Darkened Room

The one bad thing about having a blog is that I have to watch how honest and transparent I am. If I had  hemorrhoids, people definitely would NOT want to read about that. (And I really don't, by the way.) No one wants to read about a fight that I'm having with my husband ... no one wants to hear about family problems ... no one cares about health issues. Basically, people don't want to hear all of that stuff. However, my life is full of issues that I keep quiet and under wraps, and those are the issues where God is stretching me and teaching me. I need to be sensitive to my family and to my readers so that no one is particularly offended or appalled at what I'm sharing.

My problem? I tend to be overly honest and transparent. My face, body language, and voice inflections gives my feelings away. And if you hang around long enough and I semi-trust you, I'll wind up bearing my soul to you. If I've done that and you've been frantically looking around you for a way of escape, I'm issuing a blanket apology right now.

Currently I'm dealing with some fear issues. Out of respect for someone I love (privacy, not telling too much, blah blah blah), I'm not going to go in to any details. But let's just say that the routine, structure, predictability, and security of life is being shaken right now. And, if you know me, you know that I absolutely L-O-V-E routine, structure, predictability, and security.

This is the picture that God has given me. It's like we're walking in a darkened room without knowing where the light switch is. The fear of falling and getting hurt immediately comes over me. Okay, I'll be really transparent and honest here -- it's the fear of the boogey man that I KNOW is hiding in the corner waiting to pounce on me. So, there are two options: 1) Freeze where I am and panic; 2) Grab on to a hand of someone who knows where the light switch is and let them guide me.

Notice that the first option was to freeze and panic? That's because that is my first response. I usually can wind up terrifying myself with all of the "what-if's" and wind up hysterical. The problem with this response is that I'm still in the dark room, I'm not making any advancements or progress, and the pain will not only be probable but inevitable because I'll wind up flailing and trying to make it through without knowing what's ahead of me. Nothing good is accomplished and I'm absolutely alone in what I'm going through (unless the boogey man is there and that's still not a good picture).

The second response is obviously the one that God is wanting me to choose -- both for my benefit and our relationship. God doesn't need to reveal His plans to me so that I can give my approval, but He does want to make the journey with me. I may not understand all that is happening or even why it is happening, but God is capable. My heart understands that. My job is to trust and follow while He leads me through. My security is not in the light switch (revealing what I want to know), but the Guide Who leads me through the darkness. I learned many, many years ago that He is sovereign, can be trusted, and is my salvation. By placing my hand in His while He leads me through the darkness of not knowing and fear, my faith and our relationship is strengthened and grown. And He reminds me that's what ALL of life is about ...

"The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He willl never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8

Carrying My Mattress

It was May 3, 1999. I ran through the house, adrenaline pumping through my body. I was barking orders to my children, hurrying everyone into the small half-bathroom in the center of our house. The largest tornado in the written history of the world (at that time) was heading toward our town, and I was admittedly panicked. Of course, it could have been a teeny tiny little ole tornado and I still would have panicked (I've never learned to be comfortable around those things!). And I live in the heartland of Tornado Alley -- go figure!

In spite of my freaking out, I herded our children (and dog!) into the bathroom, then scurried back to get a mattress off of one of the beds to use for protection from the possibility of flying debris. Later, after the danger had passed (the tornado wound up changing direction and went a few miles south of us) and my husband came home from work, I was relating what had happened and discussing with my family how fear and adrenaline can make you physically able to do things that you normally wouldn't have the strength to dol. I had run through the hallways of our home carrying a large, bulky mattress oveer my head ... single-handedly ... all by myself ... all alone ... I was Superwoman!! Ta da!!!!

Our boys literally collapsed in laughter when they heard me recounting the story of my panic-stricken night, because it was so different from the one that they had seen. In my frenzy, I thought I had been given a super-human strength. Seriously. I remember thinking I could have probably lifted a Volkswagon that day. I was that hyped up with adrenaline. In reality though, I discovered my youngest son had been carrying the mattress behind me. I was basically just balancing it, even though I thought I had been doing all of the work. No wonder it seemed so easy! Now, every time we hear that a tornado is heading our direction, this is a favorite story that has to be re-told. Woo hoo. "Mom thinks she's strong enough to carry a mattress all by herself" ... "Mom freaks out when tornados are around" ... "Let's laugh at Mom -- AGAIN!" So glad I can be the entertainment for our family.

The most interesting part about this incident, however, is the dead give-away to my fleshly character. My nature is one of independence. I want to be able to "do it myself". I want to lean totally on me and what I'm able to do. I want to count on my strength to save me or those I love. How often I've tried to "carry the mattress" of my life and my circumstances! How often I've tried to do what only God can do.

I've been created with a need to be dependent upon God, to be in fellowship with Him. When I lean on anything but Him (including me!) for my strength, I am only fooling myself. Just as I couldn't carry that mattress through the house on my own strength, so I can't be the right type of wife or mother (or Nammy!). I can't generate my own peace and security. I can't be a godly witness to those around me. I can't see in to the future to know what paths or directions to take. I might be able to accomplish a little towards these goals, but without God's strength, the road is harder, the heartbreak is stronger, and the mattress is definitely waaaaaaay heavier. What I am able to do on my own is second best to the blessings God has in store for me when He is allowed to work in and through me.

There is not a whole lot that I can do on my own that will truly excel and succeed, but there is everything good that God and I can do together!!

"My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness"

2 Corinthians 12:9 

Losing My Heart to Teen MOPS

I've lost my heart to a group of girls. The opportunity to meet them presented itself in September and has continued on through this time. Let me describe the "average" girl at Teen MOPS (Mothers of Pre-schoolers).

She's 18 years old and is the mommy of a one-year old. She chose life for her baby even though people around her encouraged her differently. She's single, raising the child alone without any financial help or assistance from the father. She has family near by, but is living on her own. Currently she's in the Alt-Ed classes at her high school, working to get her diploma. She'd love to go on to college, but doesn't know that she'll be able to with a child and needing to work, but the hope is there. She works a minimum wage job, and receives aid from the government to help with food, her apartment, and day care. Life can get incredibly lonely and overwhelming when you're 17, a mommy, and on your own.

The girl described above is a composite of our girls. But each girl in our Teen MOPS program is unique. They range in age from 16 to 24. Some girls have just the one baby, while others have two, three, or four. Some are married, some are single, some are engaged, some are dating. Girls live at home with their parents or grandparents, live alone, or live with their husbands or boyfriends. Some girls have dropped out of school, or are in regular high school or the Alt-Ed classes. Some girls are taking college classes or vo-tech classes. Many, many, many of our girls, however, have received their high school diploma, which is a big feat (and cause for celebration!) when you're raising babies.  All of them, without exception, are truly heroic in that they chose to give life to their precious babies. All of them, again without exception, deal with difficult choices every day as they struggle being young moms. But, all of them -- and I mean ALL of them -- love visiting with other moms who are going through the same stage of life. They love to make the different crafts that we do ... they love to play the silly games that we play ... they love shopping in our Mommy Mart ... and they love visiting with other girls. They laugh and giggle ... share wisdom with each other ... tell stories of sick babies, poopy diapers, paying bills, and listen to others tell their stories as well.

And I love them. I seriously love them all. I love their bravery and their determination. I love their hearts to learn and grow. I love their openness and honesty. I love their hugs and the opportunity to hold their precious babies. I love praying for them and praying with them. I love the fact that each one wants to be the best mommy she can be.

People have told me that I'm doing a wonderful thing (ministering to these girls) and honestly, that just cracks me up whenever I hear it. In reality, it's the other way around. My Teen MOPS girls have opened and expanded my heart. They've blessed me beyond belief and showed me that it IS possible to love people that I've just met. My life will never be the same after meeting them ...

And, if you're one of my Teen MOPS girls ... and you've managed to get all the way to the end of the blog ... know that it's YOU I'm talking about. I love you!!

If you're not one of the Teen MOPS girls, you're missing out on a blessing, let me tell you! But you can be a part of our group, even if you live far away. Just continue to pray for them as they continue on this path of life. Pray for their strength and stamina, pray for their growth and maturity, pray for their joy in trying circumstances, pray that they'll come to know Jesus as their Lord, Provider, and Comforter.

Losing my heart has never been so wonderful ...

Growing Up

Someone asked me the other day why it's so hard to grow up. At first, it kind of stumped me. I mean, we just naturally grow up, don't we? We get bigger ... and taller (well, some of us!) ... we learn lessons ... and we kind of just grow up on our own. At least, that's what I thought at first. But I realized I was thinking of growing older. And growing older is waaaaaaaay different than growing up. Be prepared for a little bit of "Diana wisdom" becauser I'm going to throw some at you.
1. Growing up means that you put other people first. You don't just think of yourself, but you think of someone else -- what won't hurt them, what their desires are, what will inspire them.

2. Growing up means that you've managed to learn a little bit of self-control. You know when to stop.

3. Growing up means that you refuse to take everything seriously and blow things out of proportion. Drama is NOT a favorite past-time in the life of a grown-up.

4. Growing up means that you think beyond the moment. You look to the future and see how the things you choose, decide, do will affect your tomorrows.

5. Growing up means that you often return to your roots. You see the things that were done right and build on them for your own life.

6. Growing up means that you move on from the harmful things in your past. You don't embrace them, but instead you learn from the lessons that you've learned. You learn, get stronger and smarter, and move on.

7. Growing up means that you choose your friends wisely. It doesn't mean that you refuse to have anything to do with people that are on a different path than you or who aren't making wise choices (Jesus didn't even do that, thankfully for me!). But it means that you're careful who your closest friends are. They'll encourage you in the right way.

8. Growing up means that you enjoy the little things and try to not take everyday things for granted -- the beautiful sunshine, a baby's giggle, a good homecooked meal, holding the hand of the one you love, having all of the family around you.

9. Growing up means that you realize how valuable your time is. Sadly, you also realize how much of this precious commodity you've wasted. Every minute, every activity, every plan becomes more important as you see that you want to finish well.

10. Growing up means that you forgive more. You've seen the grace that has been extended to you and you pass that along to others.

There you go. These are just a few of my observations on growing up. As I get older (which I seem to be doing much more quickly these days), I don't want to be THAT person who just got older without actually maturing. I'm the most grateful for a God Who continues to teach me as I go, Who works with me in growing up, Who loves me when I fail, and Who never ever gives up. In reality, He's the One growing me up. It might be difficult for me sometimes, but I'm sooooo glad that He continues despite me. Yep, I DO want to grow up. Getting older? Now that's another blog ...

I Am So Patient ... NOT!

Wes and I were talking the other day, and I made a comment about how I'm more patient than I used to be. He just smiled at me ... and said nothing, which honestly said way more than if he HAD said something. Personally, I DO think I'm better, but I've still got a long ways to go. Now that I think about it, that really hurts my feelings ... but that will be another blog.

Some examples of my notable impatience?

** I despise waiting in a check-out line. I can feel the tension literally work itself up my body and I wind up wanting to scream. I've never actually done that, but you should see me squirm and move around in a check-out line. My husband tells me that I act like I'm in pain.  (Now that I've admitted that to anyone other than my husband, I feel pretty bad about my impatience meter.)

** If I buy an anti-wrinkle cream, I expect to look 10 years younger the first time I try it. I don't want to have to wait for six weeks or however long the product advertises. Give me instant results!

** Diet and exercise takes way too long for me. The first day that I eat right and cut my portions back or if I start a work-out routine, I expect to get in to all of my skinny clothes and have people comment how tiny I've become. Besides, sweating is just icky anyway.

** I don't particularly care for fast food. I'd prefer sitting in a restaurant, but I'd also prefer that they serve it in "fast-food" time. I might be impatient, but I'm never mean to my server for waiting too long though. Impatient and mean are two different things, right? But if that food gets there really fast, I'd like to kiss that cute little ole' server right on the cheek IF they didn't arrest me for being a wacky weirdo.

** And do NOT get me started on traffic jams ... or waiting rooms. It will just be too painful for all of us.

So, yes, I haven't been particularly gifted with being patient. It's something I've had to learn (and obviously am learning very slowly according to my husband) through many repeated events throughout my life. I've had four children, for Pete's sake! Surely THAT should count as something for me on the patience scale!! I've housebroken puppies ... I've had student drivers ... I've waited for repairmen to show up -- all without hurting anyone or breaking any laws. So, I'd like to think I've made a little bit of progress.

So, it just goes to figure that the main ministry of my life right now is what would be considered a "sowing" ministry. You know the one -- the type where you spend a lot of time sowing seeds but you don't happen to see much fruit or growth. Yeah, that kind. The kind of ministry for an incredibly patient person. (Let me state clearly though, it's not the people that I get impatient with. It's all of the millions of details and the organization that gets to me.) Of course, we already mentioned our four children. That's the area where the patience-learning first began. The funny thing? The areas of my life that bring me some of the greatest joy are in my "sowing" ministry and in the lives of my children. Yet those are areas that require the most amount of patience -- an area which I'm sorely lacking.

Obviously, God is working and granting me the patience when I need it. He points out that I might never see the fruit. He points out that not all of the seed might grow to fruition. But He also promises that some definitely will. His Word absolutely never returns to Him void, so I'm to continue with this business of seed sowing. God is the One Who provides the growth. God is the One Who will decide when the harvest is ready. All He asks me to do is to faithfully sow His seed ... to patiently sow His seed ... to continuously sow His seed. As I plod along with the sowing, He brings me great joy because someday, somehow, somewhere ... it will all be worth it. Even an impatient heart like mine can recognize that.

Rainy Woo-Hoo Days

It's a gray, dreary, drizzly day. Can I get a "woo-hoo"? As much as I love the sunshine and warmth, I've discovered that days like today are kind of nice, too. Of course, I have absolutely no energy and don't get anything productive done on days like today. Give me a blanket, a good book, a handful of chocolates and I'm good to go. Throw a little bit of a nap in there and I'll be one happy camper.

Personally, I think God throws days like today in the mix just for me. I tend to be a little bit of a "over-doer". Okay, I'll admit it -- I seem to run myself ragged most of the time. There are always places to go ... things to do ... people to see, call, or text ... deadlines to meet ... events to plan for ... things to clean ... laundry to wash ... items to buy ... dogs to be fed or groomed ... gifts to purchase ... showers or parties to attend ... cards to send ... work to be done ... errands to run ... food to be cooked ... you're getting the idea, right? There's always something urgent that needs my attention, and needs my attention NOW. Because I keep going until I fall over in a dead faint or become dreadfully sick and at death's door (yeah, I'm exaggerating a little bit), these gray days are a good reminder for me to slow down ... to have a little bit of "me" time (which I've decided is NOT one of the seven deadly sins). And let's face it, in an empty-nest-household, there's definitely more time for me to spend time on me. (Don't tell my husband. He thinks I work just as hard as I used to when our house was full of a gazillion kids and their friends.)

God continues to watch out for me in this busy life of mine, and gives me the periodic gift of rest and recuperation (even when I'm NOT sick!!). Please note, He gives me those occasional days for rest, but if I don't pay attention and keep going, He'll become pretty insistent that I slow down and will force convince me to stop and rest. Unfortunately, that usually only happens due to illness or injury, so I've learned to look at rainy days as my vaccine against days of overwork. So, for today, I'm grateful for this gray, drizzly day ... and looking forward to my reading, chocolate, and nap this afternoon. Hope that you grab a little bit of "you" time for you today as well!

So-Called Empty Nest

After a weekend of having just Wes and me living in our house, I've learned:

     * When I clean the house, it stays cleaned.

     * When we sit down to eat dinner, there's always at least half of the food left over to stash away for another meal.

     * I wake up in the morning and the house is quiet. In fact, the house is still quiet in the afternoon and during the evening, too.

     * The laundry hamper doesn't overflow. Laundry only needs to be done a couple of times during the week.

     * Our calendar looks oddly empty.

     * Planning menus or activities for only two people is fairly simple ... and basically cheap.

Describing our house and life like this seems strange to me. But that's what an empty nest is -- strange. Although, come on!! Is it really an empty nest when all of the kids' stuff is still in our attic and spare rooms?!

There are good things that go along with the so-called empty nest (my term for the nest that is devoid of children but still full of their belongings) -- more time for Wes and me. We can actually eat steak once a week if we want to (and be able to afford it!). We rule the remote and can watch what we want on TV (if we can both manage to watch it without falling asleep). Household chores don't seem as bad because the house stays pretty well cleaned. If we decide at the last minute to go out to eat and to see a movie, we don't need to tell anyone -- we just go. And, if Wes wanted to sit around in his underwear to read the paper and drink coffee, he could. He doesn't (in case you really care to know), but he could.

I always thought I'd hate this time because our kids were so much the center of our lives. And man, did we love having those kids!! We loved the ball games ... the late-night talks ... the huge family meals ... the chaos, the noise, the busy-ness of it all. Don't tell them, but I even loved their messes and cleaning up after them just because it meant they were there! But I'm finding that the empty nest, like all of the other stages of life, is good ... and right ... and welcome. Yes, we love it when our kids are home. In fact, we hope they continue to come home to visit ... a LOT!  We love it when our grandbabies are here, and we're looking forward to filling up our home with even more of them! Yet we also love this time for just Wes and me -- relearning each other, being the best friends we were meant to be. It's a stage of life that I honestly wasn't looking forward to, but one that I've found myself seriously not hating. Of course, it's only been a weekend. (After I wrote that, I realized it sounded really bad, like I'm pessimistic, but that's not the case! I'm actually anticipating that this new stage will be a good one for us.) Stay tuned!