What do you do on a Saturday that has no activities on the calendar? And, you are tired from a long work week that started after a three-day weekend in Nashville with friends?
You don't go to the grocery store.
Nah, you order from home and then pick up at a scheduled time. I feel as if I've written about this before because I talk about it all the time. It is amazing. It is life changing. It is the sweet precious miracle for which I have prayed.
I. Do. Not. Have. To. Go. To. HEB. Ever. Again.
(And, it is free the first four times.)
(Yes, you save money and you don't have to pay for the service. You also don't tip.)
(And, the app holds on to your previous orders so you don't have to make a list.)
(Savings all around.)
Curbside To You is one of the greatest inventions I've ever experienced. Adding in that you can buy sliced bread (you know the greatest thing since kind of statement) from it makes it even more a gift.
OK, so we went to Trader Joe's anyway. I needed wine and we needed some Trader Joe-only things such as sparkling lime water, personal cheese pizzas, almond milk and yogurt. That doesn't add up to $50 but somehow other things made their way into my child-sized cart. Caroline helped me shop, while Camille stayed at home. That meant, Caroline had a nice 'example' snack while I sampled a couple of wines. Nice Saturday.
That all came to a halt when we got home and G announced, 'Baylor is on TV.' When I asked the score, he replied 'tied up' at halftime.
And, because I cannot keep my eyes off a potential train wreck, I had to watch the game. Why oh why did I do that?
I know. I'm forever hopeful that this is our year. I'm forever a believer that we will win or continue winning during a season. I'm forever the one who has Baylor winning it all.
As a result, I'm forever crushed.
We were winning and then I started to watch. Then, we started to lose. Then, we turned it over a few times at critical times. Then, we couldn't get a rebound. Then, we lost.
Even with a late run, I knew it was not going to turn out as I hoped. This team. What would it be like to be a fan of a consistent team -- one that wins consistently, not one that consistently wreaks havoc on your heart and soul.
It's time again to buy football season tickets so I looked at the 2017 schedule and thought to myself, there are quite a few games we can make. We can even maybe spend a weekend or two in Waco instead of just driving up and back on game day. And, we play some big games at home so we have that home field advantage. We have a great new coach and recruited well. (I didn't look closely at the ticket prices. I'm assuming they are staying the same).
Look at that hope reaching up. Feel that surge of positivity. Every year. Every season. I'm forever hopeful that this is our year. I'm forever a believer that we will win or continue winning during a season. I'm forever the one who has Baylor winning it all.
Where did I just write that or read that? Oh, yeah, a few paragraphs above. I followed it with something terribly pessimistic. I won't write that yet because the football season is just dates on a piece of pretty green and gold paper . . .
Ah, Curbside to You is calling. That's a place to put your hopes and dreams. That's something to believe in.
That's some kind of fourth part gift.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Thursday, February 9, 2017
Lasagna and Running on Empty
Some fourth parts require a lot of effort. Not just planning or organizing, but true effort. I'm talking rent a car, drive five hours, work for four hours and then drive another two hours kind of effort.
Tonight's fourth part was simple on paper. I wanted to make a lasagna for my son and his roommate. Not one to freeze and ship from San Antonio to Lubbock. But make one in Lubbock in my son's apartment with ingredients purchased from the Wal Mart in town.
That took effort. And, man, was it worth it.
I've never been a road-trip kind of gal. I think growing up, we drove to Pennsylvania once or twice and would make road trips as far north as Dallas or Texarkana and south to the beach or Laredo. We didn't do the cross country trips. I can only imagine it had more to do with my sisters and I drawing lines between us in the back seat and being a bit much than it did my parents' desire to take us places.
Now, we fly places. We've driven to Memphis and all over the state of Texas, but never packed up the car and let's say, head to California. I have a sister and brother in law who've done that all over the U.S. to watch major league baseball games. They've driven from San Antonio to Toronto. Y'all, that's Canada.
I envy those road trippers imagining great stops at roadside attractions and Dairy Queens. Then, I think the reality is Whataburger scents for days and a lot of crankiness.
Recently, we've taken a few trips to Lubbock to register Chris and to move him into his apartment. That's a six-hour drive. It's easy because the roads are great and not much traffic. But it's looooong.
So, when Chris needed golf clubs and a co-worker willingly offered up a set from her husband, I said, 'let's throw them in a car and I'll drive them to him.'
Conveniently, I've been spending time in Midland for work and that's only a hop skip and a jump from Lubbock. Let's be clear, Midland is still a good distance from San Antonio. Like right under five hours of distance. But, no worries, I'll rent a car, schedule meetings to start at 1 p.m. and then after working, head up to the land of Red Raiders.
Car rental, check. Loading up the rental, no sweat. Leaving and getting on the road, problem free.
It was so breezy and easy and lemon squeezy. I listened and laughed to a favorite podcast along the way.
Then, I noticed . . . low fuel. 36 miles left. What? How? I thought this rental got great gas mileage. I never even thought about needing to stop and pump along the journey. Plus, the low fuel indicator didn't bother me. I was in oil country. Pumps everywhere. Trucks hauling big containers of fluid that contribute to the creation of gasoline.
No gas station anywhere. Aahh, but an intersection of two highways that was 35 miles away would provide that fuel and I'd be on my way. Yeah, no. Not in this neck of the woods.
I ran out of gas at the corner of 137 and 158. Translation 'middle of nowhere.'
When a truck driver pulled by me and he kindly rolled down his window asking me what's wrong, I said I needed gas and he said, 'well, all I've got is diesel.' Ugh.
Triple A to the rescue with the words from the dispatcher sounding something like 'it will be almost an hour before someone gets the gas to you.' Ugh, again.
There is work to be done and golf clubs to be delivered. This is not going according to plan.
I did not call my husband as he would have worried and lost his mind with me. (I'm good at getting really low on gas and maybe, even running out.)
I waited. Put on my makeup. Listened to the podcast.
Then came William Starnes. My angel. He was in flip flops and a road hard kind of shirt that had been hung out to dry. He was not with Triple A but had a container of gas in the back of his pick up that he willingly funneled into my tank . . . without a request or expectation of payment. He didn't even want to give me his full name or address.
I got the contact information out of him because, well, I need to properly thank him with a note and a gift card. I was raised right.
I cancelled the Triple A help and went on my way. Had my meetings -- where co-workers enjoyed the story -- and then gassed up to get on the road to Lubbock. Yes, I filled up the car (which was only 13 gallons -- that should be indication of the tank size and how it could not make the journey to Midland -- but how would I know that!?!).
And, at 6 p.m., my fourth part really began. It started with a hug and a smile from my son. We progressed to shop for groceries and then I even did laundry. Tonight, these were fourth part activities. Remember, a fourth part is the time I have for me to do what I want and what refuels me. Seeing that boy and walking the aisles of Wal Mart buoyed my spirits. I even bravely decided to tell G about the running out of gas moment (with Chris standing by me).
As Chris and his roommate watched a basketball game, I made lasagna and put fresh sheets on his bed. I even cleaned a bit.
Before I got back on the road to Midland because I've work tomorrow and a hotel bed calling my name, I got another hug. Another thank you. Another smile. Another re-fueling moment.
I didn't get to eat the lasagna but it wasn't for me. I wasn't running on empty anymore because seeing him filled me up.
Yeah, I stopped to get gas before leaving Lubbock, but I probably could have made it back to Midland on the fuel I got from being with him.
Tonight's fourth part was simple on paper. I wanted to make a lasagna for my son and his roommate. Not one to freeze and ship from San Antonio to Lubbock. But make one in Lubbock in my son's apartment with ingredients purchased from the Wal Mart in town.
That took effort. And, man, was it worth it.
I've never been a road-trip kind of gal. I think growing up, we drove to Pennsylvania once or twice and would make road trips as far north as Dallas or Texarkana and south to the beach or Laredo. We didn't do the cross country trips. I can only imagine it had more to do with my sisters and I drawing lines between us in the back seat and being a bit much than it did my parents' desire to take us places.
Now, we fly places. We've driven to Memphis and all over the state of Texas, but never packed up the car and let's say, head to California. I have a sister and brother in law who've done that all over the U.S. to watch major league baseball games. They've driven from San Antonio to Toronto. Y'all, that's Canada.
I envy those road trippers imagining great stops at roadside attractions and Dairy Queens. Then, I think the reality is Whataburger scents for days and a lot of crankiness.
Recently, we've taken a few trips to Lubbock to register Chris and to move him into his apartment. That's a six-hour drive. It's easy because the roads are great and not much traffic. But it's looooong.
So, when Chris needed golf clubs and a co-worker willingly offered up a set from her husband, I said, 'let's throw them in a car and I'll drive them to him.'
Conveniently, I've been spending time in Midland for work and that's only a hop skip and a jump from Lubbock. Let's be clear, Midland is still a good distance from San Antonio. Like right under five hours of distance. But, no worries, I'll rent a car, schedule meetings to start at 1 p.m. and then after working, head up to the land of Red Raiders.
Car rental, check. Loading up the rental, no sweat. Leaving and getting on the road, problem free.
It was so breezy and easy and lemon squeezy. I listened and laughed to a favorite podcast along the way.
Then, I noticed . . . low fuel. 36 miles left. What? How? I thought this rental got great gas mileage. I never even thought about needing to stop and pump along the journey. Plus, the low fuel indicator didn't bother me. I was in oil country. Pumps everywhere. Trucks hauling big containers of fluid that contribute to the creation of gasoline.
No gas station anywhere. Aahh, but an intersection of two highways that was 35 miles away would provide that fuel and I'd be on my way. Yeah, no. Not in this neck of the woods.
I ran out of gas at the corner of 137 and 158. Translation 'middle of nowhere.'
When a truck driver pulled by me and he kindly rolled down his window asking me what's wrong, I said I needed gas and he said, 'well, all I've got is diesel.' Ugh.
Triple A to the rescue with the words from the dispatcher sounding something like 'it will be almost an hour before someone gets the gas to you.' Ugh, again.
There is work to be done and golf clubs to be delivered. This is not going according to plan.
I did not call my husband as he would have worried and lost his mind with me. (I'm good at getting really low on gas and maybe, even running out.)
I waited. Put on my makeup. Listened to the podcast.
Then came William Starnes. My angel. He was in flip flops and a road hard kind of shirt that had been hung out to dry. He was not with Triple A but had a container of gas in the back of his pick up that he willingly funneled into my tank . . . without a request or expectation of payment. He didn't even want to give me his full name or address.
I got the contact information out of him because, well, I need to properly thank him with a note and a gift card. I was raised right.
I cancelled the Triple A help and went on my way. Had my meetings -- where co-workers enjoyed the story -- and then gassed up to get on the road to Lubbock. Yes, I filled up the car (which was only 13 gallons -- that should be indication of the tank size and how it could not make the journey to Midland -- but how would I know that!?!).
And, at 6 p.m., my fourth part really began. It started with a hug and a smile from my son. We progressed to shop for groceries and then I even did laundry. Tonight, these were fourth part activities. Remember, a fourth part is the time I have for me to do what I want and what refuels me. Seeing that boy and walking the aisles of Wal Mart buoyed my spirits. I even bravely decided to tell G about the running out of gas moment (with Chris standing by me).
As Chris and his roommate watched a basketball game, I made lasagna and put fresh sheets on his bed. I even cleaned a bit.
Before I got back on the road to Midland because I've work tomorrow and a hotel bed calling my name, I got another hug. Another thank you. Another smile. Another re-fueling moment.
I didn't get to eat the lasagna but it wasn't for me. I wasn't running on empty anymore because seeing him filled me up.
Yeah, I stopped to get gas before leaving Lubbock, but I probably could have made it back to Midland on the fuel I got from being with him.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Valentine's Day Boxes and Cleaning Bathrooms
An activity-free Saturday. Nothing on the calendar. No events. No parties. No games.
It's potentially a fourth part all day.
(I mean we have laundry and grocery shopping and feeding children. And, making beds. You know, the life stuff.)
Oh, but wait.
G headed out early for a high school coaches meeting. (The most exciting part was he heard my new Baylor football coach speak. I asked if he took a picture, shook his hand, introduced himself, mentioned I'm a Baylor alum, told him we are season ticket holders, said we love Baylor football. Can you picture the glance I received?)
I have to clean the bathrooms. As part of a cost-cutting measure, we no longer have our housekeeper. First-world problem, I know. But still. Oh, and when I write 'clean the bathrooms,' I mean pulling out some Clorox wipes and going at it with vigor.
We have to negotiate our Sirius and Time Warner, now Spectrum (I mean how many times do we need to see that commercial) bills. I still remain a bit confused that all of these bills are negotiable. It's like buying a car. I mean, if you pause long enough, say you are going to cancel, tell them you are switching providers -- they start knocking off dollars. Why. Don't. We. Start. There.
And, this is the real event, we need to make Valentine's Day card boxes. Two of them. Boxes for the cards they receive from their classroom friends. Boxes. Decorated. Pinterest-like activity. The already-turned-in boxes (they aren't due until February 10 people) are as grand as a box decorated with the Marvel superheroes and an elephant with a 3D trunk.
Pause.
Where are the days gone by of brown paper bags with a red paper heart and a few marker-drawn hearts? Or a red wrapping paper wrapped box with a doily heart?
Nope. Not this year.
Count my sleeping past 9 a.m. as my fourth part because we moved full on into box decorating and bill negotiating before noon.
Box number one was designed by my traditionalist with pink tissue paper and hearts. The flourish is a six, 'count them again mom,' six pipe cleaners with paper hearts attached flying out of two very large paper hearts glued on to the ends of the box. Done.
Box number two was made by my artist. No simple hearts and pipe cleaners here. She chose an under the sea theme which requires cut out fish, seaweed and a hand-drawn, will be cut out later, mermaid. This box is wrapped in sparkly seafoam green tissue paper that we had on hand. And, my little sweet creative found the one piece of green construction paper from which we (yeah, I helped) cut out three little fish and the seaweed. She carefully drew fins and eyes, which were hearts (remember, it is a Valentine's Day card box), on the fish. Almost done.
The bathrooms are calling to be cleaned and that feels like something I would rather be doing and then my artist says . . .
'I love these kind of mornings.'
Pause.
The bathrooms can wait.
My girls shared scissors and glue sticks. It was nice and peaceful. And, we've got some boxes mostly complete.
'This is what I like as a family.'
Pause.
The girls willingly cleaned up their work area and changed into play clothes.
When I asked for a few uninterrupted moments to take care of the bill paying and negotiating, I received a 'yes m'am' in two little precious voices.
Pause.
I love these kind of Saturday mornings. This is what I like as a fourth part.
It's potentially a fourth part all day.
(I mean we have laundry and grocery shopping and feeding children. And, making beds. You know, the life stuff.)
Oh, but wait.
G headed out early for a high school coaches meeting. (The most exciting part was he heard my new Baylor football coach speak. I asked if he took a picture, shook his hand, introduced himself, mentioned I'm a Baylor alum, told him we are season ticket holders, said we love Baylor football. Can you picture the glance I received?)
I have to clean the bathrooms. As part of a cost-cutting measure, we no longer have our housekeeper. First-world problem, I know. But still. Oh, and when I write 'clean the bathrooms,' I mean pulling out some Clorox wipes and going at it with vigor.
We have to negotiate our Sirius and Time Warner, now Spectrum (I mean how many times do we need to see that commercial) bills. I still remain a bit confused that all of these bills are negotiable. It's like buying a car. I mean, if you pause long enough, say you are going to cancel, tell them you are switching providers -- they start knocking off dollars. Why. Don't. We. Start. There.
And, this is the real event, we need to make Valentine's Day card boxes. Two of them. Boxes for the cards they receive from their classroom friends. Boxes. Decorated. Pinterest-like activity. The already-turned-in boxes (they aren't due until February 10 people) are as grand as a box decorated with the Marvel superheroes and an elephant with a 3D trunk.
Pause.
Where are the days gone by of brown paper bags with a red paper heart and a few marker-drawn hearts? Or a red wrapping paper wrapped box with a doily heart?
Nope. Not this year.
Count my sleeping past 9 a.m. as my fourth part because we moved full on into box decorating and bill negotiating before noon.
Box number one was designed by my traditionalist with pink tissue paper and hearts. The flourish is a six, 'count them again mom,' six pipe cleaners with paper hearts attached flying out of two very large paper hearts glued on to the ends of the box. Done.
Box number two was made by my artist. No simple hearts and pipe cleaners here. She chose an under the sea theme which requires cut out fish, seaweed and a hand-drawn, will be cut out later, mermaid. This box is wrapped in sparkly seafoam green tissue paper that we had on hand. And, my little sweet creative found the one piece of green construction paper from which we (yeah, I helped) cut out three little fish and the seaweed. She carefully drew fins and eyes, which were hearts (remember, it is a Valentine's Day card box), on the fish. Almost done.
The bathrooms are calling to be cleaned and that feels like something I would rather be doing and then my artist says . . .
'I love these kind of mornings.'
Pause.
The bathrooms can wait.
My girls shared scissors and glue sticks. It was nice and peaceful. And, we've got some boxes mostly complete.
'This is what I like as a family.'
Pause.
The girls willingly cleaned up their work area and changed into play clothes.
When I asked for a few uninterrupted moments to take care of the bill paying and negotiating, I received a 'yes m'am' in two little precious voices.
Pause.
I love these kind of Saturday mornings. This is what I like as a fourth part.
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Worries and Kid-ding
There is just too much good TV on these days. Last Thursday a crisis presented in the Adams' house. Scandal premièred. Top Chef was on (it's in Charleston -- pimento cheese heaven). Nashville has snuck it's way back into my life (dang CMT -- let Tami Taylor get back to Texas). And, the New Edition Story was either a part one, two or three on BET. Yeah, I love New Edition. I go way back with Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike . . .( a few beats) and Ralph. If I love a band, who cares who you like. I mean, that was some music. Bell Biv Devoe, Ralph and his Sensitivity, Bobby and his Prerogative plus Johnny Gill, my, my, my, my . . you sure look good tonight.
OK, all this to say, decisions had to be made as to what TV was watched and recorded. Our DVR records two shows at a time so one TV was occupied with my recordings. The bedroom TV had Scandal and G watched, nothing. I imagine there was basketball or something on, but priorities. Do not cancel a recording was my plea from the bedroom.
The TV-watching dilemma was a worry. Temporary, but albeit a worry. Minor, sure, but still a concern of recording and watching and then deciding when to watch the recording. I mean, loads of fourth part planning took place in a matter of minutes when I recognized the overlap and bumper car-like bumping into each other television programming.
If only that was my only worry. And, really, someone greater than I tells me to cast all my anxieties on Him. Sure, how was He going to handle the TV viewing? Ridiculous example, but go with me here.
We trust God to provide. We trust God to deliver us from bad and sad situations. We trust God to comfort us. We trust that we do have eternal life if we believe that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose again. Easy trusting stuff. No need to worry.
(Please, tonight, I was worrying about the providing when I thought about the transfers to Chris' account to pay for electricity and the power deposit and a calculator -- that's a good thing, studying!).
So we trust. And, typically, we fall into the trust when things are falling apart. The wheels coming off kind of thing. That's the time we cry out, we scream out (in my case), we head to the Bible and we wear our knees out praying. That's the time when every bit of scripture and every single line in a devotion point toward our need to depend on Him.
We cast those worries so far and fast as if we were trying to get the big one out of the ocean. I mean I've no problem in the casting and trusting department during those times.
So, lately, those times have been way too frequent. I feel like we are just at the end of the account most every day. Can a balance sit on $28 for a few days? Yes, it can. Can the weekly HEB bill be $50? Yes, it can.
I mean, I'm a trusting gal in the trying situations. I prayed that God would get us through the last period until G's payday and He did. We watched our expenses like a hawk and had everything taken care of -- then we got paid and well, oh, yeah, I have a child in college who has rent to be paid, electricity to be left on (requires payment) and a daughter in gymnastics and another who rides horses. And, and, and.
Worries sneaking in now. Fourth parts are obsessing over bills and expenses to make sure everything is covered. I mean I know the budget is there and we can pay this, but still. Worry. What ifs? How abouts? Anxieties! Worries! Forget those lilies of the field and the birds who don't worry about what they wear . . . .I'm in full panic mode worry.
Deep breath. Pause.
Jesus Calling provided a gift this week. The words were along the lines of worries can become idols. Uh, what? Let's re-read that sentence. I mean it had only a few words but contained a noun, verb and all the right parts. A worry can become an idol.
I've been worrying a lot lately.
Not only about money and how it is working now that we have expenses that are shifting our budget a bit (a bit, ha, a lot! If Kate Spade sends me a sale email, I'll lose it. I've nothing in the budget for that my friend, Kate.).
I've also been worried about all that is going on in our government. Most of you know how I vote and where I stand. My Facebook feed has been all about what to do -- petitions to sign, letters to write, protests and marches in which to participate. I committed to my country (wow, I'm a real patriot) to do something everyday. To let my voice be heard. To represent that which I believe. And, well, I've been worrying. Loads of anxiety. I talk about it. I think about it. I post about it. I write about it (ask my Senators!). And, I take sleep aids to stop talking, thinking and writing about it.
I've got an idol before me.
Today was a day where worrying about the evening and all that needed to be taken care of became something almost out of control. Announcements of SCOTUS nominations and Secretary appointments threw me into a loop of anxiety. Then, there's the home life stuff. Between unloading the dishwasher, putting together tomorrow's lunches and getting in a quick shower for the girls, I started ripping into the mail. Two things that require attention. A few bills. Potential worries, right? Yep.
Deep breath. Pause.
God sent something in that moment. My mom subscribes the girls to a faith-based magazine and the newest issue was in the stack of worry and anxiety. In the middle of making a copy of my license to mail back a request to un-dormant a long-lost bank account and stacking up forms to take care of Chris' jury exemption, Caroline read a joke to me from her magazine about what cows take to work. A beef-case. Then, Camille started reading through her jokes from the magazine. 'What does the volcano say to the water. I lava you.' 'What kind of chocolate do horses like on Valentine's Day. Horse-y kisses.'
Talk about breaking the worry ice.
The expenses still exist and lunches need to be packed. Occasionally, my girls need showers. Oh, and dinner needs to get on the table. But, really, worrying doesn't help. It just makes the things bigger and I need them to be the size they are -- sizes I can take care of and handle.
With God's help, right? Need to trust Him right now. Knock down that idol of worry and focus on worship and praise and mercy and grace. He's got a sufficient amount for me. And, tomorrow morning, His compassion is there. It never fails.
Not kidding.
OK, all this to say, decisions had to be made as to what TV was watched and recorded. Our DVR records two shows at a time so one TV was occupied with my recordings. The bedroom TV had Scandal and G watched, nothing. I imagine there was basketball or something on, but priorities. Do not cancel a recording was my plea from the bedroom.
The TV-watching dilemma was a worry. Temporary, but albeit a worry. Minor, sure, but still a concern of recording and watching and then deciding when to watch the recording. I mean, loads of fourth part planning took place in a matter of minutes when I recognized the overlap and bumper car-like bumping into each other television programming.
If only that was my only worry. And, really, someone greater than I tells me to cast all my anxieties on Him. Sure, how was He going to handle the TV viewing? Ridiculous example, but go with me here.
We trust God to provide. We trust God to deliver us from bad and sad situations. We trust God to comfort us. We trust that we do have eternal life if we believe that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose again. Easy trusting stuff. No need to worry.
(Please, tonight, I was worrying about the providing when I thought about the transfers to Chris' account to pay for electricity and the power deposit and a calculator -- that's a good thing, studying!).
So we trust. And, typically, we fall into the trust when things are falling apart. The wheels coming off kind of thing. That's the time we cry out, we scream out (in my case), we head to the Bible and we wear our knees out praying. That's the time when every bit of scripture and every single line in a devotion point toward our need to depend on Him.
We cast those worries so far and fast as if we were trying to get the big one out of the ocean. I mean I've no problem in the casting and trusting department during those times.
So, lately, those times have been way too frequent. I feel like we are just at the end of the account most every day. Can a balance sit on $28 for a few days? Yes, it can. Can the weekly HEB bill be $50? Yes, it can.
I mean, I'm a trusting gal in the trying situations. I prayed that God would get us through the last period until G's payday and He did. We watched our expenses like a hawk and had everything taken care of -- then we got paid and well, oh, yeah, I have a child in college who has rent to be paid, electricity to be left on (requires payment) and a daughter in gymnastics and another who rides horses. And, and, and.
Worries sneaking in now. Fourth parts are obsessing over bills and expenses to make sure everything is covered. I mean I know the budget is there and we can pay this, but still. Worry. What ifs? How abouts? Anxieties! Worries! Forget those lilies of the field and the birds who don't worry about what they wear . . . .I'm in full panic mode worry.
Deep breath. Pause.
Jesus Calling provided a gift this week. The words were along the lines of worries can become idols. Uh, what? Let's re-read that sentence. I mean it had only a few words but contained a noun, verb and all the right parts. A worry can become an idol.
I've been worrying a lot lately.
Not only about money and how it is working now that we have expenses that are shifting our budget a bit (a bit, ha, a lot! If Kate Spade sends me a sale email, I'll lose it. I've nothing in the budget for that my friend, Kate.).
I've also been worried about all that is going on in our government. Most of you know how I vote and where I stand. My Facebook feed has been all about what to do -- petitions to sign, letters to write, protests and marches in which to participate. I committed to my country (wow, I'm a real patriot) to do something everyday. To let my voice be heard. To represent that which I believe. And, well, I've been worrying. Loads of anxiety. I talk about it. I think about it. I post about it. I write about it (ask my Senators!). And, I take sleep aids to stop talking, thinking and writing about it.
I've got an idol before me.
Today was a day where worrying about the evening and all that needed to be taken care of became something almost out of control. Announcements of SCOTUS nominations and Secretary appointments threw me into a loop of anxiety. Then, there's the home life stuff. Between unloading the dishwasher, putting together tomorrow's lunches and getting in a quick shower for the girls, I started ripping into the mail. Two things that require attention. A few bills. Potential worries, right? Yep.
Deep breath. Pause.
God sent something in that moment. My mom subscribes the girls to a faith-based magazine and the newest issue was in the stack of worry and anxiety. In the middle of making a copy of my license to mail back a request to un-dormant a long-lost bank account and stacking up forms to take care of Chris' jury exemption, Caroline read a joke to me from her magazine about what cows take to work. A beef-case. Then, Camille started reading through her jokes from the magazine. 'What does the volcano say to the water. I lava you.' 'What kind of chocolate do horses like on Valentine's Day. Horse-y kisses.'
Talk about breaking the worry ice.
The expenses still exist and lunches need to be packed. Occasionally, my girls need showers. Oh, and dinner needs to get on the table. But, really, worrying doesn't help. It just makes the things bigger and I need them to be the size they are -- sizes I can take care of and handle.
With God's help, right? Need to trust Him right now. Knock down that idol of worry and focus on worship and praise and mercy and grace. He's got a sufficient amount for me. And, tomorrow morning, His compassion is there. It never fails.
Not kidding.
Monday, January 2, 2017
LPL and Fans
Today is a federal holiday. No school for the girls, no work for me. And, yet, our house is humming with activity.
Today was going to be all fourth part. I was going to write. I was going to go through pictures. I was going to run a couple of errands all about me. I was going to watch something on either Netflix or Amazon Prime Video or just good ol' cable TV. Again, all about me. My fourth part.
Guess who the joke is on? That's right, moi. (We have a family resolution -- OK, the girls and I -- to learn French). Oui, moi. (Those don't rhyme even though they appear to. Since I have a real grasp on French -- because I am French -- I know those two don't rhyme. But, please don't ask me to translate these sentences. Don't know that much. Non, I don't! I've a long way to go.)
So far today, and it isn't even lunch, I've taken Caroline to pick up an American Girl car we bought off a Facebook trading site (she used her Christmas money) and I've helped load up the attic with Christmas. I've answered countless questions on this, that and the other to include 'where is the breaker box' -- which I think was hypothetical because, really?! -- and 'am I taking this ironing board to school' -- seriously? We don't need it.
(I realize all the sentences above are horribly structured and my English, Journalism and Editing professors would have a fit, but I think they accurately represent the state of my non-existent fourth part and my brain).
I also set up my son's electricity account for his apartment. It's LPL, Lubbock Power and Light. Boy, I need some power and light right now, but not for $135. Yeah, that's the connection fee. I think I read we can get it waived if we prove we've been clients at another power company and been in good standing. Does 20 years count? Oh, but detail, the new account is in his name. Maybe we can make this work.
I also am reviewing, writing and assigning the items needed for an apartment with Chris' roommate's mom. She's great. A list maker like me and on top of it.
I also am hunting for a mattress. Trying to find the best deal of a mattress that comes all boxed up and can be unfolded upon apartment arrival or one that can be delivered to the new apartment next week at move in.
I also am coordinating the family schedule for the next two days. With the girls out of school until Thursday, G having basketball and football practice and Chris working, it's interesting how we figure out who is on first -- more importantly, who is at the house to watch the girls and transport them to activities. An aside, I can lay this schedule out, talk about it, write it down in 14 different places and there will still be questions. Power and light, please. Power and light.
Maybe that LPL should read Lots of Patience, Lady. Or Lots of Peace, Lady. Or Lots of Prayer, Lady. Or Let's Pretend Like (fill in the blank).
All that and hold on, wait. The guy is here installing fans outside. It's January, but this is a task that must be done now. I mean fans? Now? Winter?
Yeah, it's about 80 degrees here so I guess we need fans for when we sit outside enjoying cocktails and a fourth part. When? Let's Pretend Like (it's happening now).
These fans are an example of things I wish I could control but really can't. I have no answers to the questions -- breaker box or how low they should hang -- but I get asked. I know it is out of courtesy and kindness from my husband, but really, I don't know and I don't care. OK, I guess I do because Let's Pretend Like (I'm not a control freak).
I guess on day number two of this 2017, I'm plain out of room for questions because I really don't have the answers. I can make things up, but with the form filling out for so many things for Chris and the lists that require searching and hunting, I just can't answer questions about breaker boxes. Let's Pretend Like (I'm needing a fourth part day).
Remember I was going to be fixing this year. First, fixing my eyes on that which is greater than I. Second, fixing tangible items. Third, fixing stuff that can't be seen.
And, so far, I've added to the list, not subtracted. I had no idea we had so much to fix. The fans? The forms? The lists?
Let's Pretend Like (fixing is a one-time thing).
Let's Pretend Like (I know it all).
Let's Pretend Like (a federal holiday is a holiday).
Lots of Patience, Lady. Lots of Peace, Lady. Lots of Prayer, Lady.
And, a couple of new fans that I can control with a wireless remote that give us Power and Light.
Today was going to be all fourth part. I was going to write. I was going to go through pictures. I was going to run a couple of errands all about me. I was going to watch something on either Netflix or Amazon Prime Video or just good ol' cable TV. Again, all about me. My fourth part.
Guess who the joke is on? That's right, moi. (We have a family resolution -- OK, the girls and I -- to learn French). Oui, moi. (Those don't rhyme even though they appear to. Since I have a real grasp on French -- because I am French -- I know those two don't rhyme. But, please don't ask me to translate these sentences. Don't know that much. Non, I don't! I've a long way to go.)
So far today, and it isn't even lunch, I've taken Caroline to pick up an American Girl car we bought off a Facebook trading site (she used her Christmas money) and I've helped load up the attic with Christmas. I've answered countless questions on this, that and the other to include 'where is the breaker box' -- which I think was hypothetical because, really?! -- and 'am I taking this ironing board to school' -- seriously? We don't need it.
(I realize all the sentences above are horribly structured and my English, Journalism and Editing professors would have a fit, but I think they accurately represent the state of my non-existent fourth part and my brain).
I also set up my son's electricity account for his apartment. It's LPL, Lubbock Power and Light. Boy, I need some power and light right now, but not for $135. Yeah, that's the connection fee. I think I read we can get it waived if we prove we've been clients at another power company and been in good standing. Does 20 years count? Oh, but detail, the new account is in his name. Maybe we can make this work.
I also am reviewing, writing and assigning the items needed for an apartment with Chris' roommate's mom. She's great. A list maker like me and on top of it.
I also am hunting for a mattress. Trying to find the best deal of a mattress that comes all boxed up and can be unfolded upon apartment arrival or one that can be delivered to the new apartment next week at move in.
I also am coordinating the family schedule for the next two days. With the girls out of school until Thursday, G having basketball and football practice and Chris working, it's interesting how we figure out who is on first -- more importantly, who is at the house to watch the girls and transport them to activities. An aside, I can lay this schedule out, talk about it, write it down in 14 different places and there will still be questions. Power and light, please. Power and light.
Maybe that LPL should read Lots of Patience, Lady. Or Lots of Peace, Lady. Or Lots of Prayer, Lady. Or Let's Pretend Like (fill in the blank).
All that and hold on, wait. The guy is here installing fans outside. It's January, but this is a task that must be done now. I mean fans? Now? Winter?
Yeah, it's about 80 degrees here so I guess we need fans for when we sit outside enjoying cocktails and a fourth part. When? Let's Pretend Like (it's happening now).
These fans are an example of things I wish I could control but really can't. I have no answers to the questions -- breaker box or how low they should hang -- but I get asked. I know it is out of courtesy and kindness from my husband, but really, I don't know and I don't care. OK, I guess I do because Let's Pretend Like (I'm not a control freak).
I guess on day number two of this 2017, I'm plain out of room for questions because I really don't have the answers. I can make things up, but with the form filling out for so many things for Chris and the lists that require searching and hunting, I just can't answer questions about breaker boxes. Let's Pretend Like (I'm needing a fourth part day).
Remember I was going to be fixing this year. First, fixing my eyes on that which is greater than I. Second, fixing tangible items. Third, fixing stuff that can't be seen.
And, so far, I've added to the list, not subtracted. I had no idea we had so much to fix. The fans? The forms? The lists?
Let's Pretend Like (fixing is a one-time thing).
Let's Pretend Like (I know it all).
Let's Pretend Like (a federal holiday is a holiday).
Lots of Patience, Lady. Lots of Peace, Lady. Lots of Prayer, Lady.
And, a couple of new fans that I can control with a wireless remote that give us Power and Light.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Fixing and Bible Journaling
I received some clever Christmas gifts this year. Some were inspiring -- gym bag, workout pants and a French word-a-day calendar. Some were helpful -- a foam roller mat, jewelry organizer and magnetic note pads. Some were meaningfully (is that a word) unique -- a Texas Tech James Avery charm, Trader Joe's pomegranate body butter and Bloody Mary mix.
One was seemingly so simple, but perfectly suited for me -- a box of pale blue, Southern phrase pencils. Pencils with dark lead waiting to be sharpened. Phrases on point (like the pencils will soon be) such as just darling, goodness gracious and oh my stars. Straight from Nashville and Reese Witherspoon's store, Draper James, these pencils are waiting for big things in 2017. And, I can't wait to use them to write in this upcoming year.
It's a year of change for us. I've potentially a new role at work that I found out about the last work day of 2016. Chris moves to Lubbock for school. Camille starts on a gymnastics journey that isn't unusual, according to many, but new to us. Caroline aspires to run barrels (after she trots them, of course). G and I have big birthdays this year. (I can't write the number yet, but it is out there, staring me down, greeting me and waiting.)
It's also a year of fixing. In the past, our family has had a phrase or word for the new year and we apply it to the resolutions to which we aspire. This year, it's 'fixing.' No more putting off projects, moving broken things to the side or stacking up to dos. We've got screens to replace, ceilings to paint, clothes to be mended, necklaces to repair and laptops to clean. Lots of fixing that has been put off too many times, too many days, too many weeks . . . you get it. We've procrastinated and now 2017 is for fixing.
(I wonder if a Draper James pencil from sweet Reese would read fixin' to?)
(Not only did I receive clever Christmas gifts, I am clever.)
(Maybe I should sharpen one of those new pencils and get to writing. Or writin'.)
There are other things to fix that aren't so visible. We need to fix our church going (or goin') and find a place that matches who we are and where we are. I need to fix my sleep patterns without relying on sleep aids and medication. We need to fix our schedules to include more family and downtime -- how that will fit in, I'm not sure. But I don't want it too broken before we fix it. We need to fix our finances and be better savers -- the 529 we have will only last so long.
These fixes are not hard, not impossible, but they do require thought and planning. I'm thinking future fourth parts will be writing down (with the pencils) how to best fix things. A way to do that is to write in my new Bible. I've not had a new Bible in years. And, because of meeting a very inspiring, clever woman this year, I've discovered Bible journaling. With some Christmas money, I bought the Inspire Bible. To say I'm intimidated as to how to start -- I mean, I can draw a cross and a vine and maybe a heart -- is an understatement. But, I can't wait to start. I've got those new pencils, some flair pens and will be buying some official Bible journaling pencils (remember my affinity for Amazon Prime?!) so I can get going. Fixing that walk with Jesus, right?
And, this fixing business isn't new as my Bible or my pencils are . . .there are a few references in the Bible to fixing. Maybe they aren't technically repairing something as I'm hoping to do in the new year, but these verses really do help us fix our ways.
Hebrews 12:2 'Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.'
2 Corinthians 4:18 'So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.'
Deuteronomy 11:18 'Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.'
Proverbs 4:25 'Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you.'
In this new Bible, I can journal and maybe I'll try and start with these fix verses -- a good place to start for 2017. But, I'll use my special new pencils so I can get it right -- or at least be able to erase in case I need to fix my work.
Happy New Year.
One was seemingly so simple, but perfectly suited for me -- a box of pale blue, Southern phrase pencils. Pencils with dark lead waiting to be sharpened. Phrases on point (like the pencils will soon be) such as just darling, goodness gracious and oh my stars. Straight from Nashville and Reese Witherspoon's store, Draper James, these pencils are waiting for big things in 2017. And, I can't wait to use them to write in this upcoming year.
It's a year of change for us. I've potentially a new role at work that I found out about the last work day of 2016. Chris moves to Lubbock for school. Camille starts on a gymnastics journey that isn't unusual, according to many, but new to us. Caroline aspires to run barrels (after she trots them, of course). G and I have big birthdays this year. (I can't write the number yet, but it is out there, staring me down, greeting me and waiting.)
It's also a year of fixing. In the past, our family has had a phrase or word for the new year and we apply it to the resolutions to which we aspire. This year, it's 'fixing.' No more putting off projects, moving broken things to the side or stacking up to dos. We've got screens to replace, ceilings to paint, clothes to be mended, necklaces to repair and laptops to clean. Lots of fixing that has been put off too many times, too many days, too many weeks . . . you get it. We've procrastinated and now 2017 is for fixing.
(I wonder if a Draper James pencil from sweet Reese would read fixin' to?)
(Not only did I receive clever Christmas gifts, I am clever.)
(Maybe I should sharpen one of those new pencils and get to writing. Or writin'.)
There are other things to fix that aren't so visible. We need to fix our church going (or goin') and find a place that matches who we are and where we are. I need to fix my sleep patterns without relying on sleep aids and medication. We need to fix our schedules to include more family and downtime -- how that will fit in, I'm not sure. But I don't want it too broken before we fix it. We need to fix our finances and be better savers -- the 529 we have will only last so long.
These fixes are not hard, not impossible, but they do require thought and planning. I'm thinking future fourth parts will be writing down (with the pencils) how to best fix things. A way to do that is to write in my new Bible. I've not had a new Bible in years. And, because of meeting a very inspiring, clever woman this year, I've discovered Bible journaling. With some Christmas money, I bought the Inspire Bible. To say I'm intimidated as to how to start -- I mean, I can draw a cross and a vine and maybe a heart -- is an understatement. But, I can't wait to start. I've got those new pencils, some flair pens and will be buying some official Bible journaling pencils (remember my affinity for Amazon Prime?!) so I can get going. Fixing that walk with Jesus, right?
And, this fixing business isn't new as my Bible or my pencils are . . .there are a few references in the Bible to fixing. Maybe they aren't technically repairing something as I'm hoping to do in the new year, but these verses really do help us fix our ways.
Hebrews 12:2 'Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.'
2 Corinthians 4:18 'So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.'
Deuteronomy 11:18 'Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.'
Proverbs 4:25 'Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you.'
In this new Bible, I can journal and maybe I'll try and start with these fix verses -- a good place to start for 2017. But, I'll use my special new pencils so I can get it right -- or at least be able to erase in case I need to fix my work.
Happy New Year.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Amazon Boxes and James Avery Charms
Merry Christmas. Yes, let's celebrate the birth of Jesus and acknowledge Him as our Savior. Truly, the greatest gift from God. Sharing that story is paramount to any other activity on which we spend our time. Go tell it on the mountain. Talk about it over the dinner table. Shine that light.
Now, we can transition to another great gift this holiday season. The gift of Amazon Prime. How did we do Christmas before the joy and pure beauty of two-day free shipping? For this Christmas, I received at least 15 Amazon boxes. Some had one gift enclosed, others had several.
I began my Christmas-gift planning in November. I knew most of the gifts I needed to buy. And, I started ordering. Most every other day, there was a box on my porch. Either it was waiting for me at day's end or I would hear the 'ding dong' of the doorbell announcing an arrival.
When, Christmas lists were written and other requests made, I could pop on no matter the time of day or night and put in another order.
Easy, breezy, lemon squeezy ordering, receiving and then, oh yeah, organizing and wrapping. OK, those last two aren't so easy or breezy, but the first two, yep. Easy. Breezy.
It's $99 for the year. That's it and you can order as much or as little as you want (need?!). What. A. Bargain. What. A. Gift.
Christmas morning at our house starts around 7:30 a.m. The girls are not the earliest risers, but they do get up and go when it comes to greeting the gifts. This year, the girls were really into the Elf on the Shelf, Santa and decorating. Before anyone worries, we started off the day with a conversation and Bible study on why we celebrate Christmas. Both girls nailed it and are available for quizzing.
The gifts ranged this year from favorites of a hot glue gun and Julie the American Girl doll to Season One Shopkins (it's a miracle was the exclamation) and gymnastics mats. A Whataburger Yeti, a Fitbit Blaze and a gym bag were other favorites from the non-little ones.
We have so much and the gifts are really just icing to the blessing we have already received.
This year involved quite a few transitions. Best friends moving. Changing colleges. After-school activities. All required major planning and scheduling. Fourth parts still took place but some days there seemed to be little time for the joy of nothing (remember, watching Bravo is my nothing). With the transitions, there were some anxious moments, some tears and some serious praying.
While we do have our Savior and are encouraged (no asked) to cast our anxieties on Him, as a mom, there are days, times, moments where it is much easier to sit in the anxieties than trust in something greater. Melatonin, Tylenol PM and Unisom always help, but so do friends who care and the word of God.
In a few weeks, we have another transition. Chris is moving to Lubbock to attend Texas Tech. He's thrilled and so confident in this decision. He's a different kid. Not the same one who went off to school last year. And, this isn't the same situation. No more football and no more weekly visits to watch games. He'll be six hours away. He'll be living in an apartment. He'll be starting to 'adult.'
I've wondered if this was the right move and if it was at the right time. Things are falling into place so I know it's right. Plus, we continue to receive confirmation from God that it is the right move and right time.
And, then, I open a gift from Chris this morning. It's a Texas Tech James Avery charm. He bought it. He wants me to put it on my charm bracelet right away. He's proud. He's ready.
So, we pray for our hearts to be ready to accept Jesus and his blessings. We pray that we can proudly (without boasting) share the story of Jesus' birth, death and resurrection. We pray that things are done at the right time and according to God's path for us (rather than ours).
Then, you get a simple gift. A simple charm. Something bought with pride. Something paid for after a lot of hours at a retail job. Something he wants his mom to wear.
That's way better than Amazon Prime.
Merry Christmas.
Now, we can transition to another great gift this holiday season. The gift of Amazon Prime. How did we do Christmas before the joy and pure beauty of two-day free shipping? For this Christmas, I received at least 15 Amazon boxes. Some had one gift enclosed, others had several.
I began my Christmas-gift planning in November. I knew most of the gifts I needed to buy. And, I started ordering. Most every other day, there was a box on my porch. Either it was waiting for me at day's end or I would hear the 'ding dong' of the doorbell announcing an arrival.
When, Christmas lists were written and other requests made, I could pop on no matter the time of day or night and put in another order.
Easy, breezy, lemon squeezy ordering, receiving and then, oh yeah, organizing and wrapping. OK, those last two aren't so easy or breezy, but the first two, yep. Easy. Breezy.
It's $99 for the year. That's it and you can order as much or as little as you want (need?!). What. A. Bargain. What. A. Gift.
Christmas morning at our house starts around 7:30 a.m. The girls are not the earliest risers, but they do get up and go when it comes to greeting the gifts. This year, the girls were really into the Elf on the Shelf, Santa and decorating. Before anyone worries, we started off the day with a conversation and Bible study on why we celebrate Christmas. Both girls nailed it and are available for quizzing.
The gifts ranged this year from favorites of a hot glue gun and Julie the American Girl doll to Season One Shopkins (it's a miracle was the exclamation) and gymnastics mats. A Whataburger Yeti, a Fitbit Blaze and a gym bag were other favorites from the non-little ones.
We have so much and the gifts are really just icing to the blessing we have already received.
This year involved quite a few transitions. Best friends moving. Changing colleges. After-school activities. All required major planning and scheduling. Fourth parts still took place but some days there seemed to be little time for the joy of nothing (remember, watching Bravo is my nothing). With the transitions, there were some anxious moments, some tears and some serious praying.
While we do have our Savior and are encouraged (no asked) to cast our anxieties on Him, as a mom, there are days, times, moments where it is much easier to sit in the anxieties than trust in something greater. Melatonin, Tylenol PM and Unisom always help, but so do friends who care and the word of God.
In a few weeks, we have another transition. Chris is moving to Lubbock to attend Texas Tech. He's thrilled and so confident in this decision. He's a different kid. Not the same one who went off to school last year. And, this isn't the same situation. No more football and no more weekly visits to watch games. He'll be six hours away. He'll be living in an apartment. He'll be starting to 'adult.'
I've wondered if this was the right move and if it was at the right time. Things are falling into place so I know it's right. Plus, we continue to receive confirmation from God that it is the right move and right time.
And, then, I open a gift from Chris this morning. It's a Texas Tech James Avery charm. He bought it. He wants me to put it on my charm bracelet right away. He's proud. He's ready.
So, we pray for our hearts to be ready to accept Jesus and his blessings. We pray that we can proudly (without boasting) share the story of Jesus' birth, death and resurrection. We pray that things are done at the right time and according to God's path for us (rather than ours).
Then, you get a simple gift. A simple charm. Something bought with pride. Something paid for after a lot of hours at a retail job. Something he wants his mom to wear.
That's way better than Amazon Prime.
Merry Christmas.
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