What I really want to say is... zzzzzz

I cannot believe how tired I was yesterday and am again today.  It's not a lack of sleep - many have asked, and I am sleeping well.  I have not needed any medications, rather I have been able to go to bed around my normal time (1130p) and get to sleep before midnight.  I have been able to sleep until at least 6 and usually 7. 

I think I am simply exhausted from the stress of the past 2 weeks.  The week mom was in the hospital, I was home with a very sick little girl (no stress from either of those, right?).  Then this week had all the stress of making decisions regarding mom's services. 

I also had a monumental challenge the past 2 evenings.  While she was here, Michell's mom Sandra did a bunch of laundry for me.  This was extremely kind of her to do.  Unfortunately, along with the girls' laundry bins, she mixed in a bin of clothes which were clean and had been set aside to put away for summer... and she mixed in a bin of clothes which were new from Christmas that I hadn't looked at enough to know what shirts go with what pants.  It was like dumping 20 puzzles together, all of which are solid red, and trying to sort out what pieces go where.  My family room floor still looks like a laundry war zone. 

Funny thing, the laundry challenge was what made me miss mom the most.  I am... shall we say... fashion-sense challenged.  Those of you who have known me a long time might remember the bright yellow shirt and bright red shorts I used to wear together.  Very Ronald McDonald.  Whenever clothes came back that I didn't know how to match, I would call mom.  And she could magically pair things up over the phone - without even seeing them!  Just another example of how she took care of me.

She would be proud of me, though.  It took me about 3 hours the first night, but I finally got Zoe's stuff matched up.  Then Rachel and I, with an hour on Skype with Sandra and 2 more hours together, got 75% of her stuff matched up last night.  Quite an accomplishment for the fashion-challenged me.  I do, however, still have 6 pairs of pajama pants missing their tops.  Anyone need some?

So if you see Rachel or Zoe (or me, for that matter) in an outfit that makes you cringe, just remind yourself that the girls are stuck with me, and let me know so that I don't embarrass them in public... or at least so I don't embarrass them that way.

Take Pictures of the Everyday

Yesterday, my sister and I spent about half a day going through pictures to use in a slide show of mom.  I already knew that mom didn't much like having her picture taken, but what I didn't realize is how often I let her get away with that.  There were even a few years where the Christmas pictures had me and my kids, Steph and her kids, and dad... but no mom.  What were we thinking?

But the more glaring thing that I realized is that while I am pretty good at getting pictures of events, I am lousy at getting pictures of the everyday.  As I went through my pictures, I found that since moving back to Tennessee in 2005, I have more pictures of Michell's parents than of my own.  Why?  Because when we saw Michell's parents, it was an event; we saw my parents every week, so that was just everyday life.

The good thing is that between Stephanie and me, we found plenty of pictures of mom - really good ones.  But from here on, I plan to carry a camera with me more often on "normal" days, so that I can capture more of our everyday life.

Finding A New Normal... Again

I thought this blog was essentially dead.  I had pretty much stopped posting here, probably because I didn't have the need for it.  Life was going well - joyful and fulfilling.  With less struggle, 10-second Facebook posts were more the norm than deep, introspective blog posts.  And then...

Most of you alreday know.  Mom passed away.  One week with her "not feeling good" and then a week in the hospital and then... home to heaven.  And the similarities to Michell's death just 3 years ago are overwhelming.  Both started out thinking it was just a muscle pull.  Both ended up in the hospital with bad bruising and extreme pain.  Both diagnosed with leukemia.  Neither surviving to start chemo.  Both having cerebral hemmorages leading to death.  I can still remember telling myself that this time (with mom) was going to be different.  Not so much.

Oh, and by the way... Worst. Birthday. Ever.  That's right, if you didn't know, mom died on my birthday.

So now I sit at home, and at times the silence is so incredibly LOUD.  I can feel how quiet it is.  It's opressive.  The girls are both in bed, both sleeping well.  The TV is off.  And I miss calling to talk to my mom.  It's one of the things that I started doing right after Michell died - I would call mom every night.  I doubt I missed 10 nights in the past 3 years.  Recently, the call had moved earlier to right after I got the girls in bed.  Last week, it emphasized that mom was in the hospital - she wasn't at home for me to call.  Now, that one simple daily phone call seems to stand for all that is wrong with the world today.  I can't talk to my mom.

I know it will get better.  I've been down this road before.  God promises to change mourning into dancing and sorrow into joy... and He does.  It's happened in my life over the past 3 years, and I know it will happen again.  I know that I will find a new normal... again.

But at this moment, I'm just hearing the overwhelming silence, and wishing I could call my mom.

Doing Hard Things

Been thinking alot lately about my personal discipline. It's not all that great, to be honest, and I want it to get better. But let's be honest, sitting on the couch thinking about having better personal discipline (while eating chips, drinking a soda, and watching TV) really doesn't get you very far - it's about actually getting up and doing something that matters. I know myself very well - for years my mantra has been "never put off to tomorrow what can be put off until next week." Admittedly not the best example to set for my girls...

Life is busy - we all know that - and it can run you down. By the time I get the girls to bed at night, I am frequently worn out and ready to check out for some down time. Is that wrong? No, I don't think so. So what's my problem? Once I start to check out, I never check back in. I sit to rest, but my rest period doesn't end until bedtime. So now I am challenging myself to get back up and do something... and it's hard.

So I heard this "do something hard" phrase a few months ago. I think it was a mother-daughter event that some friends of mine attended. I kept seeing that phrase over and over, and decided that I would adopt it into my own life. It's strange what we think of as being "hard" to do - most of my stuff is really minor, it's just stuff I don't like to do so I try to put it off until it takes care of itself (my success rate in this area is very high).

For example, I don't think it's wrong to leave the dishes in the sink until there's enough for a full dishwasher load. (Remember - we use paper plates and cups almost every meal, so it takes 2-3 days for us to accumulate enough dishes to fill the dishwasher.) I do, however, think that it's wrong to leave the dishes in the sink and hope that my babysitter decides to wash them for me because they're taking over the kitchen and leaving her in fear for her life.

So how am I doing? Pretty well on Focus #1. I've not been in the best health over the past few years - 4 surgeries (ruptured colon repaired, colostomy reversal, gall bladder removed, hernia repair) - plus my weight has gone back up in the 230s - so I decided to first focus on getting healthier. I've started swimming 1/2 mile 3 days a week, and that's going well. I've chosen to not have an evening snack more than one night a week, and that's going well. But now it's time to add another Focus and do more hard things.

So what about you? Are you doing hard things? Or are you living life on autopilot? Are your (proverbial) dishes piling up, waiting for someone else to handle them? Then join me - and do something hard. So far, it's been worth it.

Moments that Make a Daddy

Had one of those great moments this morning - a moment to make a daddy. Some of you are thinking "What? Doesn't having kids make you a daddy?" No, not really. Just "having children" means you performed the biological function of procreation. Being a daddy implies an intimate relationship, made complete by the presence of joy, care, and love. I became a father (twice over) as my children were born. I am becoming a daddy as I nurture, love, and raise my children.

And while the process is continuous - each and every moment with my children is an opportunity to move closer to (or further from) "daddy" - I also find that there are key moments that come along and allow leaps forward. Some of these moments we know are consequential, like the day I had to tell Rachel that her mommy died. Others seem completely inconsequential, just a part of everyday life... like today's

So what was it? What was this EVENT which helped propel me from "father" in a giant leap toward "daddy"? Well... I cam upstairs to tell Rachel it was time to get dressed for camp, and she said, "Oh, man. I'm thirsty. You didn't give me a drink." My response? I pulled out my "obviously-pretending-to-be-angry" voice and said, "I didn't give you a drink? What do you mean? You never asked for a drink! And you know that when you get breakfast you can get yourself a drink..." Oh, and I was tickling her the whole time. She was laughing so hard she couldn't stand up.

So how do I know that this was one of those quantum-leap events? Because every time I stopped, she asked again and egged me on to do it again. And what do I think of it? I think that for those 5 minutes this morning, I achieved near God-like "daddy" status. And it was awesome.

Speaking of God-like, you do realize that God is more than just "Father" - He is also "Daddy". I think too often we get caught up in the "Our Father" image of God and forget the "My Daddy". In Mark 14:36, Jesus calls to God as "Abba Father". "Abba" is a term that implies intimacy, closeness, and familiarity. And the use of that term is not reserved for Christ alone, Romans 8:15 tells us that we too can call to God in this way.

There are countless articles on the web about the origin of Abba - most tie it back to a term borrowed into Hebrew from Aramaic. What strikes me the most about this term is its construction - it's a word a baby can say. Just like my girls both used to babble "dada" when they were babies, so too could an baby - one who is totally helpless and dependant on others for its care - babble "abba".

So, as we walk through this life, we can babble "Abba" and connect with the Creator of the universe, and like I did this morning, He can work through everyday moments to take quantum leaps from "Our Father" to "My Daddy". And that is truly awesome.

Are your bells ringing?

Been reading my way through Exodus lately. I'm past the plagues-and-escape part, past the giving of the 10 Commandments, and working my way through the instructions for the temple. A few nights ago, I read the instructions for creating the prestly garments (Exodus 28). Now, let's be honest. This is one of those chapters that when, or maybe I should say if, we read it, we just blow through it at warp speed because it seems useless today. Why should I care? I doubt I'll ever wear an ephod (v6) - probably woudln't recognize one if I saw it - so what possible relevance could this have?

And yet, according to 2 Tim 3:16, "All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in riteousness." As I finished reading the chapter, and was reading through the sideline notes in my Bible, I was remined of something I'd heard before.

Going back to Exodus 28, down in verses 31-35, there is a discussion about the hem of the robe of the ephod. And while I still have no real clue what an ephod is, I do know what the hem of a robe is. And this particular one has bells on it - gold bells.

Now, let's be clear. Sideline notes and my fuzzy recollections of past events are NOT the same as scripture - one is a living document of truth and love, given by God through the Holy Spirit, while the other is... always questionable. But for me, right now, the relevance of this passage was revealed through that note and my memory. It had to do with the purpose of the bells, and both the note and my memory agreed - one purpose was so that when the High Priest was in the Holy of Holies, you could tell if he was still alive.

You see, in Old Testament times, God's Spirit didn't live in hearts like He does today. Back then, to be in God's presence meant death - people were just too sinful to stay alive in His presence. The High Priest went through a week-long purification period (see Exodus 29) before heading into God's presence to make sacrifices for the people. When they went in to perform the scarifice, others could listen from outside for the bells - if they were ringing, then everything was ok (the High Priest was still alive).

Another fact in my (often questionable) memory is that they would tie a rope to the foot of the high priest, so that if the bells stopped ringing, they could pull him out. Yikes.

Yeah, I know, none of that seems relevant yet. We're not living under the Old Covenant (i.e. in Old Testament times), we're under a New Covenant - one of grace and forgiveness because of Christ's sacrifice for all. But God still desires for us to be holy - set apart - riteous... He does NOT want us to sin, and He especially doesn't want us to fall into repetitive sin.

So, looking back at the title of this post, I ask myself the question: Are my bells ringing? And I candidly admit to you that this has been a bad month for me. Patterns of sin from my past, patterns that I have cast off (many times) only to have return (also many times) have once again reared up in my life, and my bells have been silenced often of late. I'm talking about that sin that "so easily entangles" me (see Hebrews 12:1), and I am again fighting to cast it off. Even as I write this, I am frustrated with how often it has overcome me lately, but at the same time I am not defeated - I am instead rededicating myself and trusting God to give me strength to overcome.

So what about you? Are your bells ringing?

What are you worth?

A few weeks ago, I was listening to the radio in the car when a discussion started about how valuable a person is. One of the central issues was salary. Are we what we make at our jobs? Is our contribution to society defined by how much that society is willing to pay us for what we're doing? As the discussion continued, some spiritual principles were hinted at, and a few were partially explored. I arrived at my destination before the discussion ended, so I don't know where it ultimately went, but it did get me thinking...

At the simplest (and most worldly) level, our society does define our worth by our salary. In this crazy world we live in, we value entertainment over learning, and so pay professional athletes more each year than teachers can make in a lifetime. We reward those who can turn "situational ethics" into personal gain, while sneering at the "free" but unparalleled contributions of stay-at-home moms.

As Christians, however, we are part of another (spiritual) society with its own set of rules. Here, Christ has turned the world upside down... reminding us that to be great, we must become servants (Mark 10:43). In fact, it could be argued that in our spiritual society, by ourselves we have no value at all! Consider John 15:5. Here Christ exhorts us to remain in Him, because by ourselves we can do nothing.

But this passage can weave a subtle trap for the unwary. How often the Devil has come and called us "worthless". How many times has the Evil One broken hearts and spirits, convincing people that they are of no value to God or to others? How many have fallen into a pit of darkness and despair, wanting only to be valued and to feel they are valuable?

But there is a great difference between the condemning statements from our Enemy and the redeeming plan of our God. God desire for us to be connected to Him, living in concert with His Spirit, following the path made possible by the sacrifice of His Son. God chose us (Eph 1:3-14) - chose us to be holy (1:4), chose to adopt us as His children (1:5), chose us for His praise and glory (1:11-12), and as a sign of our choosing, and He has given to us His Holy Spirit (1:13).

Going back to the worldly view, our value in society is based on what someone is willing to pay us for our work - in essence, who wants us and how badly they want us. How much does God want us? You can probably recite it with me... "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son..." (John 3:16).

And what is He willing to pay us? How about with direction, joy, and pleasure forevermore? (Psalm 16:11) In addition, part of His "pay" lets us ignore the whispered condemnation of the Enemy. "Whoever believes is not condemned... (John 3:18). So if the Devil says you're worthless, you know it's a lie. You want more? Maybe even a bonus check? How about this - one of many examples - back in Eph 1:3, we are promised "every spiritual blessing in Christ."

So what are you worth? In a nutshell, you're worth so much that the Creator of the Universe crashed through time and space to make a way for you to be with Him... forever.