Wednesday

What I love.

I have been thinking long and hard about what I love the last week or so. I think that it is soooo important to consciously think about what it is that we love and take stock once in a while.

So, I thought I'd take a minute to write down a few of the things that I love.

I love moonlit hottubbing with my husband.
I love making big breakfasts for my family and anyone else who might be coming by.
I love walking my dog in the morning when not a lot of other people are around.
I love the smell of Texas Pecan coffee brewing in my kitchen.
I love the smell of fabric softener.
I love fall in Texas.
I love walks on the beach and going to the lake.
I love going to Galveston Island and looking out over the water and knowing that God knew how I would feel about that place, and He had me in mind when He made it.
I love that my kids love to bless me...and that even when they have been especially selfish they always manage to pull something out that shows me that I AM a good mother.
I love going to sleep every night knowing that the person I love most in the world is lying next to me~ and I love the way that every night I know his feet will find mine under the covers.
I love the friends that I have and the place that each one fills in my life.
I love the smell of a book store and the crisp feel of pages in a brand new book.
I love pens and paper and the vast possibilities that they hold when put together.
I love my dad. I love that he is a good man and that I can be proud to be his daughter.
I love REO speedwagon, and I love that my dad and I and my kids and I share that.
I love IHOP at 11:00 at night.
I love that I am married to someone who has incredible vision for the future and that everything he has vision for has me written all over it.
I love rainbows and everything that God meant for them to stand for.
I love that prayer is so powerful and that God longs to answer every prayer that I throw his way.
I love that I am not who I was.
I love that my husband leaves his socks laying around, and that my daughter takes my shoes and that my other daughter always takes my favorite pen and that my son cannot ever remember to put his bowl in the dishwasher and that my bonus daughter calls me whenever she needs someone to gripe to, and that my dog takes my shoes and that my other dog will not stay out of my bed because all of these things, that might on the surface appear to be frustrations, are the very things that remind me that I am blessed with a house full of people/dogs that love me~ and people/dogs that want to be loved by me.

It is true that I may not be able to find my shoes or my pen and I may be caught morning after morning picking up things that I did not leave out of place...but more than that I am incredibly aware of God's heart for me because of the people that He has put in my life. I am aware that I am needed and loved and trusted, and that is very good!

Monday

Dreaming.


So. When Brent and I got married we lived in a house that was ours. Well, actually it belonged to the bank...but you know what I mean. In 2003 we sold the house that we loved due to a set of circumstances that just put us in a hard place.

It ended up being a good thing because it brought us to Texas, but after 5 years of being renters it has really reminded us of how much we loved owning our own home. We have done so much talking and looking at houses, with no real fruit coming from it. I had no idea how far this dreaming was going to take us~

One night we were at dinner and I took a piece of paper out of my purse and a pen and we started brain storming all of the things that we want in a house. Our lists differ a little, but by and large they are the same. We want to be in a certain part of town, we want to keep the kids in their school district. I want a library for my books, and he wants a circle driveway. I want 2 fireplaces, and a window seat where I can sit and read my books. I want an amazing view out my office window where I can look when I need inspiration for something to write about. Brent wants vaulted ceilings, hardwood floors and a 3 car garage~ with lots of space for him to work on projects. He also wants a place to build a tree house for the kids.

The more that we thought, the more our ideas started to shift. Instead of looking at houses we started looking at pieces of land and house plans. In the natural I cannot see how any of this works out, but that is the awesome part. I believe in a super-natural God...so maybe I don't have to understand how it all works. So far we have found a piece of land next to a quaint little lake that is smack in the middle of town...right where we want to live. It has the coolest street name (which was one of the things that I wanted on my list). AND to top it all off, the other day when Brent was online looking at houses and I was sitting at the desk going through a floor plan book~ he showed me a house that he wanted...and it just so happened to be the exact same house I had marked in the book I was looking at! Now we know what we want... I can't wait to see what God has to say about it!!

Sunday

What I Want..

A little while back I was asked to speak at a breakfast. I was nervous about what I would say, and my best friend was going to be there, so that old "fear of man" issue set in. But as I prayed through what it was I wanted to say, this scripture came to mind~

John 1:37~ “When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus. Turning around Jesus saw them following & asked them ‘What do you want’?”

All sorts of thoughts went running through my head when I meditated on this verse. First of all it is extraordinarily clear to me that Jesus did not have to turn around to know that they were there. He also did not have to ask them what they wanted to know exactly what they wanted.

It got me to thinking, when we come to Him, Jesus doesn’t have to turn around to know that we showed up. We each come to Him for a very different reason, for our own purposes, for our own needs. Each of us got our own invitations from the Lord, and we choose to respond. Just like he asked them that day, I think that he is asking us that same question: What do you want? Why are you following me? He knows, he has always known. But he so badly wants us to have that conversation with him.

As I was reading over this scripture I started mulling over what it is that I want from Jesus and my relationship with Him. This is the short list I came up with.

I want to have patience~ abundant, overflowing patience. For every one in my life, for every situation.

I want to be able to love others well, the way that Jesus does. The way He loves me. Seeing beyond faults and mistakes. Seeing beyond people’s idiosyncrasies that I don’t understand. I want to just be able to love their soul and their spirit from the start.

I want to be able to forgive people without needing an apology. I want to be able to say I forgive well because I am acquainted with what I am forgiven of. I may be far removed from that situation but I am intimately acquainted with every mistake that I have ever made and I am forgiven of every single one, but I remember, and because I remember the forgiveness I am able to give it.

And lastly, I want to be able to see the people in my life….with an eternal perspective. The way that Jesus sees them. Not just to hear they are hurting, and respond out of this is what is best for NOW, or this will fix it right now. But to be able to see them with an eternal perspective so that I can approach them on that level. That I can see them the way that Jesus sees them. That I am not just concerned with their right now, but I am concerned about their forever. I want that . I want that for myself and I want that for those around me.

So, if Jesus were to be standing in front of you right now, asking what you want from Him, what would you say??

Tuesday

It's all in how you remember

If you know or if you don't...we are knee deep in the process of hubby adopting my (our) son. There are so many parts of this that are hard, and the whole thing has just reopened wounds that have long since been covered with band aids that were not the right size.

Tonight as my son and I were laying on my bed talking, I brought up the subject of the adoption. He has gone up for prayer twice in the last month at church, and so I figured that it was time for him and I to talk about it. As I thought, there was a lot of things riding under the surface. At the beginning of the process he appeared to be taking it all really well...but now there are thoughts~ so many thoughts that he has. And I have many of my own.

But tonight we were able to go to a place that was really raw with each other. He told me that he missed his biological father. (OUCH) I thought for a moment before speaking and told him that I figured it was "the idea" of said biological father that he misses~ not the actual person because they have not seen each other in 14 years. Mike has no memory of him...for that I am thankful. As we spoke longer he agreed that he does not remember...that what he thinks about is what I told him~and that got me to thinking.

So I told Mike that it is hard for me because I do remember~ I remember that day when it happened. I remember holding him in my arms when he died, and looking through the emergency room window as they were working on him...wondering if they would be able to save him. I remember him being in a coma for 6 days and the nurse telling me that if he did not open his eyes that day, that the next day I would have to make decisions about signing papers to have his life support turned off. I remember those things...he does not. His memory of this is that of a story that he heard, like it happened to someone else. And that is how he thinks about it...in the distance.

But it is not distant to me. When I think about it too long, I can see him that day when I walked in the house. I can feel the weight of him in my arms as I drove him to the hospital. I feel almost haunted by the sounds of the death rattle. More than anything I want to forgive my ex-husband. More than that I want to forgive myself for leaving him at the house that day. I want my mom to forgive me for asking her to babysit him while I went to the Dr's office.

I just want to be forgiven. I want to forgive because I know that Christ forgave me first. But every June 1st it comes back. A reminder of how the door to my childhood and innocence was slammed shut behind me like the iron doors of a prison. The saddest part of that is that I know the door is open...but I just can't seem to find my way out...

But my son...my son is not angry, he does not feel like his insides have been ripped out. He just knows that he is loved, by his Dad, the dad who held him when he was sick. The dad who taught him how to ride a bike and tie his shoes, and climb trees and fish and hunt and drive the car into the driveway! The dad who has been there every day, day in and day out. Loving him the best way that he knows how.

It really is all in how you remember... and as I write this tonight, I am doing my best to remember that The same God that saved my son and breathed life back into his body that day in the hospital is the same God who wants to give me back everything I've lost.