Graduation

My sweet college girls are moving on.

I have had the privilege of walking alongside a particular group of college girls for the last three years. One was so shy when I met her that she would barely look me in the eye when we were speaking. Now, she's packing her bags, ready to move to China, prepared to live in a hammock and eat peanut butter until she finds a job, certain of where God would have her.

I delight in being able to witness beautiful, internal, growth. The radiant confidence that comes from walking with Jesus.

Here's a little stroll down memory lane:

Asian night celebrating a trip to teach English

Southeast-Asian night, celebrating birthdays and an opportunity to teach crafts to women who need income

These same girls working in our children's ministry as AWANAS leaders, loving on my kids

                                                    Hearts to serve, wherever God calls us

                                                       Hunting Easter Eggs... It's on!

spa night

                                                         Dying eggs..... Not just for children

beauty base zero...getting those pedicures ready for spring retreat

                                      girls with pearls of wisdom of your own to share

the early years of meeting in the nursing mothers room with the squeaky rockers

summer Bible Studies

                                                                  cookie decorating

 Anyone free to babysit three adorable kids at the last minute?

                        How about one with a fever? An E.R. nurse in training doesn't even flinch.

                                                How about a week at a time?

                         You girls ROCK (and have probably saved our marriage a couple of times. :-)

                                       

       

                                                         Shandon House Ministry Night

                                                  Fun Day Sunday by a real artist

                                                           Worship and reflection night

                                                                  Tea Party Birthdays

                                                                  a little extra sparkle

You have all stepped out of the boat and are walking beautifully.......

You are GIRLS WITH PEARLS of wisdom of your own to share now. 

Go pour your life into some other girls and tell me how the journey is going.

With love, always,

Taryn

a secret admirer

Yesterday I received a surprise in the mail...a sweet note from "a secret admirer".  I can narrow my guesses down to about 5 great girls that I know were involved in both of the events mentioned. The thing that thrilled my heart, was that these events were a while ago, and yet, this young friend still took the time to send a hand-written card, and even chose to leave her name off so that no credit could be given.

I receive a lot of joy from being able to use dance to honor God. That is a reward in itself. But it is still extra-nice to have someone take the time to say "thank you". That's even better than your name in the program, or your picture on a poster.

God, whom should I be encouraging today?

I was thankful to be able to use my training alongside my good friend and mentor at our women's retreat this spring

Singing Christmas Tree 2011...adoring Jesus

Tiny Dancer

My six year old drew this design on my hand.

I had drawn a small heart on her hand with glitter so that she could see it, remember how proud we are of her, and not be nervous when it came her time to dance in the school talent show. No small feat of courage for a girl in kindergarten. (She did great!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWr-PnGER4s&feature=youtube_gdata_player

She had trouble drawing a heart, so I suggested a flower instead. After a day or so, part of the design rubbed off and people began commenting on the intricate dancer design on my hand. If you look closely, it looked like a ballerina doing a pirouette with arms extended.

I loved it!

So many times we set out to do one thing and accidentally arrive at another. I love how God uses small things to direct our path, even when we are not aware of it.

Put Some Tape on It

Before we were forty, we never much thought about medical issues. Now that we are forty, I am reluctantly acknowledging that this magic age is indeed working some of it's "magic" on me as new things start to creak that never creaked before.

My husband is a lot like my good friend and running buddy. Although my running buddy and I only have one half-marathon under our belts, we gained a lot of memories, aches and pains through that one training experience. We learned that the best part about long runs was the two hours that we had to talk without anyone interrupting us. The worst part about running two hours is that we kept getting injured. I had plantar fasciitis, a hamstring injury so high up I couldn't show you where it was, and bruised toenails. Her IT band was giving her fits. And, as many things as we have in common, we laughed about how different we are when it comes to dealing with medical issues. At the first sight of injury or discomfort, my friend was quick to make doctors' appointments, which lead to PT appointments, shots of cortisone goodness, and a rolling the sore muscles and stretching regimen. I, on, the other hand, ordered a role of kinesio tape and chugged a few Advil. Although our injuries were different, it became a standing joke between us, "Just put some tape on it. You'll be fine!" We calculated that we could have flown to Europe on vacation for what she spent on medical bills, and agreed that the next time we felt like we needed to take on a challenge to prove that we were still alive and well at 40, we would call a travel agent instead.

Notice how BOTH of our numbers had the significant number 40 in them!

My husband is much like my friend in the due diligence department. He is also very active, and at the first site of a potential problem, visits the doctors, gets the scripts for PT, goes to the therapy appointments (but rarely does all the exercises he is assigned for homework), ices the injuries, drinks the juice, and takes the meds. I see how things go on their own first. Is it really that bad? (A year later my left hamstring is still tweaky on the hills...so, yes, something did go wrong there.) Since I go to the GP so infrequently, the receptionist always takes a while to find me in their computer system. (I know. Count your blessings, name them, one by one.) "Mrs. Davis, it looks like the last time you were here was in 2004."

I think this difference is partially a product of the way we were brought up, and part personality. My husband's mom was a nurse...everything was carefully examined with a medical eye. My mom grew up in the country. Her mother and sister were actually nurses too, but the country philosophy was more along the lines of "You're not that bad. You're going to be okay. Quit crying."

We didn't go to the doctor for every little sniffle...of course when I broke my arm roller skating, and when my brother needed stitches, or if there was really something bothersome, we went and were treated. (Let it be known, however, that I was the FIRST one to ask for an epidural when it came to birthin' babies...I love anesthesia! I love hospitals. I love doctors who can help when I know there is a problem.)

This "When do you go to the doctor?" difference has also rolled over into our parenting. I was recently chided at a visit to our pediatrician for not having been seen in quite some time for one of my children's well visits. Might have to cave on that one since we are friends and I want to stay in his good pediatric graces. It's a strange concept for me in all those in-between years when the immunizations are done for a decade, and no one needs an antibiotic or strep culture. Seems like we're there all the time for the other stuff.

On the other hand, I had to chide my Mom, who fell down the stairs a few years ago and broke her sternum. Although she was in great pain, she didn't bother to call anyone and we didn't even know that she was hurting until the next day. Instead of calling for help, she managed to crawl over to the kitchen door and unlock it and then waited it out until morning. Wouldn't want to bother anybody at nighttime, would we? She said that she wanted to unlock the door to make it easier for someone to get in the next day in case she died during the night!!!

Steel Magnolias

Some say being a red-head is being born stubborn, willful, and feisty. Now that we are getting older, Mom and I, we might have to rethink some of our practices and schedule a few more preventative appointments. It's probably a good idea for me to make that first dermatologist appointment since I am red-headed and fair-skinned. Most of my childhood summers in Florida were spent drenched in the goo of an aloe plant, so there is a good chance that some sun damage could show up. I don't want to bother with the appointment, but I probably will soon to help ensure that I am around a little while longer if there does happen to be an issue that I'm unaware of at the moment.

Perhaps that is part of my problem. I am not a worrier by personality. I am not worried about all the things that might be. I could say that I have great faith, but I think it's more accurate to say that God has created me with enough faith to walk hand in hand with Him through whatever may come. I love being alive, yet at the same time, I have no fear of death, only the fear of leaving my husband and children in a lurch if something did happen to me that could have been prevented. So, because I love you family, who can recommend a good dermatologist?

There's enough grace for you, too

You would think that I would learn more about grace from an Easter service than from making a mistake. Yet, our God is a careful teacher, and He knows exactly what lessons I need to learn.

You may remember that I left the iPad my husband gave me in a hotel room a few weeks ago. We did everything possible to track it down with no success. Calls were even made to the owner of the hotel that a family member happened to know. 'Twas lost.

My husband has ordered another iPad for me. Instead of being joyously happy and appropriately thankful, I felt ashamed. What he freely offered again, as a gift, I had a hard time accepting. I didn't want to be the girl who lost the expensive gift. I wanted to be the girl who generally has it together and is RESPONSIBLE.

I realized that this reaction says something about my character development that is still in need of developing. I don't like being the one who makes mistakes. I have a somewhat inflated sense of self that has a hard time accepting grace extended to me. Not Grace with a capital G. I'm fully aware of being a sinner who needs Jesus's gift of eternal redemption. It's everyday here and now grace that I struggle with. Perfectionism clubs me with shame whenever I make a mistake.

 The interesting thing is that I can extend to others what I am not yet able to extend to myself without considerable effort. Our oldest daughter dropped her i-touch on the tile floor and the screen cracked. She had it out of the protective case and knew the consequences of dropping it would mean that she would be responsible for the repairs. When we got an estimate on the cost of the repair job, it would have wiped out her savings, and so she tearfully chose not to have it repaired. Then came Easter. In her basket, behind the Ikea Swedish chocolate bunny was an envelope with this message: "Your debt has been paid. I love you, Jesus"...and the newly restored i-touch inside. What gave me joy to extend, as Jesus has done for me, is hard for me to extend to myself.

 I'm 40 years old and still not sure why I am this way. It wasn't my parents' fault. They cheered for me and encouraged me in whatever I tried. My teachers applauded my accomplishments and gave me awards and scholarships. No one ever said, "You're not allow to screw up." And yet, somehow an internal voice, one not of God, impressed upon me that unwritten code... A law that binds. "You're not allowed to carry around ten extra pounds. You're not allowed to have a messy house. You're not allowed to have kids that are mean to one another and say hateful things in conflict. You're not allowed to be a slacker. You're not allowed to make careless mistakes." While on one level these thoughts can be helpful goals of life to attempt to follow, pursuing excellence, on the other hand, they can flare up out of control as perfectionism if improperly perceived as rules. If my kids are mean to one another then that makes me a bad mother. If the laundry is not done, then I don't need to be sitting down enjoying a good book. If I lose something, then I don't deserve another luxury item while millions of people don't even have clean water to drink, much less the latest electronics.

Perfectionism.

 It saddens me a little to see all three of our children struggle with the same internal battle at a young age. As much as we strive to parent with grace, all three have shown this same tendancy to be hyper-critical of themselves in some areas. I've watched all three at various times, as young as the age of three, crumple drawings in anger and hurl them across the room because they weren't satisfied with their results. I've seen outright temper tantrums on sports performances that were less than desirable. All the pep talks in the world can't convince a child who is angry with self that it's ok to not be a winner some days. Because not winning seems to make one not a winner.

 The thing that most alarmed me was our firstborn child who over-reacted when she made an A-. When I saw her disappointment and the blaming of other things out of her control, I questioned her, "Would God love you any less if you made a B? Would we love you any more if you had made an A+?" And although she could answer no to those questions, she softly mumbled..."but I couldn't forgive myself." It looks like we're all going to end up on the couch over this issue of perfection. But then I remember that there is grace for each one of us...even when we're trying so hard to do the right things, and we still fail, or just make mistakes. Face to face with our brokenness. We are not people who have it all together. We are not the "good girls and good guys". We are poor and needy in our dressed-up self-sufficient selves.

Grace is not just for eternity. Grace is for the here and now. It is God who draws us, and God who keeps us, and sustains us by His grace. When I am a terrible parent, God is still loving and keeping my kids, and giving me the desire to pray for His help and guidance. He reminds me in my shortcomings that He never intended me to try and parent on auto-pilot without His help. When I am selfish, it is God who is still working in our marriage and helping me seek reconciliation. Even when I lose an iPad in a hotel, it is God who didn't choose to send it back to me as I had hoped, but offered me another one...illustrating once again how much I need Him every hour, and how He loved to do even more than I can ask or imagine.

Our great God. You are truly amazing.

Michael Jordan on Failure Management

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45mMioJ5szc

Cereal Night

Cereal, anyone?

"This is the best dinner EVER!"

My husband is in Houston on business.
My daughter is spending the night over at a friend's house.
When the two left at home with me lamented their fate at having nothing fun to do, I suggested having cereal with banana night, and when I cheerfully agreed to let them throw in two teaspoons full of sugar (like only Daddy is allowed to do) they were ecstatic. Even called their Dad with the news, and licked the bowl clean of sweet syrupy residue.
I guess it's all a matter of perspective.

I think of various friends and acquaintances who travel extensively with their kids any chance they can.

One family took their kids to Hawaii.
Another to New York to see Broadway plays.
Others went to the beach in NC.
We stayed here and had cereal night!

We did read a series of books together and watched the movie. This opened up some good conversations, and my daughter and I continue to think about the characters and the choices they had to make.
We took horseback riding lessons and learned how to groom and tack horses and hung out in the barn with the farm animals on the day when we were rained out.
We had sleepovers and playdates and shopped for clothes that fit.
We spent a day at the lake and caught some fish and learned to watch out for snakes under docks.
We played with kids we had never played with before.
We had icees in Walgreens while we waited for our oldest daughter's passport picture to be processed for our future adoption trip.
We had Easter devotions and prepared our hearts for Sunday.
One kid is even lucky enough to go to Carowinds with the fun friends tomorrow.
But the thing that they just had to call Dad about was...cereal night!

Sometimes I wish that we were the family that likes to bring all our kids everywhere all the time. But our experience has been that if we paid the money to fly to Hawaii, the kids would want to spent most of the time in the pool at the hotel, and we can do that here without the tickets.

My neighbors took their family on a cruise to Europe last summer. When their youngest daughter who was ten at the time came over to play with our oldest daughter, I asked her what she learned from such an amazing opportunity. She thought carefully over the deluxe vacation and said, "Well, I learned that the pizza in Italy is better than the pizza in Spain." That cinched it for me. We can wait.

They say they're not having any fun, but I don't believe them!

Jane

Tiny tea parties

Dad and Grandmama actively watching B's game, big sister reading a book

Do these glasses make me look as smart as I really am?

Gardening lessons

I have a mother-in-law who loves me.

Don't hate me because I'm blessed. I seem to be one of the very small number of women who are this fortunate.

We came up to the lake to visit her today, and she had three gifts for me: a mug about being a daughter-in-law, a raspberry scone that she brought home from the hospital bakery, and a cultivated wisteria that is supposed to be non-invasive. (I think she must be one of the four people who read this blog too :-) She showed the kids what mint, oregano, and rosemary smell like from her garden. She took time to explain to me what to do with the daffodils I planted now that they have finished blooming. She showed me how she gets her egg salad chopped extra-fine. She played Clue with us at the kitchen table. She oversaw the kids painting projects, and made them sandwiches while I had the luxury of sitting on the porch and finishing a book, clearing out emails, and reading some of the thousand things I have pinned on pinterest and not yet perused. She even moves vases of cut flowers around to where I can enjoy them too. What a gift.

I hope that I remember her example when it is my turn to be a mother-in-law and a grandmother. I hope I remember what kind of scone the girls my sons marry one day prefer. I hope I desire to be available and interactive with the large number of grandchildren we could potentially have now that we are going to be a family of seven! Thank you, Jane, for loving all of us. May I follow in your footsteps well.

oregano, rosemary, and mint