Confession is Good!

Spiritually speaking I've been pretty dry. Not dried up! Just parched a bit. It's not that the desire isn't there. It is. I miss talking with Him, feeling Him in my life using me for His kingdom. I've just allowed my flesh and busyness to get in the way of what can bring that fresh water and life to me...that's my daily quiet time with Him. If I'm being completely honest with myself, I haven't been the same since being pregnant with Lilly. I've let life overwhelm me I've still been praying and sporadically reading my bible and devotions, but it's been SOOO long since I've had a lengthy talk with God, since I've confessed any sins or really felt him moving in my spirit.

So today I grabbed my bundle of spiritual tools and sat down at the kitchen table. I splayed open the Primetime notebook, my bible, my own journal and had a hot cup of coffee to go with it all. Primetime is an organized notebook written by Dave Early to help you have a daily primetime with God. It is sectioned off as Bible Reading, Prayer and Bible Study and then each of those is sectioned off. My favorite section is the prayer part and it has guidelines for each day of the week. If you're not real sure about how to organize your daily prayer time remember A.C.T.S. Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving and Supplication. Spend a few minutes to as much time as you have in each part.

• Adore God by reading Scriptures about who he is, going through his attributes (holy, truth, gracious) or sing a song to him. Tell him how much you love him.

• Confess to God by asking him to show you where you are sinning, admit those sins and yield yourself to him.

• Be Thankful to him by verbally or in writing telling him all that you are thankful for in your life, from your sight to the vehicle you drive to the shoes on your feet.

• Ask for Supplication (supplying our needs and the needs of others.)

I pray more thoroughly when I write it out; as if writing a letter to God, that's what I do in my own prayer journal. So I get to the confession portion of my prayers and look at the list of questions to ask yourself (according the Galations 5:16-23) and I start to squirm. Here's the list:

1. Do I commit sexual immorality? No.
2. Do I think thoughts of impurity? Uh...maybe.
3. Do I find escape or entertainment in sexually questionable magazines, books, TV programs, music or movies? Do "The Girls Next Door" or the book "Engaged to the Shiek" count? Okay...you got me.
4. Do I have any idols in my life (things that I put before God)? Easily...busyness, family, TV.
5. Do I have any dealings with witchcraft? Not that I can think of right now. Do those Ghosthunter shows count?
6. Do I have hatred in my heart? Ooh...tricky one. I don't THINK I hate anyone, but then I'm sure I've said some nasty things about certain people and that would certainly fall under hatefulness. Okay, check me on that one too.
7. Are there any broken relationships I need to make right? Yea, most likely. My brother, Eric, and I are completely fallen away from each other. He and I had a hard past and now that's he's back in our family life he's living a life that's polar opposite of my own. My fleshly reaction is to push him away under guise of protecting my own family, and there is a real part of that, but I need to really pick apart where I can have a relationship with him and be a good influence and also allow God to change me and work through me with Eric. Okay, okay...I get it, Lord. The question is how and whether he'll let me close.
   
8. Am I jealous of anyone? I wouldn't say I'm jealous of any one person, but I do get jealous of lifestyles. I find myself wishing for something more or that I had those clothes or that body. So, yea. A lot of that comes from TV. I watch the Travel Channel and get so jealous of the people who get to jetset on vacations or stay in Paris.
   
9. Have I committed any unconfessed fits of rage? Ever met Zachary and spent a few hours with him? This is a hard one for me...I confess. I also find myself getting a little nutty in the car, talking to drivers who aren't going fast enough or too fast or just aren't doing what I want them to. :(
   
10. Am I selfishly ambitious? Umm..no. I guess I do fight this a little with trying to let go of what I thought I should be as a working woman.
    
11. Am I divided from anyone? Is this a repeater?
    
12. Am I at odds with any group? No, I don't think so.
    
13. Am I envious? (repeater)
14. Have I or do I long to experience drunkenness or orgies? Drunkenness, yes. Orgies, no.
    

So, I wrote out my own prayer of confession to the Lord including these things and some that are not on this list (I'll keep them to myself *wink*) and I really do feel a lift of burden. I feel like the air has been cleared and I can press forward with my usual day. Not to say I'm not gonna screw up again in an hour or so, b/c well, let's face it...I'm in a weakened state here. But when I do screw up, I need to be more quick to just get down there and say "Father, I screwed up. Forgive me and build me up to be stronger against my own flesh. I want to do and crave Godly things, not things of the flesh."

For I will be merciful and gracious toward their sins and I will remember their deeds of unrighteousness no more.
Hebrews 8: 12

Why is it that I know this feeling, know my Jesus as I do, know how I NEED him and our relationship, and yet I let things get between us? I just don't know, honestly. What I do know is that he's there every single time I turn back around. He always accepts my requests of forgiveness and really desires to spend time with me. When I allow him in he really does stir my spirit and helps me get through the day with less or no urge to scream or want to numb myself with food, TV or other guilty pleasure. I think it's time to get the train back on the tracks and out of Summertime mode. I know I need to be more on the guidelines for my own spiritual health, to be obedient to my Father, to be more an influence in his kingdom and to show my children how a daily relationship with Christ looks. Abby's always watching me...taking in the good AND the bad...and then there are others who'll be doing the same thing. What a responsibility! I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Phil 4:13


Looooong post...sorry! Had to get it all out though! You may go on with your day now. *wink*

My Most Embarrassing Moment

You know, some of the most profound or hilarious material runs through my head during that stretch of time in bed where you are not quite asleep yet, but mostly comfortable and can't draw yourself up. Almost every night I get some sort of thought or collection of thoughts that I think are worthy of blogging or emailing and I think "get up and do it now or it will be lost forever!" I never do though. I always talk myself into staying in bed promising I WILL remember it in the morning when I see my laptop. I never do though!

So in lieu of one of those golden nuggets of profoundness...I'll share with you all one my most embarrassing moments.

Junior year of Kent State and I was living with my sidekick Erica in our first apartment at The University Inn. These apartments were basically glorified suites on the top two floors of a hotel, but it was perfect for just the two of us and we felt like big girls on our own. Our laundry room was on the fourth floor and we lived on the seventh floor "penthouse" (if I'm remembering correctly).

So this particular weekend I believe I'd had too many tacos with Scott and probably could have floated down to the fourth floor on my own cloud of gas, but I took the elevator anyway to put a load in. I take care of business, grab my basket and punch the button for the elevator. Suddenly I get that build up down below, clenched and tried to hold it in. The elevator opens and I'm alone...phew. Ugh, but my belly is cramping from holding it in and I decide to release a tiny bit of pressure and squeak out THE tiniest little bubble of a toot. Ya know, since I'm alone. I feel the release but within nanoseconds I'm surrounded by the foulest stench of sewer and it's inescapable. And of course in that same minuscule frame of time I hear voices waiting for the elevator at the next floor.

SH*T!! One floor from safety! Maybe they won't want to go up. *Ding Door opens*

Only one of the guys got in with me and after our obligatory acknowledgment of each other I just stared at my basket, sweating bullets. Feeling the pressure rise with the elevator and the stench I looked up from my basket and still today not knowing exactly why, I quite sheepishly said "It stinks in here." The guy nods his head while still looking down at the floor, probably trying to hold his breath. And like a true guilty person I said, "It wasn't me." *Ding Door opens*

Oh thanks be to God! I ran away from that elevator like it had held me captive for years and back to the safety of my little apartment. And then I laughed my butt off and even still I laugh at how embarrassing it was, but more than that...why the hell did I implicate myself by denying any part of the stench? That ALWAYS points the finger right at you. The old "he who smelt it, dealt it" deal, right?

So there you go. I'm the elevator farter and darter.

The Grass is not Always Greener

This weekend was the annual Tennis4you.com get together (this is my hub's ultra cool instructional tennis website ala tennis fanatic haven) and thanks to my Mom coming up and spending the night, I got to go! We decided to take Lilly with us though, as keeping up with Z's shenanigans would prove hard enough. Abby's the most fun one, so she stayed with Gramma as well and watched The Spiderwick Chronicles and Hannah Montana 3D with her.

Anyway, the hosts of the get together were a really sweet couple, Christy and Greg, with their really sweet daughter, Ella. Their house is amazing and decorated just so...well, quite like I would do it if I had the space, money and creativity. I'm not judging here...everything in their house, from the food to the furniture to the clothes to the toys, is top shelf. Clearly they are well off financially...and I'm totally happy for them. My point in bringing this up is that it made that mostly dead part of my heart wake up. That part of me that still desires to have a career and be fruitful in the workplace and bring home the bacon.

It's ironic to me now that I'd even be sitting here wishing for it at all. Four years ago I was the happiest woman alive knowing that I could stop working full-time and be home with my baby girl. It was a dream come true. It was two years of prayers and tears come to life, handed to me on a merciful platter. Four years ago I would have laughed out loud in your face, really rudely so you'd get the full gist that I didn't believe you when you said "you'll miss the working world and find that staying home with children is harder." I promised God that I'd start Bible studies here in my neighborhood and witness to all the moms if He'd JUST give me this one thing. And while I have been a witness/spiritual friend/study leader in my four years...I wouldn't say I've made a big dent in my neighborhood at-home mother population. Four years ago, I never thought I'd long for the routine of the office, the barking orders of bottom line seeking superiors, the stressful meetings, the deadlines, the reports, the pantyhose, the public restrooms (well, I don't miss that at all!), the traffic jams or the interoffice gossip/relationships. And for the most part, I've really let that desired part of my heart die...until I meet another mother who's having her cake and eating it too. Then I start wondering "what if." Oh that "What If Monster!" What if I'd stuck with the job I was in and progressed in the position? What kind of salary would I have by now? How much more knowledge would I have? How much more money would we have in the bank? How much fun it is to get all dressed up in the clothes, make up and feel part of something bigger than yourself!

But then I look at my children and know how important THIS job is. I feel glad that if either of them are sick they can sleep in their own bed and be comforted by their mother instead of a daycare provider. I'm here for them day or night to kiss boo-boos, comfort their sad hearts, laugh with them, teach them the way of the world and our family values, enjoy life on their level painting, coloring, playing with Play-doh. I get to see all the milestones, the VERY firsts... and not just the one that's "first" for me when the babysitter got to see the real one.

I'm not passing judgement on any other moms who have to work either. We're just one hardship away from that very thing, so I understand what a priviledge this position is. We do what we have to do to take care of our children/families. I'm just saying there are definite perks and blessings to being an full time at-home mother.

Once when I was bemoaning my position here at the house and wondering aloud to my mother should I go back to work she said very profoundly, "Christy, you're gonna second guess yourself no matter which decision you make. The question is not should you go back to work. The question is what is the best thing for your children in the situation you are in." Well said, Mom! So clearly, for our family, the best thing for our children is for me to be home with them. *sigh* I just wish that other green eyed monster side of me would die, die, die. I don't want to feel torn about it anymore...it's been four years! I want to just relax into this position and be thankful and joyful in it.

I guess this journey of full-time motherhood is really a metamorphosis and not just a simple decision. God is changing me and it's taking a lot more time than I thought. Maybe because I keep fighting it so much? Lesson for today...do not compare myself to other mothers (at home or not) and be fully present in my own home. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load (Galatians 6:4-5). God, purify my heart and bring my mothering heart to the surface so that I can let go of old notions of what I should be. Constantly remind me how important my job here is and let me see the fruits of my labor. Bind the enemy from me. Keep the lies from my ears and surely from taking root in my heart. Amen.

What's For Dinner?

Not Okra! Not Beets either! They are both still sitting in my veggie bin mocking me. Taunting me with their earthiness and daring me to try something new. *gag* I just can't get past my old memories of those two. Internet friends, meet Slimy, Stinky Okra and Juicy, Bitter Beet. I don't like them but they are here for awhile until I can either pawn them off on someone, figure out a recipe to try or they rot and I get to throw them away. I can't in "good conscience" pitch them in their healthy form.

So we're ending up with Jack's Pizza, Chicken Nuggets and cheesy potatoes. Not bad tasting, but totally bad in the carbs. Not what one would hope for in a Sunday dinner.

Doesn't help much either that I feel like a hepher and can't stop the milkshake habit. Scott and I both are total chocolate chip junkies. We crave them. Ooooh...the sweet, sweet love of a chocolate chip milkshake. We SO look forward to our smooth, creamy, cold, milky milkshake at the end of a hard day. The cherry on top of it is when we get to have the milkshake AND "So You Think You Can Dance"at the same time. We're addicted to both actually and are already worrying about what we'll replace the show with when a winner is crowned. Our money is on Katee or Twitch.

Totally loved BOTH of them in this routine. Mia Michaels has my props too!

Do dogs understand your feelings?

Isn't it amazing how sometimes it seems that dogs completely understand what you are saying or feeling? They obviously can read body language and tone of voice, but then there's that sense that they "feel" what's going on too. Ever heard someone say that children and dogs have the ability to see and feel spiritual activity? I think there may be some truth to that. Sometimes when Tyson gets to staring at the wall or out the window and does that low, barely there growl...the hairs on my neck stand up and I feel like calling my Mommy.

Last night I was having a quiet little mental breakdown (the usual kid drama) and Tyson come from a completely different room, sat down right next to me and stared at me as if to say "Awe...it's okay. Don't cry, Mommy Pet me and you'll feel better Here, I'll shove my wet nose under your hand to get you started." How sweet is this guy, right?

And then there are other dogs, like our crypt keeper Max, who obsessively licks his paws until they are raw, lives under the couch and has a complete internal meltdown if a prism of light flashes anywhere in the house.

Just makes me wonder what all they really comprehend around here.

Veggie Tuesday

Now we're getting into unfamiliar vegetation! We've got BEETS and OKRA and I think these are Banana Peppers. I have no idea how to cook these guys and I know I've had okra before as a kid and hated it. All I can remember is slimy green stuff. So - I'm game for trying but I'm not promising that I won't revert back to a seven year old and turn my nose up the whole time.

The corn is twice the size it was last week also. No more lettuce or beans though, so that's a bit of a bummer. Well, the lettuce part is. We got a little tired of the beans. I LOVE fresh green beans, but Scott only ate them as a courtesy to me and to get the kids to try them. They weren't fans though.

So this week we received: A small head of cabbage, nine ears of corn, four banana peppers, five okra, four beets, eight or nine brown potatoes, two zuchs and one squash. Oh, and an onion. :)

Yum!

Mess of the Day

Every single day I either wake up to a mess or find one throughout the day, sometimes multiple messes. Yesterday Zach was having some sort of personal melt down, threw a train and put a dent in the wall. He was just angry with the tracks not going together properly and so he started thrashing the whole set apart and tossing trains either way. We're still working on pinpointing feelings and appropriate venting.

Today he hasn't quite been himself...more quiet and cuddley and laying around. Is he sick? Not sure. He asked to wash his hands so I let him in the bathroom figuring that he'd run the water too long or pump too much soap, but that I could handle that. I kept saying "Come on, Zach. We gotta get your shorts back on." When he didn't answer the third time I went looking and there he was...covered in Bare Minerals Blush, as was the sink. I didn't know whether to scream at the loss of the make up or laugh at my son wearing more blush than Tammy Faye Baker. I counted the loss of make up as a lesson learned for myself b/c I know better than to leave my make up bag out, wiped my blush off of my son all the while explaining that "boys don't wear make up...only girls." Someday he'll realize otherwise and had better never come home with eyeliner or his Dad will kick his toosh.

All in all, this mess was containable and not damaging at all, so no fireworks yet today. The day's not over yet though.