This morning at about 8:45 the phone rang. And in the midst of the Disney Channel blaring, the constant dialogue that is kids (during cartoons, people)! Why do we even watch them? I ask. And being elbow deep in breakfast dishes and soapy water, I decided to let my answering machine take a message. I don't know what I would do without that thing. Thank you, technology, for helping this scatter-brained mom of 3 when I'm too busy juggling all that that entails. It was a fellow preschool mom asking if I would be interested in car pooling to our field trip. I was flattered that this woman with whom I am only minimally acquainted would ask me.
I enjoyed getting to visit with her a little more about this and that. Kids make great conversations pieces, people. And then on the way home the conversation turned from "religious" education to church. I know a good deal about Mormonism from books written by people who left and became Christians, and from Bible studies that my dad has taught. Yes, it's only the tip of the iceberg. My brain can't possibly retain that much information. Those Mormons have been quite busy with lots of, um, missions of various kinds.
I told her that we are members of a PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) church; and then she asked THE question. "I'm not really sure what the PCA is all about," said she. Oh, boy. I explained that I was raised in a PCA home; my dad is a pastor, etc., etc. But I knew that I wanted to move past religion in the 3 minutes that I had before getting to her house. (No pressure, Elizabeth). I decided to touch on 2 of the 5 points of Calvinism: predestination and irresistible grace. And of course, it's only after the fact, that I can come up with the phrase "once saved, always saved," when describing irresistible grace. When I was explaining predestination to this friend, I told her how we believe that we are chosen before the beginning of time... She interrupted me and added, "To do our work on earth well." Or something to that effect. I told her that we are to do that, but that we are chosen before the beginning of time by God, to be His. *Blank stare.* I wanted so much more time with her to be able to tell her why belonging to Jesus is actually so freeing because, "It is by grace that you have been saved, through faith, and this not of yourselves. It is the gift of God; not by works, lest any man should boast. " Ephesians 2:8-9
I want her eyes to be opened to that freedom. To know that our good works are the result, the fruit, of having a personal relationship with God. With intimately knowing Jesus.
And it humbles me to know that God chose me to be His for no other reason than because He is good. He extended that mercy to me, and someday all the world WILL know.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sabbatical
No, not I. Though I wish it were. Hey, Mom, wanna take 'em, for say 5 months? I'll start in Monaco and work my way West. On second thought, maybe I'll just stay in Monaco. It's fresh on my mind after seeing Ironman 2. It must be one of the most beautiful places ever. But it really doesn't take much when you live in a place like Houston. And even worse than that is Summer in Houston. Rich has started his yearly groaning already. I know, I know, but the alternative, I tell him, is frigid cold for 6 months. My blood is thin, and I will NOT shovel snow. It appears we have a dilemma, don't we?
Our church, Grace Pres., The Woodlands, is trying to send our pastor on a 5 month sabbatical. I was drawn to being a part of the "sabbatical team," aka "the A team," because David's and my dad's pastoral histories are pretty similar. David and his family came to The Woodlands 14 years ago to being their ministry, and my dad did the same over 30 years ago in the Big Easy. Neither man has technically had a vacation in that many years, respectively. It's one thing to appreciate what your pastor does on a weekly basis, but it is another one entirely to SEE what he does on a weekly basis. The church, no matter how smoothly the body works together, is essentially, another member of his family. He eats, sleeps, lives for his church. A man of God who listens to and accepts the call, says yes to a life of much sacrifice. Much, much sacrifice.
I am encouraged by that fact that David has expressed to us what he would like to do on this extended vacation, and we know that one way or another, grant or no grant, we will send him, while praying for renewal, and peace to brim over. I have hope too, that one day my dad will be in a position to be able to get away for an extended period. While we are glad that my parents' vacation is coming to visit for Memorial Day weekend, it's hardly a vacation. God continues to be faithful to both of these men, and I will continue to lift them up in times of much rest and in the busy times. We take our pastors for granted more often than we should. Their labor for the Kingdom is,well,laborious, but God is pleased and continues to rain down blessings.
I look forward to seeing how we as a congregation will grow while David is away, and when he does return, we will welcome him joyfully.
Our church, Grace Pres., The Woodlands, is trying to send our pastor on a 5 month sabbatical. I was drawn to being a part of the "sabbatical team," aka "the A team," because David's and my dad's pastoral histories are pretty similar. David and his family came to The Woodlands 14 years ago to being their ministry, and my dad did the same over 30 years ago in the Big Easy. Neither man has technically had a vacation in that many years, respectively. It's one thing to appreciate what your pastor does on a weekly basis, but it is another one entirely to SEE what he does on a weekly basis. The church, no matter how smoothly the body works together, is essentially, another member of his family. He eats, sleeps, lives for his church. A man of God who listens to and accepts the call, says yes to a life of much sacrifice. Much, much sacrifice.
I am encouraged by that fact that David has expressed to us what he would like to do on this extended vacation, and we know that one way or another, grant or no grant, we will send him, while praying for renewal, and peace to brim over. I have hope too, that one day my dad will be in a position to be able to get away for an extended period. While we are glad that my parents' vacation is coming to visit for Memorial Day weekend, it's hardly a vacation. God continues to be faithful to both of these men, and I will continue to lift them up in times of much rest and in the busy times. We take our pastors for granted more often than we should. Their labor for the Kingdom is,well,laborious, but God is pleased and continues to rain down blessings.
I look forward to seeing how we as a congregation will grow while David is away, and when he does return, we will welcome him joyfully.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Being Still
For anyone who knows me well, you know that being still and I don't really get along. Mark Moore, who is currently teaching a Sunday school class at our church asked a question last week that made me squirm a little. The class is titled "Christianity and the Arts." Rich was gung-ho; I was hesitant. I'm not "culchad" like that. He loved his art appreciation classes in college. How well I remember quizzing him from those flash cards. And our trip to Washington DC that summer included a visit to the Museum of Fine Art. *Yawn.*
"Elizabeth, isn't this print of the Mona Lisa amazing? Look at the shadows, the elegang brush strokes."
Me: "Dude, it's a PRINT. This isn't even the real one." I do remember enough from my own art appreciate class to know that the real mccoy is in The Louvre in gay Paris.
Give me the symphony any day of the week, but pu-leeeease do not ask me to look at fine art with you. For me, it's like opera. Make it stop!!
Anyway, the first week of the class was a pleasant surprise. There were a lot of fun questions asked, and hey, it's Dr. Mark teaching it. 'Nuff said. The question that was the zinger for me dealt with boredom and feeling guilty for being bored. There's a phone commercial, I think, whose catch phrase is "communication at the speed of life." We move so quickly that oftentimes we don't know what to do with downtime. I certainly don't. I'm constantly moving, whether it's cooking, cleaning, laundry, and don't even get me started on things that relate directly to Things 1-3. It drives Rich crazy at times.
So yesterday was one of those really bad days. Thing 3 only takes one nap a day. ONE. And she has for as long as I can remember; and she takes it in the morning. Yeah. So, in the afternoon I let my mind again wander to the working world. I'm restless here at home. Yes, this is what I wanted (granted, what I wanted before I knew what it was all about). Funny how that happens... I tried to come up with ways to make it work. "The 2 younger kids could go to daycare of some kind, Jack will be in kindergarten, and I could be out in the working world again." And that's just the job part. How do you juggle all of that plus things like dinner, laundry, and clean bathrooms?
But what is best for my kids? I think there needs to be, for me, a certain level of dying unto self. There needs to be a major attitude adjustment here with me. I need to learn how to stay home more with my children instead of going all the time. Heck, I pick my boys up from preschool and Jack almost always asks me, "Did you run ALL your errands? Are we going home?"
This is my job. Yes, it's difficult, it's never ending, and one day I will have time on my hands. I might even be bored from time to time, and I will probably miss this stage of my life very, very much.
"Create in me a clean heart, O God. And renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10
"Elizabeth, isn't this print of the Mona Lisa amazing? Look at the shadows, the elegang brush strokes."
Me: "Dude, it's a PRINT. This isn't even the real one." I do remember enough from my own art appreciate class to know that the real mccoy is in The Louvre in gay Paris.
Give me the symphony any day of the week, but pu-leeeease do not ask me to look at fine art with you. For me, it's like opera. Make it stop!!
Anyway, the first week of the class was a pleasant surprise. There were a lot of fun questions asked, and hey, it's Dr. Mark teaching it. 'Nuff said. The question that was the zinger for me dealt with boredom and feeling guilty for being bored. There's a phone commercial, I think, whose catch phrase is "communication at the speed of life." We move so quickly that oftentimes we don't know what to do with downtime. I certainly don't. I'm constantly moving, whether it's cooking, cleaning, laundry, and don't even get me started on things that relate directly to Things 1-3. It drives Rich crazy at times.
So yesterday was one of those really bad days. Thing 3 only takes one nap a day. ONE. And she has for as long as I can remember; and she takes it in the morning. Yeah. So, in the afternoon I let my mind again wander to the working world. I'm restless here at home. Yes, this is what I wanted (granted, what I wanted before I knew what it was all about). Funny how that happens... I tried to come up with ways to make it work. "The 2 younger kids could go to daycare of some kind, Jack will be in kindergarten, and I could be out in the working world again." And that's just the job part. How do you juggle all of that plus things like dinner, laundry, and clean bathrooms?
But what is best for my kids? I think there needs to be, for me, a certain level of dying unto self. There needs to be a major attitude adjustment here with me. I need to learn how to stay home more with my children instead of going all the time. Heck, I pick my boys up from preschool and Jack almost always asks me, "Did you run ALL your errands? Are we going home?"
This is my job. Yes, it's difficult, it's never ending, and one day I will have time on my hands. I might even be bored from time to time, and I will probably miss this stage of my life very, very much.
"Create in me a clean heart, O God. And renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
All Things Bright and Beautiful
"All things bright and beautiful. All creatures great and small. All things wise and wonderful. The Lord God made them all." ~ Cecil Alexander
Having children has caused me, on many occasions, to ponder how great God is in relation to my smallness. I get to that day where it's been DAYS since I've had an "official" quiet time with my Father who made me, and I am feeling like things are just rote. We get up, many times to a screaming baby, we get breakfast on the table,"(but I want PRETTY cheerios),!" kiss the hubby good bye, get kids dressed, off to preschool, off to the store... You get the idea. And that is when it happens. That is when God reminds me that He still loves me, and that He hasn't forsaken me. We're almost always in the car when Jack asks those really thought provoking questions.
"Mom, when we die, we go to live with Jesus, right?"
"Yes, Jack. We do."
"Why?"
"Because Jesus loved us enough to die for us, and we belong to Him."
I inevitably have to fight that lump that forms in my throat as a result of questions like this from a 5 year old who has a sense of what being a part of this amazing thing called life is all about. And the fact that he wants to know the God who created it all, and saw it as good.
Creation is amazing. The clouds outside my window right now are breathtaking. And why do I notice them? Because God gave me children who give me cause to stop and ponder all that is around me. To see it through the eyes of these amazing little people that I get to call mine. And it is indeed good.
Having children has caused me, on many occasions, to ponder how great God is in relation to my smallness. I get to that day where it's been DAYS since I've had an "official" quiet time with my Father who made me, and I am feeling like things are just rote. We get up, many times to a screaming baby, we get breakfast on the table,"(but I want PRETTY cheerios),!" kiss the hubby good bye, get kids dressed, off to preschool, off to the store... You get the idea. And that is when it happens. That is when God reminds me that He still loves me, and that He hasn't forsaken me. We're almost always in the car when Jack asks those really thought provoking questions.
"Mom, when we die, we go to live with Jesus, right?"
"Yes, Jack. We do."
"Why?"
"Because Jesus loved us enough to die for us, and we belong to Him."
I inevitably have to fight that lump that forms in my throat as a result of questions like this from a 5 year old who has a sense of what being a part of this amazing thing called life is all about. And the fact that he wants to know the God who created it all, and saw it as good.
Creation is amazing. The clouds outside my window right now are breathtaking. And why do I notice them? Because God gave me children who give me cause to stop and ponder all that is around me. To see it through the eyes of these amazing little people that I get to call mine. And it is indeed good.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Rules, Rules, Rules
Take two. I'm going to try and punch dance this out before my friend, Laurel gets here, bearing cookies, house plants that won't survive the move to Germany, and her sweet children. That punch dance reference is from the movie "Hot Rod." And for those of you who haven't seen it, I say to you, "Lucky!"
This past Sunday my pastor used an example in his sermon that dealt with rules that we in society create to advance our ideas or agendas. The scripture was the woman at the well, whom Jesus asked for a drink from her water pot. He crossed many socially erected barriers to show love to her, and to tell her about the living water that would be her only true satisfaction.
My pastor's example dealt with swimsuit criteria at a youth summer conference that his children attended years ago. The criteria was meant to be an equalizer, of sorts, but his point was that it could do a lot of harm to the unchurched; his children's friends, in this instance.
Rich and I had an interesting discussion in the afternoon about it because I felt a little differently from my pastor about this issue. And my wise, loving hubby told me that I was wanting to enforce my idea as a better standard. Touche. Which one is better? Does it even really matter?
Which leads me to the issue of schooling. I posted an article last week that I read about the Duggars and Vision Forum. I'm not going to get into either; I will just say that each subject rubs me the wrong way. Or to quote my favorite line from "Open Range," when Robert Duvall says, "That really sticks in my craw."
Rich and I then began talking about the reasons friends present and past choose to home school their children vs. sending them to school. What are the reasons that mean so much that we feel compelled to keep our children at home? What makes us want to send our children to school? Does it matter? Another friend from years ago, who is now in the fight of her life with breast cancer, wrote me the other day about this, privately. She does homeschool her triplet daughters, but her point about schooling was nothing short of refreshing. "Are you redeemed?" she asked. "Good. God will take care of the rest." I've had a lot of reservations lately about public school for my children. Not because of the district. We wouldn't have Jack going to public school for Kindergarten in the fall if the district were subpar. Education is too important to Rich and me for it to just be "okay." We had to go to schools that were just okay, and it's laaaame. Is it thinking ahead to things like evolution and sex education? No. His foundation, and that of our other children, both now, and when those subjects come up years from now, will be shaped at home. They will all be sent out into the world knowing, and I pray knowing personally, that they belong to Jesus.
I have decided to shake myself free from the bondage of former friends who said that homeschooling, and nothing else, was the right way to educate. Rules that they wove together, with some help from things like Vision Forum, Scripture, and a lot of personal opinion. Great. Home schooling is right FOR YOU. Not for me. And there are no "rules" that say otherwise.
This past Sunday my pastor used an example in his sermon that dealt with rules that we in society create to advance our ideas or agendas. The scripture was the woman at the well, whom Jesus asked for a drink from her water pot. He crossed many socially erected barriers to show love to her, and to tell her about the living water that would be her only true satisfaction.
My pastor's example dealt with swimsuit criteria at a youth summer conference that his children attended years ago. The criteria was meant to be an equalizer, of sorts, but his point was that it could do a lot of harm to the unchurched; his children's friends, in this instance.
Rich and I had an interesting discussion in the afternoon about it because I felt a little differently from my pastor about this issue. And my wise, loving hubby told me that I was wanting to enforce my idea as a better standard. Touche. Which one is better? Does it even really matter?
Which leads me to the issue of schooling. I posted an article last week that I read about the Duggars and Vision Forum. I'm not going to get into either; I will just say that each subject rubs me the wrong way. Or to quote my favorite line from "Open Range," when Robert Duvall says, "That really sticks in my craw."
Rich and I then began talking about the reasons friends present and past choose to home school their children vs. sending them to school. What are the reasons that mean so much that we feel compelled to keep our children at home? What makes us want to send our children to school? Does it matter? Another friend from years ago, who is now in the fight of her life with breast cancer, wrote me the other day about this, privately. She does homeschool her triplet daughters, but her point about schooling was nothing short of refreshing. "Are you redeemed?" she asked. "Good. God will take care of the rest." I've had a lot of reservations lately about public school for my children. Not because of the district. We wouldn't have Jack going to public school for Kindergarten in the fall if the district were subpar. Education is too important to Rich and me for it to just be "okay." We had to go to schools that were just okay, and it's laaaame. Is it thinking ahead to things like evolution and sex education? No. His foundation, and that of our other children, both now, and when those subjects come up years from now, will be shaped at home. They will all be sent out into the world knowing, and I pray knowing personally, that they belong to Jesus.
I have decided to shake myself free from the bondage of former friends who said that homeschooling, and nothing else, was the right way to educate. Rules that they wove together, with some help from things like Vision Forum, Scripture, and a lot of personal opinion. Great. Home schooling is right FOR YOU. Not for me. And there are no "rules" that say otherwise.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Contentment
We haven't had rain for close to a month it seems. We had been praying for rain because my newly planted flowers were looking a little parched. And the hubby has just recently laid some new sod. Sooo, maybe no rain was punishment of sorts for having shelled out over $500 for grass? Just sayin'...
Then last night the heavens opened and dumped their month long accumulation of rain, and it continued all day today. ALL DAY. By early afternoon the loony house was running on all cylinders. Rich remembered that "Robin Hood" cam out this weekend, and we were bemoaning the fact that we couldn't pick up and just go to a movie and dinner afterwards. Why did we rush those days? The planning now is exhausting. And don't even get me started on what is required when we double date with friends.
As I began to wallow in self pity, and turn on the dancing veggies for my boys, Emma woke up from her nap. And that was about the last straw for me. Why can't we ever catch a break?! And then it happened. Rich was sitting at our kids' little table working away on his laptop and baby girl toddled over to him. He scooped her up, and after just sitting ever so contentedly for a few, she looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes. Who can resist? He showered her with kisses, and she giggled accordingly. I didn't dare get up to grab the camera because I didn't want to miss any of this. God's way of reminding me of what I do have is enough to bring me to tears. How can I not rejoice in what my rainy, kid-filled, loud and chaotic afternoons are? My children are healthy, beautiful, and have been given to me for such a short time. Thank You, God, for loaning them to me.
I'll have plenty of time to enjoy PF Chang's and a movie with my husband, but I know, I just know, that someday I will actually find myself saying that I miss hearing Veggie Tales, the countless questions from a 5 year old who wants to know this world and its Creator. And I will miss that sweet little girl coming up to me for a kiss and a hug.
Yes. This is contentment.
Then last night the heavens opened and dumped their month long accumulation of rain, and it continued all day today. ALL DAY. By early afternoon the loony house was running on all cylinders. Rich remembered that "Robin Hood" cam out this weekend, and we were bemoaning the fact that we couldn't pick up and just go to a movie and dinner afterwards. Why did we rush those days? The planning now is exhausting. And don't even get me started on what is required when we double date with friends.
As I began to wallow in self pity, and turn on the dancing veggies for my boys, Emma woke up from her nap. And that was about the last straw for me. Why can't we ever catch a break?! And then it happened. Rich was sitting at our kids' little table working away on his laptop and baby girl toddled over to him. He scooped her up, and after just sitting ever so contentedly for a few, she looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes. Who can resist? He showered her with kisses, and she giggled accordingly. I didn't dare get up to grab the camera because I didn't want to miss any of this. God's way of reminding me of what I do have is enough to bring me to tears. How can I not rejoice in what my rainy, kid-filled, loud and chaotic afternoons are? My children are healthy, beautiful, and have been given to me for such a short time. Thank You, God, for loaning them to me.
I'll have plenty of time to enjoy PF Chang's and a movie with my husband, but I know, I just know, that someday I will actually find myself saying that I miss hearing Veggie Tales, the countless questions from a 5 year old who wants to know this world and its Creator. And I will miss that sweet little girl coming up to me for a kiss and a hug.
Yes. This is contentment.
Friday, May 14, 2010
To go or not to go?
This June is my 11 year high school reunion. Don't ask. We graduates of such a fine institution as Ridgewood Preparatory School do things a wee bit differently. Honestly, I've been told, our class reunion is being combined with the class of 2000 in hopes that more alumni will attend. I'm down with that. Not that anyone asked for my 2 cents, but ours was a small Metry school. That's Metairie for you non-natives.
So, last week the invite came in the mail asking me to be a part of the walk down memory lane this coming June 5th at some joint in downtown N'awlins. And again, this is my blog, where I will only occasionally unload what's really on my mind. I know; I NEVER do that on facebook, do I? And I also know that there are many fellow RPS grads with whom I am friends on facebook, and they probably don't even know it. But if you are aware, I am about to dump on some things about high school. So, there. You've been warned.
High school is somewhat challenging for the less popular crowd. I was mainly there because I knew it would take 4 years to get out of that hole, but I did manage to make a few friends along the way. I can remember vividly every year on my birthday being called to the office by Ms. Saunders. I wonder if she's still there like MJ is? And there waiting for me would be flowers and a cookie cake, courtesy of my wonderful parents. They always picked up the slack for their shy, not very popular daughter, and made me feel like a million bucks. I love them. And I love them for loving me for who I was and am.They really are the best, and no, you can't have them. And then it would begin. I would open that box of sugary goodness after lunch to share with my group of friends who ate under the shade of that courtyard tree daily, only to be repeatedly harrassed by classmates who never gave me the time of day otherwise. Humor me. "Elizzzzzabeth! Can I have a piece, pleeeeeaaaase?" Oh, how you bug me. But I'm too nice to tell you no because I want DESPERATELY to be accepted by the cool crowd. Why I ever thought that the girls who ate lunch with the stupid football players were cool, I'll never know. And I'm also now brave enough to tell you that I HATE cheerleaders. I didn't hate all of them. Just most of them. They looked down on me. I always thought I had something on my face when I was around their laser eyes. Anyway...
One of my kiddos' preschool teachers told me that I should totally go to my reunion because all the kids who were flakes in high school will still be flakes, and it would be amusing for me. While I agree that it would be amusing, I fear that I would tell these particular Plastics off. In front of other people.
Having children has changed many things about me. But one of the most significant changes has been to my crap filter, as I call it. If I am given unsolicited advice by strangers concerning my children, it doesn't end well for them. "Yes, she's screaming. And unless you're going to take her home and work your magic, BACK OFF."
So, all this to say, that I will not be attending my 11 year high school reunion. I've got more fun things to do with my life now. And here they are. Well, they're actually at the top of this post. And they are the world to me. Who needs to go be all fake with people who only spoke to you when it involved dessert on your birthday?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
We've entered the world of blogging!
As we enter the second summer of business planning at ExxonMobil, what better time is there to begin blogging? Okay, it's not me, it's Rich. But the kiddos and I will be the ones who will get to spend more time together than we care to dwell on.
A shout out to Debra Lewis for giving me the idea to be more productive, shall we say? with my daily rants about my children. So, here goes. It's been a good long while since I wrote anything for a grade or a critique. That picture there is my high school newspaper from days of yore. I was a writer for the Golden Eagle when I took that Speech class. That there cover story was written by yours truly about the lead in the play that our Speech class presented to the rest of the school. It was "Up the Down Staircase," in which I was cast in the lead role. So I got to write a story about myself (and my supporting cast) by myself, in the third person. Strange, I know. Ah, the benefits of attending a really small school. I'm hoping that Katy Adams can forgive me for being given the lead in that play thanks to a fluke or two. I see, thanks to Facebook, that she works for the Washington DC Fox News affiliate. Way to chase a dream!
I don't get to use as many words during my day as I would like. Just ask my husband abou trying to read the newspaper on a Saturday morning. I'm pretty sure he only gets to use half his brain power for that, thanks to me. So this is going to be where I empty my verbage,and my daily struggles with Thing 1, Thing 2, and Thing 3. For the record, I'm not worried about the privacy thing a whole lot; it's just that I look forward to our next trip to Disney World because I am going to hunt down those Seussian shirts and pay waaaaay too much for them. But you'll get to humor me with switching back and forth between my kids' names, and their nicknames depending on the mood of the day. And let me tell ya, we can go lickety split from an "Oklahoma!"-esque "Oh,What a Beautiful Mornin," to the Siamese version of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" in "The King and I," (Run, Eliza, Run)!
I guess the bottom line is that I enjoy reading blogs so much that I thought I'd take a whack at it. Let's share our struggles as parents together. And as a friend of mine so encouragingly put it, we're all bad parents, but there is grace.
Soli Deo Gloria
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