Sweet Home, Burkina Faso...

I'm singing, "Sweet home, Alabama...." as I write this. Last Sunday night I experienced the joy of watching my home, Burkina Faso, West Africa featured on "The Amazing Race." I don't know if any of you caught it, if not you could watch it online, I think. My parents served as missionaries there for 30 years, I lived there 18 years of my life, interspersed with a couple of furloughs and boarding school in Cote d'Ivoire. That's over half of my life. When I think about it, that's pretty significant in recognizing who I am as a result of living there. Watching it's effect on the contestants struck home the reality that it is a heart-grabbing place. It was interesting that the girl that "got it" was a Goth (I know that sounds so un-PC of me).

She and the other contestants had to go to a goat market, load up a bicycle with the goat, a chicken, several large jugs of water, some plants and other stuff. Then they had to ride the bicycle, past piles of garbage, through the open market (butchered meat hanging and raw fish laying out on tables, covered in flies--imagine!--no Harris Teeter experience here) and call out the name of the person they were to deliver the stuff to. Then they would get their next clue. She was really moved by the poverty, but yet the happiness or contentedness and generosity of the people. It literally brought her to tears.

Needless to say, it did me too. To see the familiar scene, I could even smell the raw, exposed meats, the piles of garbage, the local spices, the Arabic tea brewing and hear the chickens and goats in protest as they were being bought and loaded up. The memories are so vivid, but so unlike anything here. I could almost hear the children hollering, "Too-baa-boo," which means "white person," as they chased the contestants both out of excitement and curiosity. Oh, Burkina, I sure miss you and the joy mixed with sadness that you brought to my soul.

I Can't Do it Today!

I can't be a supermom today. I was done before my feet hit the floor. I'm tired and I don't know why. I'm still in my PJs, it's 2:00 pm. My top is inside out, with a hole in the armpit and spit up all down the side...dried. My son did not take a nap this morning and remained grumpy, his "lambie" smelled like sour milk, so I had to wash it. The internet is slow. I found out that Clinton Kelly is gay. My hair looks like Whoopie Goldberg because I slept on it wet without combing it. I have dark circles under my eyes (because they aren't covered in makeup!). My stomach feels weird, maybe because I've had 4 cups of coffee to "wake up." My socks have many colored spots from play dough crumbs as I've walked through my newly mopped kitchen where Eliza was making a "snack" for us all. Psalter leaked through her diaper...onto her Snow White dress and the kitchen chair (which is also decorated with many colors of play dough mashed into the fabric--nice!). Jacob gagged on "real" food and spit up chunks of oranges, chicken and formula because Eliza kept shoving more food into his mouth when I wasn't looking. So I had to change his clothes, which is no easy task. I tried to have a "quiet time" with God, but after the umpteenth interruption I gave up. Psalter wanted to play "Little One" and Eliza wanted to play "Snack time" and Jacob just wanted me to hold him. All I wanted to do was find a port key to a remote cottage, with clean PJs, a cup of fresh, good coffee and gaze into a fireplace...or curl up on my couch and watch TLC for the day. Instead, I have three little people that want me and rely on me and I have laundry to fold and put away, a body to dress, phone calls to make, a dinner to concoct.

Although I haven't felt like being a mom today, I still was able to swallow my selfishness and "funk" enough to enjoy some precious reading time with all three, as they fought to sit in my lap...do some dancing to cheer everyone up, participate in the "snack time" that Eliza put together, enjoy watching her clean it all up without being asked, and now enjoy a long silence from Jacob as he sleeps and the girls as they watch Nick Jr. (Thank you, Lord, for the 3 months of cable we get during basketball season, it's like magic--they don't fight over what to watch!) Just goes to show, I really can't be supermom any day! Days like today show me that I cannot do it alone. Lord, show me how to live out of Your strength and life, because I'm done doing it alone.

Ode to the Last 10 LBs!

I'm running out of excuses as to why you are still hanging around (no pun intended). Most days I hate you and I obsess over you in one way or another: As I try to wear my 'pre-third baby clothes' I end up changing 3 or 4 times. I'm too stubborn to buy new clothes that fit, so I wear the same ones. I think about not eating or exercising myself to death so that you will go away, then I just end up 'closet eating' and being too tired to exercise at all. I keep waiting for you to just "go away," but you won't.

If I'm completely honest, you've been around for the last 20 years because I've always wanted to lose just 10 more pounds and then I'd be happy. So I hope that you are happy with yourself and how many hours I've agonized over you and hated you. I'm sure I had you smiling at Old Navy last week as I tried on 10 pairs of different sized and different cut jeans. You put me in a rotten mood when none of them fit right. And the poor fitting room guy that caught my glares when he asked if those "worked for me" as I'm handing him an armful. (Sorry, Old Navy fitting room guy!)

Your days of victory will be over soon. I hate to tell you, but I'm learning to be content with you. You may stick around forever and may even invite some friends to hang with you. You know, I'm realizing that I have wasted so much time worrying over you. You've even caused friction for me in friendships because of comparisons or jealousy. Even though I've always seen you as a "thorn in my side" God is showing me that you are a gift. Most recently, you are the result of my beautiful son, Jacob. The stretched out stomach and widened hips are a blessing because of what they have brought me-three healthy children. You've also been a gift because you've shown me what I'm trying to find contentment in and that it's empty...I've never found it.

I'm still going to try to get rid of you, I will NOT let myself go. My new attitude, however, is compelling me to accept myself for who I am, right now and not focus on what I want to be (I will never get there and will waste my time trying). God has made me a beautiful creation and because of that I want to honor Him by taking care of myself. But that doesn't mean that I will necessarily lose you and I'm going to be okay with that! On a side note: thank you, J-Lo, for making hips and curves popular. I don't have the nerve or money to insure my butt for $1 million, but your confidence makes the rest of us feel like we can appreciate the curviness that we have and see it as beautiful.

Compassion Dilema

"Excuse me, ma'am..." I heard as I was feeding Jacob his bottle at the Barnes and Noble in the Friendly Center (a nice outdoor mall area). I had seen this young girl out of the corner of my eye come and sit down at a table across the aisle from the man at the table next to me. I had assumed she knew the man and was waiting politely for him to get off the phone and acknowledge her. When he didn't even pause in his conversation or so much as glance her way, that caught my attention. So I focused in on her. Right then I saw why he was conveniently ignoring her. She was wearing a baggy gray hoodie pulled tight around her face, sleeves bunched in her hands like she was cold. Her clothes were dirty and dirt was smeared on her face. After the few moments it took for me to get over my shock of seeing someone like her at Barnes and Noble, I acknowledged her with my, "Hi!" She began to talk about how she and her brother were staying in a truck and they hadn't eaten in a few days and could I spare some change or buy them some food. Still stunned, I asked her if McDonald's was okay and she said it was. So I told her it would take a few minutes to pack up my baby. She told me to take my time and that she would be outside. Then she disappeared. I noticed an older man a few tables away eavesdropping on the conversation. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered what the young man that ignored her was thinking, maybe, "Phew!" and glad it was me and not him dealing with her issues. Who knows.

My initial feeling was a sinking stomach. I had been debating going shopping with my gift certificates I got for my birthday or going for a walk because it was my free morning with just Jacob. I only had 45 more minutes of free time and now I had offered to buy some food at MickeyDee's. I knew that I couldn't just do that without hearing their story, asking them questions, praying for them. That's what they needed more than the empty, unhealthy calories I was about to fill their stomachs with. So the battle raged within me, compassion versus being inconvenienced or more like selfishness. I was used to dealing with this in my neighborhood, but I didn't expect to have to deal with it here. In fact I come here sometimes just to escape my conscience, drink a cup of expensive coffee and read up on celebrity news.

So, as I dragged my feet outside, I prayed that the Lord would change my whiny heart and give me compassion. I didn't want to give them food out of mere obligation or guilt, I wanted to share the gospel with them too.

I didn't see her on the curb or the bench outside like I expected. In fact, I walked to my car and looked around for a beat up truck...still didn't see her. I climbed in my car and waited for her to approach or call out across the parking lot. I drove around looking for her and couldn't find her. A mixture of relief, guilt and sadness filled me. I really did want to help her and talk with her. Did I not look hard enough? Had she been asked to leave because she didn't look like the norm for B & N? I ran an errand across town thinking about all of my emotions. The Lord assured me of His love for me and His love for this girl. He was big enough to take care of her, so I prayed for her. He gently reminded me that whenever I love and care for the "least of these" I'm caring for Him. "I tried, Lord." But then He reminded me that it's my heart motivation that He cares about, not my actions.

So, Lord, forgive me for my selfishness. Grant me the ability to give up my precious free time to share Your compassion with those who desperately need it! May I understand Your love for me to the point where it COMPELS me to share the gospel with everyone I meet whether through word, action or both. Help me to believe that it's this love that can overcome fear, selfishness and a hardened heart. Thank you for Your AMAZING love!!!

Look at Me! Look at Me!

Last week I took the kids to Chick Fil-A for lunch and they were playing in the play area afterwards. It was the day that school was out, so lots of bigger kids were there terrorizing my small, timid children. So I was already annoyed by that, Psalter had been told to go away and I had to go up and pull her foot out of the netting at the very top level, meanwhile she's screaming her head off and the child that told her to go away was screaming thinking she was going to get into trouble and it was her fault. I think some of you get the picture.

I was ready to leave, but Eliza was having fun climbing, probably on all the areas she wasn't supposed to climb-oh well. This other bigger girl (second/third grade maybe) was balancing on the top of the opening structure right around where I was keeping track of Jacob. She kept saying, "Look at me! Look what I can do! Look at me!...." I ignored her at first hoping she would stop talking to me. Then when I realized she wouldn't I acknowledged her, "yes, you are balancing, good job!" I wanted to say, "Don't fall on one of my kids and stop asking me to look at you!" I know, I sound terrible, don't I? I was just so annoyed by her constant badgering for attention. I even had a "Phew" moment thinking, "I'm so glad my children aren't that needy for attention! Blah...blah...blah..."

Then the Spirit struck me, "That's you and pretty much everyone you know, including your children!" I realized that we all do the annoying, "Look at me, look at me!!" This girl could have come from a perfectly healthy home, just like my kids. But we all have the same longing, "look at me, notice me." It just plays out differently for all of us. For me it's, "notice me", not that I dress outlandishly or act obnoxious for attention. I mostly want to be noticed that I fit in, I'm acceptable. I'm more quiet about it and try to cover up the fact that I have this longing by appearing that I have it all together.

All of our insecurities that we obsess over: being in style, being in shape, having the nicest house or car, our kids dressing a certain way, etc. all of these come from the deep longing of simply wanting to be accepted. Our deepest longing is to be accepted for who we REALLY are. Some of us, me included, don't know who we REALLY are because we've assimilated into people we are not just to be accepted or prove ourselves worthy of acceptance. God has been working this out in me and helping me to see who I truly am and giving me the ability to accept myself as "Fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139) I still, however, cry out like this little girl. "I'm sorry, BTW, little girl for getting annoyed with you because you have really depicted my heart and my true longings. I will not easily forget you."

Wisdom From a Four-Year-Old

The other day as I was having a quiet time, Eliza asked me to do something with her. Used to being interrupted, I said, "Not right now, I'm spending time with Jesus. When I'm finished talking with Jesus then we can play." Her response was, "I pray sometimes too, Mommy." I said, "Really, when do you do that?" Thinking she was talking about prayer time before bed or at the dinner table. But she answered, "Well, I just close my eyes and bow my head and pray to God alone in my room." I said, "What do you pray about?" "I just sit quiet and pray, Mommy." "I know, but what do you talk to God about when you pray?" "Nothing, Mommy, I just sit quiet and listen to God."

My eyes welled up with tears as I thought about what I could stand to learn from my 4-year-old! To sit and quiet my spirit enough to listen to my God. Isn't that what prayer is intended to be? Less talking from me and more listening to God. Oh, God, may my prayer life be more childlike: simple, expectant, full of faith and innocence.

Cute Things My Kids Say: Part 2

One day some neighborhood girls were knocking on Dayna's (our housemate who rents the basement apartment)door. I hollered at 'em (in the 'hood' this means that I leaned out my window to talk to them). Eliza was standing behind me and asked, "Mommy, why are they a different color and still our friends?" So it gave me a chance to explain God's love for all people of the world no matter what race, socio-economic status, culture, He loves us all the same. And He calls us to love ALL just like He does. Her response, "Yeah, just like 'be ye kind one to another...'" (BTW, I didn't teach her that verse, her preschool beat me to it).

The night of the time change I was alone with the 3 kids and we had eaten dinner and it was only 5:30. What do we do for 2 more hours???? So we went to Chick Fil-A for ice cream to kill some time. For two days I had been working each day, so I hadn't worn makeup or worn anything other than beat up stretch pants and my bright red crocs (which I love). As we walked into Chick Fil-A I was waiting for Stacy and Clinton to jump out from behind the counter and hand me a Bank of America card with $5000 if I turned over my wardrobe (can you tell what my favorite TV show is?). The only redeeming quality and reason I MIGHT be acceptable here was because of my NorthFace fleece and red crocs. As we were leaving Psalter said, "Mommy, you look so pretty tonight. I like your shirt." I laughed silently and told her 'thank you.' Then Eliza piped up, "Mommy, when are you going to put on some makeup. Maybe you could wear some jewelry and a head band instead of a ponytail. Because you've been wearing a pony tail lots of days and you kinda look like Jenny from Oliver & Company."

Yesterday in the kitchen Eliza said, "Mommy, you're the best mommy!" I said, "Eliza, you're the best 4 year-old!" She responded, "No, mommy, I'm not, lots of times I'm bad." I asked why she thought that. "Because sometimes I take Psalter's toys when she just got them for her birthday...." She named a few more things that didn't make a lot of sense. I felt this was the perfect opportunity for a lesson on grace, so I took it. I explained how Jesus died for all of our "bad" stuff and so we can still be the "best" because Jesus is living in our hearts and through us. Eliza responded, "Mommy, that's just shocking!!"

I don't have much more from Psalter because it's been a lot of whining lately (welcome to the 3s!!!).

Overworked, Underpayed, and Usually Unappreciated, Yet I Love My Job...

Lately I've been really striving to "stop and smell the roses" so-to-speak. I've realized that it's not so important to have the floor vacuumed, the dishes and laundry done or the toys picked up. It's more important to have puzzle races, play "Little One," color, tell stories, play peek-a-boo and give my children juice or a snack when they ask, not "...in a minute." No wonder they don't always do what I ask right away. I hear myself saying "...in a minute..." too often.

A few weeks ago a friend sent out an e-mail which contained a poem that was written by a young cancer patient. She was encouraging us all to stop and listen to the music, not dance our life or time away. It struck a chord with me. (no pun intended). Having some good friends who are struggling with cancer made it sink in even more. They suffer so much, yet they seize every moment of life and find the joy in it, no matter how simple or hard it is.

We decided last month that I should cut back on some work hours, so that I could spend more time with the kids. Can I tell you how much I'm enjoying it? Psalter benefits the most from it right now since Eliza is in pre-school 4 mornings a week. This past Wed. when Jacob was napping I experienced the sweetest moment with Psalter. We were playing Cinderella, I was Anastasia and I was taking a nap on her bed. I asked Psalter if she was going to tuck me in and she said "No." She went on her way and I lay there quiet. Then I saw her coming out of the corner of my eye. She knelt down, rubbed my head and started singing, "Jesus loves me, thisino....they are weak, but He is prong..." Then she leaned over and kissed me on my cheek (which was hiding a smile) and said, "I love you so much, Little One!" I wanted to cry, the emotion that welled up was so intense. I was so content to be who I was, where I was, right then. Those moments are the ones that make it all worth it. I wouldn't have "had the time" to experience it if I had let the other worries and duties get in the way. So, stop dancing through life--it WILL go on, stop and listen to the music. May you find peace and rest in the stopping and the listening.

Thank You, Lady in the Little Black Car!

As you turned around the same moment I realized what I had done, I was sure you were cussing me out with a big, "F*** you!" As every emotion surged through me, as well as my own few choice words, I saw the big dollar signs, the grumpy officer, grumpy you and rightly-so frustrated husband. I was already late to pick up my oldest from a Halloween party and therefore late for another birthday party we were going to after that. I could see the disappointments everywhere.

But...you drove off. Then I realized you had been saying, "I'm F-I-N-E!" (Good thing I don't have to rely on my lip reading skills very often, huh?) Either you are not so attached to your worldly possessions or you were running late too, or maybe you knew that there was most likely no damage and didn't want to make it a big deal. Bless you, though, you did not even get out of your car to look and see IF there was damage. My big ol' mini van could have eaten your cute little car for breakfast, there was bound to be a scratch from the bump.

Anyways...thank you. And...sorry for my initial judgment and my stupidity. Hope I don't run into you again!