faced with the task of raising 4 very unique people. Some of their actions and attitudes remind me of both of these grandmothers. Annika is always creating trinkets and leaving notes for people. Madison has a very nurturing nature and is always willing to take care of what ever or whomever. All four of them have a desire to explore their faith, and deepen that connection with Christ and learn more of how to live and walk as children of God. I am trying to find a balance of telling and showing them how much I love them and how proud I am of their accomplishments. I want them to have the freedom to discover who they are, I want to help them when they stumble, and I want them to always know that I am willing to hug them when they need it. Luckily for me they know when I need a hug and are more than willing to grab me and tell me that they love me too.

I hope that Aaron and I are able to take the good from our experiences, learn from the bad and filter them into a legacy that we can hand down.

A fate far better than Pheidippides

In 490 BCE, Pheidippides, a Greek soldier, ran from Marathon to Athens (about 25 miles) to inform the Athenians the outcome of the battle with invading Persians. The distance was filled with hills and other obstacles; thus Pheidippides arrived in Athens exhausted and with bleeding feet. After telling the townspeople of the Greeks' success in the battle, Pheidippides fell to the ground dead. In 1896, at the first modern Olympic Games, held a race of approximately the same length in commemoration of Pheidippides.

On May 1st, 2011 I ran 13.1 miles of the Cincinnati Flying Pig Half Marathon in 3:14:44 with my oldest son, Jacob by my side. Well, technically he was 30 seconds ahead of me. He kinda sorta ditched me that last 100 yards as he wanted to sprint in to the finish. I wanted to as well, but we'll get to why that was harder for me later. This finish was significant to me in more ways than simply running my first half marathon. It was me doing something I truly thought was impossible just 6 months prior. I accomplished it under different, less than favorable circumstances than I had originally hoped for. And lastly, I finished when I truly questioned if I could.

The events that lead up to the Pig were not easy. As I have mentioned in previous posts, I did not follow the 7 P's. So I was more undertrained than I should have been, and I would have liked to have been. My husband was on the injured reserve list. This was huge to me. It sounds so silly to say that I doubted I could run this without him. But I found through my anxiety when he broke his foot and the realization that I was going to have to do this on my own that I rely heavily on him. It wasn't just about the running. I have had a huge anxiety of crowds since I was a little girl. I blame it on a Conan the Barbarian show at Universal Studios Hollywood when I was 7. We were exiting the show and I was bumped, and I fell. I ended up getting stepped on as people kept filing out. In my 7 year old mind it was traumatic. I had to go to the first aid station with cuts and bruises. Even now I find that I get a little itchy, sweaty, heart pounding in my ears nervous when I am faced with large amounts of people. The start area, the beginning of a race, certain areas along the course and of course the finish area was a huge concern to me. The fact that there are literally walls of nothing but people was unavoidable. My other concern was that Aaron was to be my seasoned coach along the course. I was going to look to him for that positive reinforcement that I was at a good pace, I was looking healthy, making good time, that I could do it. I needed his motivation. I was going to have to find another way. Jake was going to run in his fathers place. Which solved the problem of the $75 bib number, I questioned how motivated I could be while I ran with my 13 year old son.

We arrived to the starting area in the rain with thunder and lightening. There were just as I suspected far too many people. Aaron veered off to look for the volunteer tent my company, Hospice of the Bluegrass was to be at. That left me with Jake and Tim to find our coral. I grabbed Tim's shirt as he barreled through the crowd to the busses so we could drop off our backpacks and to the outhouses for a final potty break before we started. We split at the busses and Jake and I found ourself stuck. We could not get inside the gate to get to a coral. The race started and we inched our way forward and found an opening in the gate and just merged in. It was insane! I am not even sure what coral it was, but we were in it, like cattle. We had no other option than to run or be run over. Around mile 2 I noticed Tim ahead of me. We ran with him for a short distance and then hit the first outhouses at mile 4. That was 15 minutes!! Now I see why people just pee in bushes on the side of the course! I texted Aaron where we were and he sent me back that I was making excellent time. My cross country son asked me why I was walking and running walking and running. I told him I interval run, I can't just run. He asked me why, and I told him because I have one lung. "One lung? Are you a mutant? Why?" I told him about the car accident and how my body had grown accustom to it but it is hard to run longer than 3 minutes at a time. "Does dad know this?" Hahaha. I love that kid. I told him that yes, his dad knew that little fact. Some motivation he was turning out to be and we were turning onto Gilbert Ave. Which to me looked like mount Everest at the time. As you are running up Gilbert you pass mile marker 7. On the other side of the road people are running down, this is mile 11. It plays tricks with your mind when you are pushing hard at your pace and you see people at mile 11 coming down. Ugh. We made our way up Gilbert and turned to Eden Park. Everyone mentions what a bear Eden Park is so I was expecting it to be just impossible. When we reached the top I found that it wasn't all that bad! Gilbert was far worse to me than Eden Park. We got to mile 9 and I was ready to pick up my intervals once again. About 6 paces in to the run interval and the pain in my knee made me stop. I could walk with low pain, but running was like stabbing the outside of my right knee with a knife. Up to the top of Eden Park I found myself ahead of Jake, waiting at few points for him to catch up. Now he was the one chomping at the bit to go. I needed something....

Laurel texted me that she had just seen Tim at the split where the full and the half go in two different directions. This is a very crowded area for spectators and I knew this corner well from being there every year to cheer on Aaron and Tim as they ran. A familiar face was just what I needed. As well as shedding my long sleeve shirt, hat and Jake had been dragging around a hoodie that I tossed but he went back to pick up. That kid will not throw anything away. I tried to tell him that it is protocol, but he wouldn't let it be left behind. I focused on finding Laurel and the girls in the crowd, and when I spotted them I was overjoyed. I gave her the stuff and she ran with me up to the corner. It was just what I needed, I can now appreciate much better why we chase our runners around the course with signs and noise makers and even run a little bit to motivate them. It makes a huge difference mentally.



I kept trying to keep up with my intervals, but it was getting increasingly difficult. I was running for maybe 20 seconds of my 1 minute intervals and walking the rest. We passed mile 12 well on our way to finishing. This is about the place were I went completely numb. Tunnel vision of just finishing. We rounded a corner and I told Jake were nearly there. The back of his foot was bloody from a blister, I knew I had blisters on my toes, I could feel them. We approached mile marker 13 and while I should be wailing in pain I simply giggled. I knew that medal was as good as mine. Aaron had texted me that he was at the finish area handing out the mylar blankets. He was going to be on my left hand side after I received my medal. Jake wanted to run in, I told him to go ahead. of course this was not good for some of the spectators. They were yelling at me that I needed to sprint in for a good photo. If they only knew....



I got as close as I could and gave it my best "sprint" as I crossed the finish, hands up. All I wanted at that point was my husband. I got ushered through a gauntlet and I spotted my man with arms loaded down in mylar. Once he saw my face it was all over. He ditched the blankets and I kept hobbling through the gauntlet... medal... blanket... chip removal... water... banana... fruit cup... Aaron wanted to introduce me his friend Kevin. Kevin was coordinator of the finish line volunteers and was gracious enough to put him to work so he could participate in some fashion this year. Little did I know that Kevin is a running celebrity in the blog/podcast circuit. If you are interested in training information and interval running, Kevin is your man.

So there you have the (very) long of the short of it. I ran. I survived. I may even do it again. I learned that even when gripped with fear, I can do things that I think are impossible. I can do them under circumstances that I think are impossible. And I am fortunate that I did not fall over dead at the finish. A huge thank you to my Chief for believing in me. My son for putting up with me. My amazing friends for encouraging me. My in laws for keeping Noah and Annika yet another year so we could do this insane thing called marathons. And to the Vogel's for yet again, being our partners in madness. Lastly to my God, how wonderful it was to be surrounded by your glory at 6 am. In the rain, knowing that you created a perfect morning for 13.1.

Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur

With so many dates to commemorate and remember it comes as a huge surprise to me that I remember that it was on this very day 14 years ago that a certain handsome gentleman boarded on a plane destined for Asia. That handsome gentleman held my face in his hands before he left and told me that he was going to come back, and make me his, for always.

I drove away finally able to wipe the tears that I allowed myself to shed. We wrote letters that included little notes and promises. We shared our hopes and dreams with pen to paper that crossed oceans to one another. We confessed, professed and allowed our weaknesses to be laid bare in our correspondence. We had to fight battles during our separation. While some were physical, others were emotional. But we held tight to what we mutually knew to be, he was going to keep his promise.

While there will be plenty of time to share other chapters of the story, I had to tell that handsome man that this little lady has no regrets sending her heart with him as he left that Marine Corps base 14 years ago. He has been my ever competent baggage handler, guardian of my heart and confidant. Despite all the odds against us that day, you held true to your word. My gratitude is endless.

The forgotten lesson of the 7 P's

It seems that I have hit that proverbial block wall and I haven't even gotten to the day of the race yet. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn, palms sweat, eyes twitch and heart pound. I try to reason with my irrational thoughts and feelings of trepidation, but it is so much easier said that done. Today I thought of something I haven't heard in ages. But it slapped me in the face when I remembered. I am going to fail because I forgot the 7 P's. Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. I have done it all wrong... I have no doubt that every one of my runner friends will be lecturing me and will no doubt never let me live this down.

I can't even pin point how I got to this place. But I remember saying that I would give running a try, I did some running and did a 10 K and a 5K with ease and loved it. Then my polished, professional runner of a husband said that he would train with me and run the flying pig half marathon. I think my reaction was one of excitement. How utterly unrealistic it seems to me now that I it is a mere 13 days away. My biggest enemy is time. I was trying to find time after work and that worked in my favor until the time change. Going to work and coming home in the dark does not bode well for hitting the pavement. The other issue is our schedule. Aaron works second shift and I work first. So I function as a single parent in the evenings, as he does in the mornings. However he is able to enjoy some running time after he drops the kids off at school. The time change has come and I am faced with storms, after school meltdown and I have been battling migraine headaches. While I love to release stress through a run it is so hard to feel motivated to get out there while there is still day light and you are hungry, not well hydrated enough knowing that your kids are hungry, need help with homework and need advice about navigating friendships and crushes. Aaron and I were doing good about going out for runs together on my days off after the kids went to school. But even then we would have appointments, groceries to buy and a house in dire need of cleaning. So not every Thursday was met with a run.

The last piece to the jenga that is my training collapsing is Aaron's injury. After an errant shampoo bottle incident that left a bruise on his foot he opted to give his all in a half marathon with a goal of sub 2 hours. This meant that he no doubt pushed himself a little harder than he should have and stress fractured the second metatarsal in his foot, thus eliminating him from the flying pig, and the beginning of my anxiety. No seriously, just the thought of running is creating heart palpitations and eye twitching. I never thought that through this whole odyssey that I would not have Aaron by my side, or behind me pushing... Oh let's face it. I was hoping that he would be there to drag me across the finish live.

Now this may come as no surprise to most, but I am a spaz and I have my OCD issues and my anxiety and worry issues. I know I have my little issues that I am working on and I know that some things I just simply have to do so as not to look rude despite the fact that I am shaking on the inside and after it's all over I feel like I am ready to cry. I have to really psych myself up to be in a big group of people. and while my idea of what is "big" has changed thanks to Aaron's exceptionally large family, I have been known to freak out at very large venues if I have no focus other than the big crowd I am surrounded by. 95% of the time Aaron is with me and he is able to take charge and get me through the situation and or let me freak out in private. I will have to endure 13.1 miles of potential irrationalities with out the assistance of my amazingly patient husband. Every time I think that, waves of anxiety and doubt wash over and I am all but drowning in it.

In less than 2 weeks I will have a better idea of what I am made of. I will have a picture of my possible strength, my weaknesses and perhaps I better grasp of my endurance. 13.2 didn't sound like a lot when I imagined running through the streets of Cincinnati with my husband who has run this course several times over, being my coach and confidence on the course. If I make it, I may just have to get 7 P's tattoo'd on me to remind me that I need to always be prepared for that which I don't expect. I'm not a big fan of looking back, as it hinders forward progress. But today I must stop, look back and assess just how far I have come. While the majority of it has been holding the hand of my husband. There have been moments on that journey that I had to make alone. Sunday, May 1st I am going to attempt to go 13.1 miles solo.

Noah's Journey Day 1 Inspire Compassion, Inclusion and Hope

If you know me, than you know that April is Autism Awareness Month. It is kinda a big deal in my house. Noah likes to wear at least something that is blue every day. He is not ashamed of Asperger's. He is not afraid to tell people, "Yeah, I have Autism". He is ready to educate the world. Luckily he doesn't have to do it alone.

Saturday is the fourth annual World Autism Awareness Day. This is big deal to me. Why? The UN declared in 2007 that April 2nd of every year would be a day of World wide Autism Awareness. This is huge because only three specific diseases have been given worldwide awareness status by the United Nations. When the resolution was brought before the General Assembly it garnered census support from EVERY member of the United Nations. The resolution encourages all members to put into place measures to raise awareness through their societies and encourage early diagnosis as well as early intervention. This shows that the prevalence is having a world wide impact.

A global campaign helps to give Autism a spot light for communities to gain a better understanding. World wide there are events that aid in a deeper knowledge of the disorder, impart education on early diagnosis and the benefits of early intervention as well as increase compassion. These events help to celebrate the unique talents and skills of those on the spectrum as these events help the communities to embrace them and their amazing abilities.

A global day of recognition gives voices to the millions world wide who are undiagnosed, misunderstood and in need of help. While my heart is easily found in four parts running about the house. I can't help but feel so much for those parents who are at the end of their rope trying to understand why their child is behaving, or not behaving a certain expected way. I feel for that mother who gets the stares and dirty looks at the grocery store when her child does or says something that seems to be odd or different from what people expect. I feel for the sibling who has to explain to their friends that their brother or sister has autism and they don't know how. I feel for the little boy who plays by himself on the playground every day because he lacks the social skills to communicate with his peers. I feel for the teacher who has a classroom of 35 students and she doesn't know how to help that student who rocks in his chair and obsesses with the buzzing sound the florescent lights make.

Will you consider learning more about Autism? With the rate of incidence now at 1 in a less than 100 it is possible that you know someone who loves a person with autism. What will you do to inspire compassion, inclusion and hope?

A Mile Wide and An Inch Deep

Nothing pains me more than having a relationship of mine, whether it is with Aaron, a family member or a friend, to be at odds. I feel out of sorts, discontent and desperate to see that things get set straight. For the longest time I thought that meant that I was to submit to the requests or view point of the other party. But as maturity and my conviction developed I realized that my own requests and viewpoints had merit and at least an ounce of validity to be considered, and some I felt very strongly about. There have been a rare few times that this has had an impact on a relationship of mine. Each of those times has pained me greatly and I still pray for restoration where it is needed.

As my faith grew along with my desire to raise my family in the light and Grace of a journey with Christ, I realized that I had to have strong viewpoints on topics I never before considered to of high importance in my life. But raising children changes one’s thoughts on importance, as well as what life lessons you are going to tackle and when. The more Aaron and I grew the more involved we found ourselves becoming with our first home church. Along with that came the revelation that much like a dysfunctional family, the church family will argue, stomp their feet and refuse to even consider the viewpoint of another on a given topic. Some stand on the foundation of Biblical teaching, others stand on the standards of tradition, life experiences or personal preference. Some of these hissy fits have ended with fingers pointed, words said inflicting pain and done so much damage that it has pushed some out the doors and out of returning to any church.

Since we started our journey I’ve craved to be involved in a church body that I felt was based on biblical foundations and willing to offer the love and grace of Christ to any and all who entered the door and was willing to take Christ outside of the four wall of the building and be the church out in the world. I have craved authentic relationships with fellow believers who are willing to share the journey with us and likewise with others. However, what I have found is more along the lines with the “Mile wide, but an inch deep” model. Churches want to grow in number, yet there is no depth. We’ve attended what is now ranked as the third largest church in the US. So large that I could bye my beloved hazelnut double shot latte add whip as I walked into the service. It was overwhelming to navigate every weekend the parking lot with trams like Disneyland, the elaborate security placement for our children and trying to establish any sort of fellowship with others. We found that they had small group offerings. But even that had a placement process and a waiting list for leadership, geographical and “life experience” compatibility to be settled. For lack of a better analogy it was like E-Harmony for fellowship. But looking back I can see where I achieved the greatest growth. In a small, intimate setting.

Yet I struggle with the establishment of the church today. It seems that the leadership of the denominations are caught up in legalism and establishing doctrine that is based on social issues and what is right for the establishment, rather than teaching believers the foundations of biblical principals and going OUT into the community to reach those who are without faith. More often than not I’ve seen churches simply open the doors and expect people to come in. While it is nice that you put the welcome mat out, it doesn’t mean that people are going to run in on Sunday morning. When one does dare come in the doors they are then bombarded with a little bit of bible that makes them feel like the worst human being ever, offering little to no hope or grace. Then they are told what chicken to buy, what coffee brands to avoid, which cell phone carrier to have, where to buy your shoes and which government agencies that we all need to pray are shut down. Don’t forget to show us your check book so that we can be sure that you are giving enough of your tithe… And did you really wear those shoes to the service? Hmm… inviting.

Where am I going with this? I am not really sure. I do know that there will always be conflict in a body of believers. The biggest reason is simply that we are human capable of independent thought. We reason what we think is right, wrong and how we are going to deal with it. Sometimes it works out and benefits all, other times it doesn’t. What I do know is that I am not done believing in God’s plan for me, my husband, my children or my journey. As I always do, I still now hold fast to the promises that he has kept and trust that he will reveal his perfect plan. He will lead us to a spring of flowing water that will be far deeper than an inch.

It's Friday I'm in Love

* I am a very impatient person. I always have been, and I fear that it will remain to be my hardest life lesson to learn. I scheduled an appointment with the technological superstars at my local apple store. I was convinced that although I had an apple care plan, and my dear Pearl was 2 years old they were going to tell me, "Sucks about the OJ, but we can get you set up with a new shiny model over there to the tune of $1200." So, I marched in with my laptop, external hard drive to have my digital life migrated over to the shiny new family member and my resolve that I was going to drop some serious coin. The gentleman took a look, and then said, "Your laptop is still covered by Apple Care, and while liquid damage voids the warranty Apple will make this one time exception. We will replace all the compromised components and if the data can be salvaged we will move that over to the new hard drive. Is Tuesday ok for pick up?" Now this is where I was standing there with my mouth open..... Say what? Yes, my trusty and well loved and used macbook is getting all fixed up, and it is not going to cost me one red cent. The con is that I have to wait 5 days until I can have it back.

* Along with all of this was the inner struggle of acquiring an iPad. I have wanted one for some time.... like a year. But I've been a good girl and I waited until the Chief suggested it. It was understood that for my Christmas/Valentines Day gift I wanted one. Then came the struggle of waiting for the new model to come out since I am convinced that it's going to have the camera..... I want that feature too..... Ugh. Well, I just couldn't wait any more. After the revelation that I was not going to be needing to purchase a new laptop the Chief suggested I do some online shopping for an iPad. And shop I did. I was going to get the 32G and get quite happy with that. No no no, the Chief said, "If you going to get it, get the 64G." His words!! So get it did! once again, the con is waiting. I SHOULD be here Tuesday. Along with the keyboard stand, the oval stand, and a case. So Tuesday will be the new Christmas morning for this girl. tee hee hee

* So half of my seasonal desires have been met. It has been sunny between this last snow storm and the impending one tomorrow. The sun is near blinding however it is cold cold cold. The windchill is downright painful! Come on May the sooner you get here the better! I am your biggest fan!!

* Miss Annika spent the majority of the week down and out. While there were threats of coughs and sore throats and even a few low grade fevers from other Indians, Annika was by far the sickest. The nasty high fevers and lethargy left her on the couch through the first half of Wednesday. She reluctantly went to school on Thursday, but at that point she was fever free for over 24 hours and the cough that remained came with the warning from her doctor that it could linger for upwards of 2 weeks. I get the call this morning just under 2 hours after dropping her at school that she was vomiting in the office as we spoke. Lovely. I let them know that I was at least an hour and half from being able to get there. To prove that I was the worst mom EVER, Annika has to rest on the cot in the nurses station until we could get to her. Of course we come home and she is eating like she has two stomach's and playing wii like it's her J.O.B. I missed 2 whole days and 3 hours another this week at my own J.O.B. so if this continues I'm voting someone off the reservation.

* At some point I WILL find the time to get a hair cut. I am reaching that point where I lose all hope that I will and then I lock myself in the bathroom with scissors. Eeek!

Just Another Manic Monday

Being fully prepared to have a week that was drastically better than last, I set about to prepare myself with reading, prayer and meditation to fully accept the reality of my experiences and to be accepting of those to come. Yeah, yeah, yeah.... Let me back up.

Thursday was absolutely, unequivocally one of my lowest days in quite some time that I can recall. But through the trial came a deeper understanding that laptops are expensive, but even more important of who I am, what I believe and the path that I am on. It prompted me to take a deeper look into the world, into myself and to my goals. These include both short and long term. I do believe that I came out of the day a much better person than I was when I woke that morning. Friday was spent in more quiet reflection and spending time with that amazing man who I am privileged enough to call my husband. We compared our individual goals and the goals that we would like to see accomplished as a couple and as a family. Taking the time to come together and compile a game plan was comforting as well as confirming. However Saturday brought with it an unexpected blessing. Sunshine.... Yes! I was able to take a nice run with the Chief in the sunshine and 40 degrees. It was invigorating to soak up Vitamin D and further discuss strategy for some upcoming renovations while enjoying the Southern Ohio terrain. Since then I have felt better than I have in some time. Saturday and Sunday night found me sleeping more soundly and restfully than I had in what felt like ages. Which is odd considering how busy we've been.

What I carry with me today are some of the following confirmations:

* I have an opinionated big mouth....

* It is hard to be the bigger person when you are a girl and are only 5'3" and weigh in around 110....

* The only microscope I need to concern myself with being examined under is that of my God. He knows my heart, my adoration, my love and my soul. He sees the whole of me unlike anyone else who may consider that they do. And that assurance carries with it the peace I need to sleep restfully, worship freely and know whose I am.

* In turn, Satan knows whose I am too. The closer I get to God and the deeper my faith grows the more arduous his efforts become in creating my stumbling. Therefore I need to cling to the word and hold tight the results of promises kept as I face the storms that are intended to bring me down.

* I have incredible friends who have the astounding ability to make me smile. With words, gestures and laughs. I adore my friends and they are an appreciated, loved and needed aspect in my life. With every text, phone call and poke in my ribs and kick to the rear they encourage me to strive to be better, applaud my efforts (even when they fall short). They are ready to giggle when I need to giggle, cry with me when I need to cry and celebrate with me when I need to celebrate. And I am always at the ready to be the same for them.

* I am a big nerd and I will no longer attempt to hide it.

* I have never been more sure or confident of the path that Aaron and I have strived towards. We have both come to a prayerful conclusion as to what we want to be when we grow up and we have aligned all the appropriate pieces to see that come to fruition. What contentment there is in even a fractional revelation of your purpose.

* I have a very strong disdain for viruses. My sweet little fidget has been slowed by un upper respiratory virus. I have been serenaded by the sound of coughs, hacks, wheezes, sniffles and a chorus of whines. The best estimation by my trusty pediatrician.... at the very least, a week before she is feeling like herself. Sigh. It broke my heart when after a dose of Motrin she asked when we were going to the doctor so she could get medicine to make her better.

* My kids have to be the most bizarre kids in the tri-state area if not the country! My monkey told his sister that she just needed to puke. While I thought that he would follow that up with the suggestion that it might help her stomach feel better.... rather, he said that it would give her another day off from school. For every jubilation over a snow day I was surprised by the utter disappointment at the impending snow storms ability to give the kids yet another snow day. It would appear that they are very attached to the idea of having a spring break. Who knew? For the record, I'm with them. While I really don't care if they get a spring break or not (I still have to work...) I do NOT want to be driving on a half an inch of ice.

* While I secretly wish that Steve Jobs was my rich uncle who would spoil me rotten with technological trinkets, I will have to find other means by which to acquire the toys I wish to replace and acquire. I realize I should not covet such things... but it is very hard not to when I was the very proud owner of a perfectly good mac book that was struck down in it's prime! Yes, my 2 year old trusty mac book met it's demise when my precious, irreproachable fidget inadvertently sloshed her entire cup of orange juice towards the back of my mac book. While my offspring held the stance of the four horseman awaiting the apocalypse that was sure to reign down I simply cleaned up the mess and excused myself for a short drive to have my break down within the privacy of my vehicle while my amazing and sympathetic husband listened. For this was the final act to my previously mentioned Thursday of doom. Alas, I will soon be the proud owner of a mac book pro. Because if I gotta replace.... I might as well upgrade. The iPad may or may not have to wait. tee hee hee

Now if you'll excuse me.... I'll be perusing the apple website compiling my wish list. =)

Amendment/Addendum

It was brought to my attention that in my late night ramblings a misconception was created. It is quite surprising how one word can create a storm of misjudgment of intended thoughts. Even more shocking to this simple writer is that people even tune in to her ramblings. This outlet was intended and will continue to be a vehicle for simply nothing more than a place to put the ramblings, and a place for extended family to catch up on the continuing misadventures of the little Mundy family.

I would like to Amend my statement of my stance in a previous post. I had mis-spoken (typed) my intentions. I am NOT pro-choice. And I have very strong personal convictions as to why I am not. However, with my ever present lack of sleep (and appropriate editing) I had said (typed) that I was pro-choice, when I am very much pro-life. Ah, semantics.... But fear not. I am not in support of ending a life for the sake of convenience to another.

My addendum is as follows. I still struggle with some of the pro-life organizations and their zero’d focus that is only on that of the unborn child. I struggle with the history of the church and it’s strong arm focus on social issues that come across as legalistic and full of judgment and condemnation. I have sat through conferences where I was told what coffee to buy, what brand of chicken to purchase, why I should not purchase any products that are imported from various countries due to their religious practices. Yet, there are lives affected with that choice. And what is being done to bring the love of Christ to them?

I am far from perfect and I have yet to meet someone face to face who was indeed perfect. We are all blemished, tarnished and unworthy. I am a sinner and I am fallible. But I also know that through my belief in Christ that I am awarded grace and mercy. That God knows my days from beginning to end and he knows that I am an emotional, strong willed, girl who often reacts based on emotion before reason. I don’t know why he created me this way. But, I do know that despite of myself, he loves me and guides me. He knows that my mouth (and fingers) are always 5-10 words ahead of my brain and I am in continual prayer that his muzzle is ready to humble me and reign me in. He loves this sinner despite her sins. I am thankful that grace does not keep a tally.

Romans 5:1-5
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

A Big Wednesday, "What's up with that!?"

So yes, I must confess. Things have not been copacetic around the reservation. Why? Well....

* The sun has forgotten that Ohio exists. I would love to have some freakin sunlight! I am of half the mind to go to a tanning bed just to get some artificial warmth and glow to my skin to make me feel like I live on the planet earth! However the other half that has all the reason and logic says, "No way, girlfriend! You admit girls your age with skin cancer!" Dangnabbit!

* Being an adult sucks. Big Time!! I am realizing that no matter how hard I try, grasping with my finger nails... I am not going to be this young energetic spark forever. My children are growing, and growing and growing. They are becoming mini adults and making more mature choices at every turn. Those that I love are aging and it is requiring some very adult choices and actions. Interestingly enough I work within a community that is geared towards making the end of ones life to be filled with mercy, dignity and compassion. I see it in action daily. But I was ill prepared as to how it would impact my world when it came time to consider the multitude of options from the other side of the table. This has also prompted me to consider how I want my children to handle, or not have to handle so much if I, or the Chief were to be the ones in need of such skilled care. Being an adult means you lawyer up and take care of business, so that you can sleep better at night knowing that you may still look like you're in your 20's *cough cough* but you have the wisdom of a 34 year old.

* I have been in desperate need of some awesome belly laughs, and peace. I believe in the power of laughter to overshadow the darkness. Currently there are several things going on to make me feel that the ever present darkness is upon me, and I've been all Eyore about it too. With the lack of sunshine and the dark twisty stuff I've all but hung my head in said, "Oh bother..." But I have been blessed with some amazing friends who have impeccable timing and inspiriting words. Some are a comfort, while others are just entertaining. In my house it is well known that if Mama is in a bad mood, or any mood for that matter. You can either hug me, or make me laugh and all is right. Because the saying is true, "If Mama ain't happy.... ain't no on happy"!! So, if you are responsible for the result of me smiling or laughing. I am grateful for your heart and your efforts.


I know that there is mercy in the trail. I've received it before, and I know that it will be provided to me again. I believe in the sun, even though it's not shining. I believe that I am surrounded by love, light and truth. I believe that I will weather this storm, and I hope that soon I'll be able to catch my breath while I am enjoying a fruity umbrella drink basking in the sun.