Middle Of the Night Snoring

That is what I thought woke me up an hour ago.  Scott's snoring.  Loud.  Oh so loud.  And I was so comfortable.  Somehow I had arranged myself on the pillows, all of them, just right, snuggled in a pillow of well, pillows.  I didn't even want to move to the couch because of my comfort.  But his snoring couldn't be ignored.  So I moved.  I come to the couch where his computer is still running, with the song that has come to be Jordan's favorite song...Matt Maher's "Christ is Risen"...is still up on the song list.  It was the last thing Jordan sang before bed.  God has given her a sweet little voice.  One that longs to worship even at her age.  She is on key and when not trying, has the perfect hint of vibrato that only a six year old can have.  I start listening to songs that take me back so to say.  They take me back to a time when I felt free.  Sometimes I miss my charasmatic days.  Those were the days of dancing like no one was watching.  Like David when he danced naked before the Lord.  He danced like a fool for God.  I listened to Kim Hill's "You Are Still Holy".  After just having seen Roar, I am keenly aware of how big God is, and I wish I could put on some point shoes and dance in his chambers.  Like no one is watching.  I listened to Jaci Valesquez's "I Get On My Knees" and am reminded of my lack of prayer and faith.  Then, my final favorite "Another Time and Another Place" by Wayne Watson and Sandi Patty.  Talk about a flashback.  That song used to be my life's song.  "Lord, come now.  I want to go to Heaven now."  It was almost a selfish "come now prayer."  I just longed to be gone from here and see the face of Christ.  Of course it really isn't selfish at all. It is how God has made us; he made us to long for his presence.  After those three songs I somehow clicked on 2 songs that had clips from The Passion movie.  I saw Him beat.  My stomach turned in disgust (because of the blood) and anxiety due to the gore I was seeing.  Like a sheep lead to it's slaughter, so he went.  Silent.  And endured the most brutal death that one man could ever endure.  Why?  What held him there?  The people jeered, saying if He was really the Son of God he would get off the cross.  But he said nothing.  He only asked for their, for our, forgiveness and declared the finish.

I got up to take an anxiety pill.  My stomach was in that kind of anxiety mode.  The kind that will not let me sleep.  But then I realized that I need to feel this anxiety.  In His sovereignty, God the Father chose for Jesus to come and die for our sins during a time in history when death was the most brutal.  I need to see the gore every so often.  I need to be reminded that He was unrecognizable on the cross and yet he stayed there.  He was held on that cross not by a lack of power, but because he was overcome by love for those that would pass through his flowing blood to be made white as snow.  God the Father could have chosen that Jesus come today when his death would be by electric chair.  Relatively easy compared to what he went through for hours upon hours.  Pure torture.  Whipped.  Beaten.  Spat upon.  Then, when his body was on the brink of death, made to carry his own very heavy cross up the hill that he might be hoisted up in the air to be laughed at, mocked, and to die.  For me.  He did that for me.

Now I am left with nothing but awe, and am praying that he might save my two littlest.  I pray that he would save those in my family who have not yet experienced the wonderful humility that washes over one's spirit when he/she realizes what we were saved from.

I need to blog more often.  And I will.  But for tonight I am leaving with this:

1 Corinthians 15:54-56

New International Version (NIV)

⁵⁴ When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”^[a]

⁵⁵ “Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?”^[b]

To My Eldest

Dear Jordan,

Today I watched you walk into school.  Your backpack is huge on your tiny frame, your side puff and natural hair just cute as can be, all the while your favorite outfit of a skort and spaghetti strapped shirt stood out among the crowd of jeans and sweatshirts.  Your orange striped knee socks were folded over just the way you like them and your light up shoes sparkled with every step of the toes you took.  You were beautiful.  I even saw a couple little boys look at you.  You  have no idea how gorgeous God our Heavenly Father has made you.  But not only are you gorgeous on the outside, on the inside you are radiant.  God is changing your heart and making you more like him and as your mom, it is nothing less than awesome to watch.  You are a good friend, a great big sister, and a gentle soul.  You don't like it when others do something wrong such as lie or say mean things about another person.  I love seeing God work in you right now.  The things he is working on are so simple, yet things that we struggle with our entire lives.  Jordan, even as your mom, sometimes I have a hard time telling the truth.  Sometimes I have am mean and not so kind to others when they need it most.  I pray that your childlike faith stays just that...like that of a child, hurting with those that hurt,absolutely needing to be truthful or your soul hurts, and loving kindness which leads you to be kind.

I watched you walk into school today, and the realization that you are walking away from me was ever too clear.  Watching my first born grow up is so bittersweet.  The joy you feel when you learned to tie your shoes, oh baby girl, I felt it too!  But it was also yet another reminder that you are getting bigger and one day before I know it you will walk an aisle and take final steps away from me as your mother toward another whom you will entrust your earthly life too.  I know, I know, I will always be your mom, just like Grandma Bob is my mom.  But my relationship with grandma is different now that I am older with kids of my own.  I know I am getting ahead of myself, but I feel hear the rush of time coming up behind me, ready to blow right past me as the wind through the leaves and I am not ready for it.  I wish I could bottle up this memory of seeing you bounce into school today without a care in the world (or your homework).

 Baby girl, you are more precious than you know.  Your beauty is indescribable. May your feet be swift to share Jesus with the lost, and your hands quick to pull them from the flames.  May your heart be ready to envelop anyone who crosses your path, seeing only what God sees...a sheep without a shepherd.  Be different!  Be you and who God created you to be and you will stand out in the sea of facial beauties as one whose beauty comes from beyond the makeup and great clothes.  Be a beacon of hope, because as we both know, the hope of God does not disappoint.

Pandora

So I have been longing for a Pandora bracelet for a while.  Last week they ran the "free bracelet with $100 purchase" promo so I fell for it.  I took myself to the mall on Sunday afternoon.  But this Sunday was a bit different.  We had communion that morning; during communion I dipped my finger in the sacred grape juice and put one little dot on my hand.  I stared and stared at it in complete awe, realizing that one single little dot of Jesus' blood washed away all of my sin.  I tend to forget this.  I am a very works oriented/people pleasing person.  I hate it, but tis my cross to bear.  I was so thankful that Jesus did it all, all to him I owe.  He washed away my crimson stain and made me white as snow.  So when I went to get my bracelet I chose a glass bead that is red and white swirled, always a reminder of the blood washing me white as snow daily.  I love it and I hope that it helps me to live a more gracious lifestyle.

Heirs with Christ

The other day during some playful wrestling with the kids Scott said "Who's your daddy?"  You know, the famous phrase meaning "HA!  You lose!"  Well Micah jumped up, grinned so big I think her face could hurt, pointed at Scott and said "You are my daddy!" 

Romans 8 tells us this: "Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ..."  I was immediately taken to the thought of adoption. 

My kids are adopted.  My sister and nieces are adopted by my parents (God bless their souls...raising a 7, 4, and 3 year old at their age).  I hope my dad-Bob- doesn't mind me disclosing such personal information, but I know one of his concerns with adopting kids is that it would take away from our inheritance.  Like they have much, but whatever.  He didn't want our cut to go to a kid that wasn't of either his or my mom's bloodline.  Of course I assured him that I didn't care.  When they go to be with the Lord, the last thing I will care about is how much money I will get or what furniture is mine.  What I will be doing is grieving all the while knowing that they are praising our heavenly father who saved them from his wrath. 

Sin unleashed in hell.  That is what we are saved from.  And what do we become?  Heirs of God.  We are his adopted children and he therefore allows us to be co-heirs with his Son, co-heirs with Christ.  I know this means we go to Heaven and beyond that, I am not sure what our inheritance will be or look like.  Maybe just being in his presence is inheritance enough?  I know our earthly inheritance involves tons of grace, mercy, and peace with God beyond understanding.  But after death it will be a big surprise.  But the point is, his firstborn not only FREELY shares his inheritance with us, but calls us brother and sister while his Father calls us daughters and sons.  We are no different in his eyes because all he sees is his righteousness through Christ. 

Micah bodly calling Scott her daddy reminded me of the beauty of both earthly and heavenly adoption.  Adoption into our family is just a blessing, but an example of what God has done for us.  We are in no way genetically related to his son.  Jesus was perfect; holy.  We are far from either.  Yet we are his heirs.  Wow!  Just...wow...

Micah, my daughter, my beautifully adopted daughter who looks nothing like me, is my heir, along with Jordan and JW, none of whom are blood related at all.  But they are brother and sisters.  My children.  My heirs.  Co-heirs of all my worldly goods. 

The Battlefield

I have been thinking a lot lately about war because my baby bro just got back from Afghanastan.  The same day he left war, an old college friend was shot down while flying his helicopter and is at Walter Reed with broken bones, expected to live but not to walk for about six months.

So one day I was just thinking to myself about war in the spiritual realm, and how hard it is to be a stay at home mom.  I desperately try day in and day out how hard it is for me to be a SAHM.  I am used to being on the front lines of the battle.  I love evangelism.  I love discipleship.  I miss ministry the way I knew it through Campus Outreach.  I am not a behind the scenes kind of girl.  I never was.  God made me otherwise.

In my complaining about the monotony of everyday life with an almost 6 year old and 2 three year olds, I asked Scott to make some decisions about our future.  You see, anxiety makes it near impossible for me to even decide what to eat, let alone be a helper in making decisions with him.  So I asked him about adoption again and moving downtown to join that ministry.  To me, the downtown ministry is the front line I am looking for.  I get excited to think about what putting one more stake for Jesus in that dark place; one more house to tell Satan that Jesus will reign in this place.  Well, he made decisions.  He said no more kids because 1) it is so expensive and we have just about dug ourselves out of debt, and 2) emotionally, he sees me gearing up and somewhat excited about the littles going to school a couple days a week next year so he feels that I may be too fragile to handle another.  Then he said no to moving downtown.  That saddened my heart a bit because it felt like he was taking something away.  But his reason was for my protection.  He wants our home to be a sanctuary for us, and living downtown means one is always "on".  On guard against the outside coming in.  On guard against drug dealers, prostitutes, everyday dangers of living in the bad area of town.  Gunshots.  Robbery.  Then keeping your kids safe through it all.  Scott decided it wasn't where God was calling us.

My next thoughts were back to being a stay at home mom.  I started once again to complain, talk about spiritual warfare, etc.  Then it hit me.  I am on the front lines NOW.  We adopted children and saved them from the unknown.  JW could have been dead at 21, while Micah and Jordan could have ended up pregnant.  Not that they still can't should they choose to disobey God's word, but it felt like in a way we were doing what the downtown ministry does but on a smaller scale.  I was literally in mid-sentence when I stopped and said "That is why being a stay at home mom is so hard.  I long for days when I can get out of pajamas and go talk with people who are at least half my age.  But I can't do those things right now because I am raising children.  I am on the front lines of the war against evil.  And that is why being a stay at home mom is so dang hard."  For the first time I actually realized why it is hard.  It isn't me.  It isn't them.  It is Satan trying his damn hardest to get me to look only at what is right in front of me instead of what is going on behind the scenes.

I needed God to remind me that monotony isn't just that.  It is war.  With every mac and cheese served I am giving Satan one more reason to fight even harder.  So if I think that this is the hard part because they are so young and under my feet, I am wrong.

This came to mind on the way home from our family vacation.  I think it is worth penning to have for me to read whenever I need to.

"If hell is sin unleashed, then I must fall on my knees in thankfulness, for God has saved me from his wrath.  If heaven is Christian hedonism unleashed, then my one reaction should be to rise from my scarred knees and praise the God from whom this hedonism can begin."

Sin unleashed = scary, scary thought.  Every thing I am scared of here on earth (rape, murder, being kidnapped), every thing I struggle with (jealousy, covetousness, anxiety), plus all the things I am naive to will be unleashed on the souls that Satan managed to "win".  This is his pleasure.

Christian hedonism, well, I cannot begin to even fathom it.  But I do know that as I slid down watersides with Jordan this week, her eyes were massive and her smile was so big all you saw was lips and gums with tiny teeth in there somewhere.  Multiply that by 1000 and I might be able to understand Heaven.  The joy I felt in seeing her happy is indescribable.  I cannot imagine the joy that awaits me as God unleashes what pleases him on his children.

I.Hate.Potty.Training.

Who would have thought, but JW is the first to begin the process.  Two weeks later he still isn't full on potty trained.  Hmph.  (Why he couldn't be an overnight potty-trainer like his sister?)  This morning he woke up at his usual 6:30 wake up time.  Butt naked.  Pajamas laid neatly on the floor beside his bed.  Nearly dry diaper with them.  Pee on the carpet.   Said area rug is now sunning to bleach the smell out. Later we went for a walk where he stayed dry the whole time.  Yay!  Everyone got a bath to wash off the humid southern sweat that one gets even at 9:00 in the morning.  While drying JW off on his bed it smelled a little like pee.  Hmmm? 

Me:  JW, did you pee in the bed?
JW:  Nope!
Me:  Well, it smells like pee.  Are you sure you didn't pee in the bed?
JW:  Noooo (laughing the whole time).  I peed in da grass! 

So I am guessing the carpet was his grass.  I suppose it is true that peeing in grass is inate in boys.  And in case you really just have to know, he didn't pee in the bed.  I am supposing that after peeing in his grass he sat on his bed where he air dryed.  A quick change of sheets and all is well.

And Micah, well, she is nowhere near PTing.  Unless you count wearing panties as a diaper cover *roll eyes*

October 2011

This is going to be looooong, so bear with me.

October 2011 started out with fun at Steed's Dairy Farm.  This bouncy thing was the kid's favorite thing to do.  They kept coming back to it over and over.

JW's "look".

Jordan on the bouncy thing. 

Time out in public is just no fair.

We didn't get much together time.  Honestly, Scott got stuck running after babies most of the time while I chased Jordan and TJ around from place to place.

You tell me, does that bow (which happens to be Jordan's fave at the moment) look a bit like Minnie Mouse or what?  

One of my all time favorites. This will be canvased.

Once again, back to the bouncy thing.

Then it got COLD.  I mean, butt freezing cold.  I am willing to bet that this was the only cold snap we had all fall and winter. 

Bad parents.  Girlfriend needed a bike.  Bad.

Such a boy.  And yes, I realize that some of these are a bit blurry.  I was just starting to get back into photography after my 2 year hiatis.

Jordan took this picture.  She is very artistic.  Her drawings amaze me.

These very big and not so cute pigs bravely went to slaughter and made wonderful sausage :)  Seriously...350 lb pigs.  They were huge.  Bob just got some more babies and even they are ugly.  Charlotte's Web they are not.

Jordan went to her first Halloween party with mom and Bob, but mainly with TJ.  It was at their church.

Eventually, the whole family turned into pumpkins.

 

Halloween party #2 at ballet.

 

Micah sitting with "Bob Bob", as she lovingly calls my mom, watching Jordan's ballet party/presentation.  On a side note, Bob Bob used to be Grandma Pat.  Then my niece started calling her Grandma Bob (along with Grandpa Bob).  Then Miicah dropped the Grandma and now she is just Bob Bob.  And it has stuck.  Even my mom calls herself that.

Halloween party #3 (school party was squeezed in there somewhere).  This was at church and it was miserably cold.  Uncomfortably cold.  Halloween around here is unpredictable, but it has never been this cold.  It was windy and didn't get out of the 40's that day.

We got to see sweet friends.  This is one of my BFF's kids.  They live in Tampa, so imagine how cold they felt.

BFF's other kid, who was also cold.  But she is so cute it didn't matter.

 

Medlins minus dad.  We love them.

Jordan's twin in boy form...and white form haha!  These two gravitate to eachother no matter where they are.

Jordan got her face painted.

Cutest.clown.ever.



How a man carries a huge kid.  JW has his 3 year checkup next week, but last I did a rough estimate he was 41.5 lbs and 41 inches.  Big kid, no?

Best friends forever.  These two are pretty much joined at the hip.  But when Jordan wants to play rough, she runs to Big J.  He is her wrestling buddy.

Our church steeple where this freezing cold party was held.  But you know what, kids never notice they are cold so fun was had anyway.  And, I feel so blessed be be able to be a part of this church.  It is nothing less than Christ centered and giving and evangelism driven.  Love it.

 

My only trick-or-treating pic.  I wanted more, but it is hard to take pictures and wrangle 3 kids going in different directions.  This was taken at my sweet, and favorite, grandparents' house.  I adore my grandma and grandpa.  In some ways I feel like they are cheerleaders for us.  And they love my kids.  In fact, these are the grandparents that Micah RUTH and Jeremiah WADE are named after.  We joke with them and tell them that they have changed color ;)

 That is it for now.  See you on next month's post.