Thank You Thursday – Market Pantry
This one is dedicated to the helpful people at Market Pantry. Let’s say you always wanted to eat a delicious wrap. Maybe you ate one at Panera (do they have them there? Or maybe at Chipotle (because technically a burrito is one…right?) or some such place. I don’t know, because I don’t order wraps when I am out.
If you order a wrap somewhere, is it because you are trying to save calories? Maybe you just want to appear to care about carbs? Maybe you really really love tortillas. I don’t know. Gluten? That sounds the best I think. You want to avoid gluten so you order a nice gluten free wrap sandwich.
As you enjoy your wrap, I bet sometimes, if the wrap is really good, you wonder if you could make it at home. Let’s see, you’d say to yourself, I’ll need avocado and chicken and tomatoes and some lettuce of various kinds and of course, a tortilla. I’m just gonna wager that you don’t ever wonder to yourself HOW to make the wrap.
BUT!!!
Just in case you are a complete idiot, Market Pantry included steps for you:
Oh, now wait.
Place, fold, roll?
Fold, Place, Roll?
What one earth?!
I’ve rolled and then placed and now I’m folding and oh, this is too much!!
I give up!!!
Bah, I’ll just get some bread.
Read MoreLessons and Learning
This past week was odd, probably for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being the tree that was ripped apart in our front yard. The story of that tree falling down didn’t actually begin on that day, though. It started on Wednesday when I heard the Lord speaking to me.
Don’t go nuts or think that I am. Sometimes this just happens to me, when I’m moving slowly, taking my time, talking to Him and actually pausing to listen to see if He responds. Most of the time, He speaks to me through His Word, bringing pieces of it back into my mind, reminding me of what I already know is true. Sometimes He keeps bringing the same thing into my view time after time and in different ways and then I know that this thing I have been ignoring shouldn’t be overlooked. And then there are the two times He has specifically shown me His movement in my life with cold hard cash.
Those scenarios went something like this:
1. Use money for something good, but unexpected.
2. Have another expense arise close enough to the previous event that my palms get a little sweaty about “all this money we’re spending”.
3. Freak the snot out about all of it in a horrific spiral of selfishness, greed and fear that ends in me questioning God’s goodness in general, but certainly His goodness to me in the specific.
4. God replaces the original amount of money TO THE PENNY to shut me up and remind me that it all belongs to Him, the Good One, the One I can trust.
5. Repentance from me and lots of praise to Him (but let’s be honest, most of the praise is over the wonderment part – that He stepped in and DID something – because more times than not, I am walking around thinking that He is not doing much of anything with regard to me. It’s not right, of course, but it is honestly what I am thinking when I focus on His boot-to-the-head style of intervening).
This week on Wednesday, I heard Him ask for me to do something with money and although I was fairly certain that it was Him speaking and not me, I waited to act. You might think this very unwise (if you are as sure as I was that the God of the Universe was asking me to do something, then I ought to get to it, don’t you think) or perhaps very wise (a prudent person would not rush to do something rash and how could you know if it was really God or just the fact that I hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning). Either way, I waited and actually, kind of pushed it out my mind as something to talk with Jud about later that night.
During the girls’ nap time, I picked up a book I’ve been reading and the Lord slapped me on the back of the head with what He’d told me do earlier. I’d reached a part in that tome that was about the very thing He’d been instructing me to do. And now I needed to act on it. Two sleeping girls and a husband not at home meant I couldn’t physically accomplish it. I was going to need to do something else to obey in the moment and so I wrote out a note and did it in faith that my husband would confirm the Lord’s direction [would I have gone ahead with it if he’d said ‘no’? No. I wouldn’t. That’s the thing about letting someone lead you. I’m not the one who would deal with it then at the Bema seat. I would’ve done my part and the Lord would deal with him as He wants. It really is a fantastic thing about being a woman with a man who leads. He is thoughtful and prayerful and sensitive to the Spirit.].
Then I waited for him to come home and for the proper time to talk about it. He read the note. We talked. He trimmed the tree in the front yard. I put the baby to bed. He came inside and said that I should obey. The matter settled, I was excited to obey but again had to wait.
Sleep came fitfully. I dreamed of not obeying. I dreamed of difficulty in obeying. I dreamed I had a giant, Tom Selleck sized, mustache that kept coming back right away no matter what I did. Finally morning dawned and I drank coffee, waited for my time to be able to go to the gym and used part of it to do what I needed to do.
1. It was Thursday morning and I’d just used money for something good, but unexpected.
2. It was Thursday night when our tree came crashing down.
3. We were driving home, unsure of what we’d find, when the energy started to bubble up in my chest. It’s the energy that comes before the freak out – the energy that turns it all into a nasty thing and I named it. I told Jud, who was driving through the pouring rain, that I wasn’t going to do it this time. I wasn’t going to doubt God, no matter what we found at home, no matter what the cost to remove the tree, no matter what shade is gone from our evening, no matter what the future holds. The future is His, not mine. I have been sustained by Him and He will continue to sustain.
I doubt 4. will come now. I don’t need it to and although I love those moments of unbelievable shock when He catches me in such bold ways, I am sure of His heart now. He doesn’t have to set off a firework to get me to look. I’m looking now. I’m ready now.
5. All Praise to the One who loves me. All Praise to the One who cares. Oh, how He cares.
A Wind Event
Thursday night Jud and I were all set to party down with a friend who graduated from college at the delicious Brazenhead Irish Pub. They make such delicious pesto mayo. I could slather that stuff on everything. I’d ordered some extra for the side of my waffle fries, when a voicemail arrived from my neighbor. Our tree had split and she wondered if we were okay.
We were okay. But the babysitter (first time watching our munchkins, but a pro in her own right) and the kids? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. I called the neighbor first to thank her and ask her to step in if things looked crazy. Then I called the sitter and she was as cool as a cucumber. All was well. They hadn’t even heard the tree splitting apart.
Rain was pouring as we ran to the car. Our meals, not yet delivered, forgotten and left (without paying! Hey friends! Sorry we ordered and dashed on you! I don’t know what happened after we left, but I am sorry!). Wheels pointing home, moving swiftly over the rain soaked asphalt, through the mini pools of run off, we drove.
The closer we got, the more debris was hanging around. Apparently the winds were worse here. Isn’t it odd how that happens? On one block there is giant, shredding hail or some such thing and the next there is only rain or what not? In Hawaii, as a young child, we would walk across the street to escape the afternoon brief shower and move back into our own yard while the tiny little rain cloud made it’s way down the street. It was the stuff of the Truman show except it was REAL.
As we turned the corner, we saw a different neighbor out in our front yards, surveying the damage. She lost a major branch, but we had the worst of it. The part of our tree that had always had a slightly odd bend to it was down. The bend had become a split and the split had become a massive tear in a matter of seconds. The outer limbs were clawing at the house and garage while rain fell in heavy drops all around.
Our homecoming barely even registered with the kids. They had snacks, a movie and a babysitter. Their night was going just fine, thank you very much. They were pretty much annoyed that our dripping wet selves had interrupted their partying. Won’t be the last time.
When our neighbor across the street came out to take a peek at it all and the rain had stopped for a bit, Jud went out to chat. And then suddenly he was outside with three of our neighbor dudes – with gloves and a chainsaw, rakes, brooms, a ladder and muscles. They all chipped in and had everything cleared out in a relatively short period of time. I doubt they felt it, but I got nothing but warm gooey feelings seeing them all working together to help us. They don’t make better neighbors. We’re so grateful.
Read MoreThank You Thursday – Those Who Stay Behind
Between Memorial Day, my grandfather’s death and the anniversary of D-Day this week, I have been thinking quite a bit about all of the sacrifices that people have made over the years in the name of liberty. It’s not just patriotism for patriotism’s sake. I mean, I like this country quite a bit, but it isn’t the only place in the world where people are thriving.
We would all be very well served to commit ourselves to learning a little more about the rest of the countries on the planet [Do you know anything at all about Canada’s politics? Could you name their top political parties? Do you know where Malawi is located? Can you point out Syria on a map? What is going on with Portugal’s budget? Over which country does President Saleh preside? — You can probably do one of them. Even two or three. All of them? Me neither. We’re just unbelievably self-centered, which is especially a problem if you consider your citizenship less a matter of political prestige and more one of spiritual matters]. But, I digress.
I am the child of a retired USAF Chief Master-Sargent. I grew up completely entrenched in the military way of life. And in many, many ways, the military worldview is unique. You think differently about politics and security and the future and Red Dawn. I went to bed every night for about two years in early elementary school convinced that I needed a way to escape if the Cold War came knocking on my door and could only comfort myself with the idea that living within 12 miles of an Air Force base gave me plenty of hope that I wouldn’t survive the initial nuclear bomb strike. Probably not something you were doing if your dad wasn’t working on a satellite test team that was part of Reagan’s Star Wars program. See? Different worldview.
And then there was my mother. She rarely said anything about those many many days and nights when she was a single parent and when she did speak up, if it wasn’t to invoke the “When your father gets home, he will deal with this!”, it was positive. She just sucked it all up and barreled through those days; the ones where my father was gone for a year when we were smaller than my two kids are now, the ones when we were in elementary school and she was checking our homework and keeping the house and budget together too, the ones where we were out on our own and she was all alone with Pogo. She didn’t complain. She didn’t undermine his work. She never gave him a reason to worry so that he could focus on the very important tasks at hand.
And she wasn’t alone. The world is strewn with scores of women who do and have done the same thing. The ones from WWII are leaving us so quickly now, these women who gave up silk dresses and stockings so that boys could jump out of planes. The ones from the Vietnam era who suffered so much dealing with a war they might not have believed in while their husbands and fathers and brothers and sons fought because they’d taken an oath. The ones who watched their loved ones leave for places like Korea and Bosnia and Turkey and for places like submarines and carriers and out posts and front lines. The wars that continue to call your family away now are remembered and forgotten as their political advantage is needed. Our every day lives here, though infinitely more informed than before, are cluttered with causes and attention can so quickly shift to floods and tornadoes and things that seem more imminent. I just wanted you to know that today, on this Thursday, I am stopping to remember you and to offer my thanks for all that you do.
I am so thankful for you.
Read MoreThank you Thursday: Last Week Was Brutal
It’s Thursday, which means another installment of gratitude. It’s an attitude!
Last week, I flew to Maryland all by myself. That is not an easy thing to do when you have two children that depend on you to be there every moment of every day and night. It is a wonderful, sometimes rewarding, sometimes infuriating full time job. And I had to find people who would not only watch the kids while I was away and Jud was at work, but people that I trusted. When you are given something that is fantastically fragile, highly impressionable and incredibly vulnerable, you have to put it in the right places at the right times to keep it healthy and safe. Which is why I called Jan, Lydia and Sarah.
Jan took the morning duty and dragged her very pregnant self out of bed earlier than she would have had to without my imposition and came over before Jud left for work. She took them to the park. She gave them breakfasts and snacks and played lots and lots of Legos. Then she packed them up and took them to Lydia’s.
If I pretend like it was just Lydia helping out, you would know that wasn’t the case immediately. She has all of these fantastic children there to help and I am sure that they did quite a bit of work to keep my kids entertained. They helped Piper nap. They gave them snacks. They played outside and inside and once again spent tons of time engrossed in Lego creations. They’d been busy all morning completing and administering standardized tests and then they gave up their afternoons to make sure my trip could happen. It was technically a vacation week there, but they sacrificed for our family and shouldered our burden when they didn’t have to.
And as if dog sitting my parents hounds wasn’t enough, or being at her parents’ house to help with my kids in the early afternoon didn’t go out of her way enough, Sarah came over and watched the kids in the evening so that Jud could make his committee meeting too.
Where is the end to the giving? What would these mothers and sisters and young women not do to help their friends? Outside of the realm of legality and spirituality, I have no idea. They love me so well. I hope that they know how much they have blessed me, the kids and Jud as they sacrificed their time, energy and sleep to make our week happen with ease. I couldn’t be more grateful. Thank you. Your loving kindness to our family so clearly reflects the Savior and we are filled with joy.
Read MoreThank you Thursday: From Mother’s Day
With so many incredible people to thank each day for making mine that much better, I have decided that there is not a better place to proclaim my love for them than on the interwebs.
Our friend and wonderful photographer, Eve, took this photo of me with the kids for the Mother’s Day Montage at church. Although I clearly don’t know how to hide my gum when smiling I am sure that I will love this for years to come.
Thank you, Eve, for capturing this moment and to Sarah W for sending it to my inbox. You two together are keeping this website beautiful and I am so thankful for your artistic contributions to the CBC family. The beauty you are highlighting reflects your beauty too. I am so appreciative to receive the gift!
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