Why I love Sundays...

The shrieking of my alarm clock is not what wakes me up.
I get to slowly sip my first cup of Jo.
And then another one, if I want.
I take a loooong, steamy shower, which may or may not involve confronting the monopoly of leg hair that has accumulated during the previous week.
I put curlers in my little girl's hair, and I can even take the time to paint her nails.
I have enough time to make something real for my kids for breakfast.
I get to see my peeps at church.
I get to worship God - like I am the only one sitting at His feet.
The sounds of football games sweep through my house for hours on end. There may not be any other sound that relaxes me like the sound of a good football game.
The kids play out in the backyard all afternoon, with only minor sichoos needing my attention.
I clean, do laundry, and feel incredibly productive.
I light candles because I know we'll be home long enough to enjoy them.

My list gets checked, and checked, and checked.
Today, I checked these:
1. Mending: basket of clothes.
2. Vacuum under bedroom and living room furniture.
3. Go through kids' closets, removing warm weather, smallish, and ruined clothing.
4. Reorganize pots and pans.

My house sparkles like a model home - if only for a little while on Sunday afternoons.
The dishes are done. The backpacks are ready for school. All laundry is put away. Clothes for tomorrow are ironed and set out neatly on the couch. My house smells like autumn spices and cleanliness. Yummmmm....

Sunday is the one day of the week that I feel like I've got it all together.
And to reward myself, I have drawn up a piping hot bubble bath that I will soak in right after the Cowboy game ends.

See? I love Sundays.

Some days

I don't know what it is, or why it is, but some days I wake up and I feel overwhelmed by the large-ness of everything.
The immensity of our world and all the people and problems in it, the expansive nature of it all.
I find myself feeling so small, so insignificant, so uncertain.

Then as quickly as that first thought of the 'hugeness of things and the smallness of me' enters my mind, God reminds me of how very much larger and how very much more in control He is.
And I am safe.

Thank You! Thank You, my great Father!

ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

An old commercial jingle - most of you probably don't remember.

It is as if I will never be able to give any solid details about all this transition that I have been harping about for months.
Mostly because there has been no change, but I do know that God has been preparing our hearts and preparing the hearts of individuals in the path that lies ahead.
I know God is going before us to make whatever happens happen in a way that proves to be successful for our family as a whole and for Chris and I individually.

I do not remember a time when I was forced to put so much trust in God. I am a control freak. All this waiting and believing has been taxing to my flesh, but has benefited my relationship with God and my husband.

So to catch you up on what's new-ish:

I submitted an application again to our local school district for an open elementary position - not music, just general classroom. The district requires you to submit a letter of interest and other necessary application related items for each job you desire to apply for - so Monday was spent working toward that end. Maybe an interview is on the horizon... 3rd time's the charm, I hear.

I have yet another certification exam tomorrow. This one will get me in the door as an English teacher in Middle School. Lord willing.

Another prospect has been brewing and may even serve to get my family back in church - my whole family. Sigh. Too wonderful a thought for words and the true desire of my heart. Having my husband next to me each and every Sunday.

We haven't heard anything back from the Fire Department, but hopefully God will provide us with a job for me first so the transition does not require us to sell our house.

We also don't want to take the kids out of their school right now. If I am to find employment, I am up a creek with afternoon care for my kids. Any ideas?
I will need someone who could pick them up from school at 1:30pm every day and keep them until I could come pick them up after work. And of course I would pay whoever that person was.
Please send your suggestions this way...

That's pretty much it in a nutshell. I hate to be that annoying friend who drones on endlessly about all the transition that will seemingly never take place, but I happen to believe that God's plan for us is near and within reach. It is something I have been praying for for a long, long time and I feel like I'll explode if I can't let my thoughts collect cohesively somewhere.

So it's lengthy blogs with no conclusive information. Thanks for scrolling and scratching your head with me.

the big exam...already

he came home tonight after working 12 hours.
he kissed me and sweetly inquired about my weekend with God and the girls.
i cooked dinner while he showered.
we began playing candyland as a family and were enjoying being with one another.

and, as so often is the case, the phone rang. somebody else's dinner and "too long of a wait line" became more important than our precious family time.
he was told he had to go back to the restaurant.

i could understand if it were an organ transplant, a fire, or even a bank robbery.
but it's shrimp and salad.

i said nothing. he said nothing. we know the drill.
he knew that when he finally got to come back home, the kids would be asleep. and it would amount to one more day lost.

then something excruciating happened. the kids began to cry - huge, huge tears. they begged him not to go. and he really, really thought about it.

i saw a man's heart break tonight. and there was nothing i could say or do to make it better.

----------- finding joy in the midst of adversity----------

the words that were spoken and the wisdom that was imparted this weekend at the women's retreat have resonated in my heart, some i have not yet reconciled with those things i have believed all my life - other words came as a soothing balm for my soul.

i needed to go. the topic needed to be joy. i needed to experience what i experienced.

i didn't expect to have a "joy test" waiting for me at nearly the exact moment i arrived back home. but sure enough, there it was.

over the past weeks and months so many trials have come and gone. in the midst of it, i have let joy, the essence of faith and trust in God, quietly slip from the forefront of my consciousness.

so joy is what's been tucked away. hidden. and finding joy is what will become my focus.

tonight i thanked him for being the kind of man who has sacrificed himself for his family over and over again. a lesser man would have thrown in the towel long ago. i kissed him goodbye and began tickling his crying babies. their tears were drowned out by their laughter.

it's not a big deal - all by itself. but it is those little things that slowly erode our joy.
tonight one point was added to the column of joy.

and so it goes. in the little things that serve to knock us back and steal the stuffins right out of us, we have to reach inside and decide to remain steady on our path, trusting that God sees the bigger picture and that His desire for us is good.

what a wonderful promise!

thank You God for this weekend, and for the wonderful ladies who toiled to make it what it was.
their hearts of service brought us all joy and, i know, made the heart of God glad.

A peek.

There is no way to say 'Thanks' sufficiently for the way you captured our family - but thank you, thank you for these memories, Jenny!

Because you're itching to know...

I wound up being Sarah Palin for Halloween.

Palin poof in the hair, Palin bangs, glasses, blazer, knee length skirt, and peep toe shoes - complete with 4 McCain/Palin buttons to make sure there were no questions...
(Does Sarah Palin wear her own political buttons?)

It was easy.
It was free.
The preschoolers at my school told me their parents voted for me.

All in all, the only drawback was wearing panty hose all day...

A boy after my own heart

The day that I first see it on the grocery shelves is a day of celebration.
I almost skip to the checkout with my purchase in mid October.
I actually called my co-worker this year to tell her that the liquid gold had made its arrival!


Egg nog.

Jaron heard me place this call and was very inquisitive about this heavenly experience called Egg nog.
He tasted it and fell as in love with it as I have.

He asked for a refill. I obliged.
He drank so much egg nog that he couldn't finish his dinner. His tummy was too full.
Talk about responsible parenting. It is a childhood experience that everyone should have - the first egg nog overdose.

He then, in a pondersome manner, asked the very question that I have been asking for years, "Why do they take Egg Nog away from us after Christmas?" (As if it's some conspiracy)

That's when you know you're hooked - when you start to try to figure out a way to get the 'stuff' year round before it's even off the shelves.

Many Christmases and Thanksgivings past, I found myself wondering why the powers that be only graced us with Egg Nog for 2 short months a year, only to snatch it back after it has become a regular part of your day.

Egg nog withdrawal is killer.

It was only a few Holiday seasons ago that I found myself being thankful it was only available for two months out of the year - and equally thankful for the existence of Stretch denim jeans.

Meems

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Kimmie D. Poynor

If you would like to be added to the list of Kim's readers...
Please comment on my blog with your email address ( which I will NOT post online)
I will have her add us.

She had to make her blog private - something about Dave running for President 2012...

kidding... only kidding.

Just comment here and you'll be in.

Best Trip to Wal-Mart...EVER!

I have learned that if I must take my kids with me to Wal-Mart for a sizable load of groceries, I had better provide my oldest with something very interesting to do.

Enter: Nintendo Gameboy

Chris introduced Jaron to video games several weeks ago and it has been both a surprising pleasure and an irritant.

It was as if his need to be constantly entertained was completely satiated - if only for a little while - when playing the Gameboy. I resolved to let go of my opposition to video games, so long as they weren't violent in nature, at least for the length of a trip to Wal-Mart or a car trip.

Back to the story, it's long but it gets really good...

So we were in Wal-Mart and he was GLUED to his Nintendo. All was bliss. I filled my cart and was out of there in half the normal time. I really was amazed! I couldn't find anything to do with my 'child rearing' hand. (I think there's a reason for the term "Child-rearing" but that's another post)

I usually use one hand for tandem grocery shopping and cart pushing - the other is reserved for keeping kids in line... I know, it sounds awful - but if you've never been to a store with us - you surely must reserve judgement...

I had checked out and was walking out to the van. The instant onslaught of sunlight as we walked toward the van gave me the urge to sneeze. This was no ordinary sneeze. It was the kind that roused all mucous matter and rattled it loose from the depths. All in .06 seconds flat.

(I know you hate it when I tell you this stuff, but it's integral.)

The problem with this sneeze is that it 'hit' me as I was crossing the Wal-Mart parking lot. I was pushing the cart with one hand and tugging Jaron by the arm with my other hand as he had his nose buried in his game. It was easier to lead him safely to the car than provoke a melt-down by snatching his game away.

Picture feverish thumbing of the controls and intense eyebrows. This was his state of concentration.

It was at this point of utter helplessness that the sneeze presented itself and its' eminent arrival.
What was I to do but just let it out? So for the sake of my children's safety, I sacrificed a cute outfit. It all went down the front of my slacks. YUCK!!

Avery said, "Mommy, you wet your pants! That's why you're supposed to cover your mouth like this." And she cupped her tiny hand over her mouth.

I hobbled to the van - completely disgusted with what had happened - and unloaded kids and groceries alike. I started the van, tucked the cart away in the receptacle next to our van, shut the passenger door, and walked around to get in my seat.

It was locked. Engine was running. My kids were in the car. I was not.

Don't Panic. Jaron can read. Tell him to push the "U" button.
I beat on the window while a teenage girl looked on at my fiasco. I could tell she was wanting to call for help.

Jaron was buried in his game. Thumbs smoking. Eyes fixed on the screen. He did not budge.

I tried again to get his attention, in a less jovial manner. As I recall, there may have been threats...

Jaron's fingers ablaze. Forehead wrinkled. Completely intent on Super Mario Brothers.

I looked sheepishly at the teenage girl, then back inside my van. I looked at Avery. She was shaking Jaron, trying to get his attention. Nothing doing.

I asked her to climb into my seat and start pushing buttons. I began to draw a "U" on the window while urging her to find the letter "U" and push it. I drew at least 11 U's.

Hallelujah! She did it!

We were saved! All except for Mario and my slacks.

You had better believe that there was a video game-free conversation on the long trip home.

So there you have it - the best Wal-Mart trip. Ever.