My Best Intentions

I have this strange sort of hobby of collecting quotes.  Pinterest has become a place to go when I want to be fed with quotes.  Most people I know, know what Pinterest is at this point.  If you don't, then find out.  However, I suggest setting a timer before you do or else an hour will go by and you will look much like a child who just wasted time playing video games...sort of glazed over and overwhelmed.  After too much Pinterest time you could probably drive yourself to Ikea with your eyes closed, ready to purchase bookcases and pillows, and any other organizational items that have poured into your brain.  Many people go to Pinterest to find decorating ideas or recipes, which it's amazing for, but I find that my most-filled "pinboard" is all the quotes I collect.  

I was reading my collection of quotes today.  I signed off Pinterest feeling inspired and also trying to figure out how I could turn my collection into wallpaper so that I could wake up to see all those amazing words around me at any given moment. If I figure that out, or get the green light from John, I will post it here.

There seems to be a buzz word making its way into my thought process as of late--and I find it in my quote collection.  It's intention.  I'm hearing it in sermons, songs, and on other blogs too.  I keep underlining it when I see it.  This word is floating around my world.  If I were to do a dot-to-dot each time it appears, what picture would emerge?  It's an interesting thought, but like the quotable wallpaper, I don't have an answer.  

This is making me think more about this word though.  I thought a lot today about what it means to live with intention.  Some people probably think intention means to create your own fate.  Others will ask a question like "do you have good intentions?"  Intention is actually defined as "a purpose or goal."  Medically, intention is defined as "an aim that guides action."  As I am relating to this word, for this season of my life, I like the medical definition.  I want to live my life with intention...meaning purpose behind my actions.

If you could make a difference in your life would you?  Yes, you read that right.  I heard someone say today that sometimes we are the someone we have been waiting for.  We spend all this time waiting for someone else to come along to inspire us or challenge us.  But, perhaps we are what we've been waiting for.  As I rethink that idea of intention I realize that if I live in an intentional way I can make a big difference in my own life.  

Intention is what makes me succeed in so much of what I accomplish in a day.  I intentionally finish the laundry and put it away.  When I don't intentionally do that, small mountains form on our living room chair and then John makes it his intention to clear it. Intention is what helped me change my diet and lose 50 pounds.  Intention is what has kept that weight off.  I intentionally seek new information; and I intentionally challenge myself to learn. 

Currently I am placing a LARGE amount of intention on taming my tongue.  We had an amazing message at church in this area.  I felt like I was smacked across the face with this information.  Not to mention that when I opened up my study for my Ladies Group and it was the SAME message using the SAME scripture verse.  No pain, no gain right?  

I could make this post about speaking kind words (which I will do at a later post), but this post is more about intention.  I have to intentionally learn to control my tongue, to not gossip, to use my words to speak life into those around me, to not criticize, etc.  

This is not going to be easy.  I am intentionally posting this on the blog for my own accountability.  I want to make a difference in my own life.  I'm not going to wait for someone else to inspire me to use my words in a better way. I need to live with intention in this area.  

My mom and my grandma both always repeated that old adage, "if you can't say anything nice than don't say anything at all."  That doesn't mean it's a pass to become fake, it's just means intentionally choosing words that offer truth, help, inspiration, necessary information, and kindness.  In other words, to THINK before speaking.  I don't expect to become an overnight success at this.  I just expect to wake up each day better than the day before.  

This was a quote I read last week:  

                     "Wisdom is having a lot to say, but choosing not to say it."  

Guess, what?  It's unknown who said that.  Doesn't it just figure?  Here's the verse I mentioned too (and I posted a bit more than what I initially studied).

James 3:8-16 (The Message)

 ^7-10This is scary: You can tame a tiger, but you can't tame a tongue—it's never been done. The tongue runs wild, a killer. With our tongues we bless God our Father; with the same tongues we curse the very men and women he made in his image. Curses and blessings out of the same mouth!
 ^10-12My friends, this can't go on. A spring doesn't gush fresh water one day and brackish the next, does it? Apple trees don't bear strawberries, do they? Raspberry bushes don't bear apples, do they? You're not going to dip into a polluted mud hole and get a cup of clear, cool water, are you? 
^13-16Do you want to be counted wise, to build a reputation for wisdom? Here's what you do: Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It's the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts. 

Thank you, thank you for reading.

Remembering Mary

My mother-in-law passed away very unexpectedly on Saturday morning.  She was 76 years old.  Our family is deeply saddened by this loss.  We returned last night from being in Ohio to be with family, friends and to honor her life in a memorial service.  Seeing old friends was comforting; and being with extended family always leaves me feeling very loved. 

My in-laws were so very special to me.  I loved them as much as my own parents.  I'm finding some comfort now in knowing that they are together.  They will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary on June 2nd among the stars in the sky.

I spoke at the memorial service Saturday.  I am posting what I wrote and read at the service here on the blog. 

Thank you to each of you who has prayed for our family.

Think for a minute of your mother-in-law.  What thoughts or feelings come to mind?  Unfortunately, for many of us it might not be pleasant.  Society even stereotypes mother-in-laws in a negative light.  I even remember a movie that was released a few years ago called Monster-in-Law.  Lucky for me, I never had to relate to such characteristics.  My mother-in-law, Mary, was very kind.  Mary was so supportive to me and was someone I could really lean on. 

As I have reflected on my feelings the past few days I have come to the conclusion that there are two parts of Mary’s character that really stand out to me.  Mary was very sentimental and very consistent.  When I think of what I want Elliot and Sydney to remember about Mary, it’s these two characteristics.  That may sound like a dry way to describe someone but I have reasons for both and I promise there is nothing dry about it. 

Our memories of Mary will include things like:

• She and Gary’s trips to visit us in Virginia
• The kids’ excitement to get their Target gift cards in the mail for Christmas
• Homemade meals including the best pot roast and noodles you could ever eat
• Berk’s County Filling at Thanksgiving
• Fancy bakery cakes for the kids’ birthdays
• Bacon sandwiches on cinnamon bread for breakfast
• Chinese takeout lunches
•  Rotolo’s pizza dinners (I think we have a record set for the number of pizza's ordered from their phone number)
  
• Watching Dancing with the Stars together with an occasional glass of wine; Mary's with an ice cube
  
•  Reading cooking magazines and collecting recipes

Mary absolutely loved to cook.  She would plan out the meals for our visits and have all the grocery shopping done a week before we arrived.  Every time we talked on the phone she was excited to share each meal she had and what she planned to cook next. 

One verse keeps making its way into my head and my heart.  It’s Luke 12:34 and it says “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”  Mary loved cooking for sure, but what she really treasured was her family.  This was so evident as we went through some things in her room this past week.  She saved everything with family significance.  She even treasured things that may not have been deserving of being treasured.  Mary’s heart was her family, her treasure.

That’s why on our birthdays we received the most beautiful cards, and she sent them a week early—she treasured us.  That’s why she stayed with me for a week after Sydney and Elliot were born; cooking potato rivil soup, doing laundry, and cleaning my house—she treasured being a grandma.  That’s why on the day John left Ohio to move to Virginia she was so open with her emotions (which was not something she often did)—she treasured being a mom to her son.  That’s why she checked Laura’s Facebook almost hourly and loved having her all to herself on Laura’s days off—she treasured being connected to her daughter.  That’s why she anticipated Sue’s early morning phone calls—she treasured that time visiting on the phone; chatting about cooking and hearing Sue tell her about the animals at the shelter.  Sue, she treasured having you in her life.

This treasuring was a consistent nature that Mary had.  Her consistency comforts me.  I always knew that when I walked into the house I would find Mary sitting in her chair in the dining room, watching one of her favorite shows, ready to cook the next meal.  She had such a routine about her days and her life.  But it wasn’t routine out of habit—it was part of her consistent nature.  I think it was because she knew where her treasure was…it wasn’t on outside things or things that would fade away like fads or material things.  She treasured us, we had her heart and in that she was able to live life so consistently. 

Mary loved the blog I write.  I found a folder in the house of the blog posts that she had printed out.  I reread an entry that I wrote about Gary’s passing.  In that entry I quoted something from Anne Lamott, one of my favorite authors.  I will close with that quote because it is so fitting for today.

"You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."

Dream a Little Dream

God has a funny way of bringing things back into our line of sight over and over when they are really meant to be.  This can be a good thing, and in some instances not such a good thing.  For me, this particular post is about something that was brought back after spending years being seen by my mom-eyes--you know the ones that you grow in the back of your head once you become a parent.  I see things back there but it's not always the thing I am focused on.  Unless of course it's Elliot about to combine all the materials in his chemistry science kit into one test tube, then it becomes my main focus, but that's another story.

Back in September Lifepoint was fortunate enough to have Pastor Daniel deliver a sermon series called "Living the Dream."  Along with the messages was a group study.  We spent six weeks learning about dreams and what God "dreams" for our lives.  To say it was great would be an understatement.  I was just living my "ordinary life" and God came along and reignited this dream I had.  By about week 3 I knew a dream I had placed on the back burner was beginning to boil over.  I took a leap of faith and pursued it. 

I majored in Spanish Education and psychology in college (perhaps only one reason it took me more than 4 years to graduate--writing that with sarcasm).  It was my dream to teach high school students and eventually become a school psychologist.  The Living the Dream series and study could have reignited my desire to pursue my Masters Degree so that I could get into teaching and counseling; however, I knew that season had not yet arrived.  But, I realized I was at the perfect place in my season in life to start living the root of my dream--working with high school students.  What a light bulb moment!

I have this passion inside me for high school students. I love young people and want to make an eternal impact.  I shared with my Ladies Lifegroup my desire to live this dream.  Their support indicated that I was headed in the right direction. Since December I have been leading a Student Lifegroup of upper level high school girls.  

These girls are nothing short of amazing.  They have big hearts and many wear their emotions on their sleeves.  I remember being that age...feeling scared, insecure, and trying to figure out "who am I?"  These girls inspire me though.  They are rooted by their faith.  They take risks and live life in bold ways.  I am honored to know them and even more honored to lead them.  Surely they will leave a lasting imprint on my heart after they graduate.

It's amazing to me that out of courage (because believe me I was somewhat scared to follow this dream) has become something great and has the potential to make a big difference.  My hope is that I can reach the heart of one of these girls that really needs reaching.  I want my home to be a place where they can share and grow.  I want this group to be a place where they realize a dream that God has for their life.

In one of the messages Pastor Daniel said, "courage to execute the dream is the difference between a man that makes a difference and a man that doesn't."  Here's to hoping I'm making a difference.  And, here's to hoping being part of a small group grows the courage they need to execute their dreams.

When was the last time you explored what dream there is for you?  Are you living a dream?

Thanks for reading.

I'm a Waffle, nice to meet you

I read a devotional not too long ago that must have been inspired by a book called Men Are Waffles, Women Are Spaghetti.  And, it really got me thinking.

I am interested in how people are wired…a sort of, why do we do what we do?  I’m also highly visual.  This short devotional provided me with both a descriptive and visual look at the differences between men and women.  Basically Bill and Pam Farrel (authors of the book) describe that men have compartments.  “Men process life in boxes.”  Each box is separate and holds a particular thought, interest, or part of who they are.  Men seemingly have one thing on their “plate” at a time.  Women on the other hand are like spaghetti.  Each noodle in the bowl runs alongside or is intertwined with another.  It seems that women are able to multitask easier than men; and many parts of what women think, feel, and process intersects with another.  If something emotional happens to a man he is able to compartmentalize it and then deal with it at a later time—it may not affect his mood or daily routine.  Women on the other hand run through various thought processes at the same time.  Women may find themselves affected by a rough morning for the rest of their day.  

Now, the devotional I read was not written by the book authors.  The devotional author has a different thought to this subject and one that I find myself understanding.  The point of the devotional is that she had this “ah-ha!” moment because she doesn’t consider herself spaghetti.  She spent a lot of her adult life wondering why she didn’t fit in and didn’t relate as well to other women.  She was made more like a waffle.  As I read her words, I could feel my eyes growing narrower as I processed her words.  My conclusion is that I too am more like a waffle.  Well, sort of.

Multitasking is something I do well.  I am one of those women that can fold laundry, watch TV and break up an argument between my kids all at the same time.  The other morning I was cleaning up breakfast while the kids were playing in the backyard.  I overheard Elliot tell Sydney how he was going to jump off the top of the wooden playhouse while holding a large stick.  I was outside on the deck reminding him of the dangerous choice he was about to make before he had even gotten to the top of the playhouse.  His response? “I thought you were cleaning up the kitchen!”  Maybe he sees the waffle in me too, but that was a spaghetti moment.

I find myself engaged more when I get to focus on one thing at a time.  I don’t choose to multitask, but sometimes it’s what life calls for.  I certainly can switch subjects in conversation like the spaghetti woman, but I feel more fulfilled when I get to be in one compartment at a time.  Oddly enough is that I am married to a man that is more like spaghetti.  Many of John’s thoughts are connected to each other.  The happenings of life can affect him at a deep level.  He doesn’t compartmentalize as well as some men (I see this as a positive).  Taking this spaghettiness into consideration helps me to understand a bit of why he does what he does.  John is so good at linking together the logical, emotional, and spiritual aspects of issues (something that the book authors claim spaghetti does well).  I am not as good at connections.  For me, things are more separate, more boxy.   

What happens to waffles is that those little boxes can fill up with syrup.  The syrup of life sometimes gets poured on us even when we say we’ve had enough.  My compartments become full and then the syrup runs over into the next box.  This can create a bit of a mess, which I think is why some days I may feel overwhelmed.  I need a little extra time to soak up some of the syrup.  This is when I lean on my husband (and especially on God).  John helps me process the extra and quickly I feel less sticky.  God must really like syrup because when I go to Him in prayer, the syrup practically evaporates like water.  

Most importantly is not to try to be something we aren’t.  What food are you?  Do you tend to fall more in the category that the authors place you in?  Women are spaghetti, men are waffles.  Do you find yourself, like John and me, in the other category?  Or, are you like a waffle topped with spaghetti?  No matter, I just want to be true to who God created me to be.  

Thanks for reading and I hope you aren’t too hungry. 

The Cool Whip Diet

Do you like Cool Whip?  Cool Whip is sweet, fluffy and airy.  It’s quite the compliment to pie.  I read a really interesting blog this week about a Cool Whip diet.  A Cool Whip diet???  No, sorry the diet isn’t to eat tubs and tubs of Cool Whip.  Actually the blogger pointed out that so many of us already do just that.  She was using an analogy that we attempt to feed our hearts and souls with something that cannot fill us.  She said, “Cool Whip is tasty, but it doesn’t really contain anything that can sustain us.”  How much of the stuff that we do all day is Cool Whip?  We keep eating by the spoonful but are never satisfied. 

I’ve been on a Facebook break, a sort of fast, during Lent this year.  My grandfather was a Methodist Minister.  He passed away when I was pretty young.  One of the memories I have of him was his encouragement to make a sacrifice during Lent.  It’s funny to me that I chose to break away from Facebook before reading the Cool Whip blog this week.  There was also a video message about the “diet” that went along with the blog.  As I listened to the message I could not help but relate to some of the things being said.  I, like many people, see what gets posted on Facebook and then find myself feeling inadequate.  I was reminded that when we compare the best parts of someone else’s life against the less than best parts of our own life, we will never feel worthy.  Wow!  How did I overlook something so simple? What I had really done, like so many others, was eaten a lot of Cool Whip.  No wonder I didn’t feel satisfied.

Now, I am not saying that Facebook and other forms of social media are all bad.  There are things about Facebook that are fun!  I love to see photos of my friend’s kids that I don’t get to see enough in person.  I enjoy posting birthday wishes to friends.  I like the links people post to recipes and recommendations of good books.  It’s just that for me I was feeling the Cool Whip effect.  I was taking in a lot virtual calories, but I was STILL HUNGRY!

I can tell you since I have Facebook fasted I have made more phone calls.  I have sent personal emails.  I have reached out to friends on a more personal level.  I have read more books, more blogs, and concentrated more on my Bible study.  I have given more of my undivided attention to my family.  I’ve also felt a bit isolated, a bit out of the loop, but LESS HUNGRY! :o)

That blog and video also got me wondering what are the other areas of Cool Whip in life?  Certainly there are things we have to do.  Laundry has to get done; dinner doesn’t make itself, but, what do we do (or “eat” rather) that isn’t filling us? 

I hope this got you thinking, like it did me.  I so want to live an intentional life.  I will get back to Facebook, but it will be like the real consumption of Cool Whip in my diet…that key word my husband uses, MODERATION.

Thanks for reading.

PS, if you want to watch the video here is a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INmvnIhzxe0&lr=1

Where Are Your Roots?

Grandpa Dex delivering milk

Roots.  Some roots run really deep.  I’m amazed by the strength of some roots.  They hold strong and run deep.  A dandelion may only be a few inches tall, but removing it from the soil will sometimes show a plant with roots twice as long as the flower.  I realized the other day, as I was working though a study for my women’s Lifegroup, that I have some strong roots.  And, that can be good, but it can also impede my growth if I am not aware of how deeply I may be rooted in one area.

I have this t-shirt that has an outline of the state of Ohio (the great Buckeye State).  Near the bottom of the state line roots are growing out.  The shirt reads “Ohio Roots.”  I am proud of this shirt.  My Ohio roots go way back.  My great-grandfather, Dexter John Spaulding, was born in Ohio 116 years ago this year.  I was fortunate enough to know this great man.  He was raised by corn farmers in an area of Ohio where the soil is rich.  When we went to college he received an award for his corn farming skills.  My uncle has the framed certificate that Grandpa Dexter was awarded that reads “corn is king.”  He went on to become a dairy farmer.  On that farm was where he and my great-grandmother, Louella, raised my amazing grandma and her 2 remarkable sisters.  Spaulding Dairy was well known in Fulton County, Ohio.

When I was a kid we used to visit the family farm on weekends.  The acres of land seemed to stretch beyond what the eye could see.  The farm house was surrounded by huge walnut trees.  I remember gathering up the walnuts still snug in their outer green skins.  As a kid, that farm was heavenly—a place to run free, get dirty and make memories.  Grandpa “Dex” as everyone called him was a gentle, God-loving man.  He bought us mini crullers to eat for breakfast, played cards with us for hours, and took us bowling in the evenings.  He was a great bowler, a lefty.  This southpaw trait passed on to my mom and now to Elliot and one of my nieces.  Roots have a way of growing deep into families too.

I never dreamed I would live life outside of Ohio.  I always assumed I would raise a family in the familiar Buckeye state.  My roots were planted.  There are times though that God calls us out of the familiar.  In 2000 I moved out of Ohio to follow John, my own Buckeye, when he took a job in Virginia.  Love makes your heart grow in new ways, new roots.   

I spent many months, even parts of some years after that move, working through tears and growth—weeping as the author of the study calls it (referring to Ruth 1:7-14).  I realized after reading that passage, that part of what made that move so difficult were roots.  Firm roots in Ohio made it really difficult to plant new ones in Virginia.  I was weeping over my roots without moving forward at the same time.  It’s okay to have roots in Ohio, it’s where I was born and raised.  It’s okay to weep over that loss or to feel homesick, which I still do some days.  What I cannot do though is not have forward movement at the same time…I need to love Virginia too.  I can say that in the past 5 years I have grown to.  After all, it’s where my kids’ roots are.  Kelly Minter, the author of the study, wrote “Although there will be weeping in this life, the direction in which we weep is what truly matters.  God sees your tears.  Cry them, wipe them, feel them, but don’t let them stop you.  It’s possible to cry and walk.” 

We all face loss, pain, heartache and difficult things and places in life.  We have to keep walking forward though.  If we stop moving forward we will face defeat. 

I used to say “I’m a Buckeye at heart.”  I think now I will think of myself as a Buckeye at the root, but a Virginian at heart. 

Thanks for reading.

My Ohio Roots T-Shirt

Eight is ENOUGH!

Getting ready for smash cake!

Elliot turned 8 on the 20th of February.  Eight.  How did 8years pass by already?  In some instances I cannot figure out where the time went. Then, on the other hand I look at his baby pictures and feel like that time was a million years ago.  I can't understand it.  Every mom feels like their kids grow up too fast.  Every parent wants to keep the innocence of childhood just where it is.  Time doesn't stop though.  Our kids grow up.  We get gray hair.  Innocence is just starting to be replaced with experience.  

Some weird fluttery thing happens in my heart when I fold laundry and see that Elliot's socks are the same size as mine.  At 8, this kid can out eat me at meals.  He is a total bookworm and a real goofball.  He's wonderful.

When we brought him home from the hospital I had no idea what I was doing.  All the babysitting in the world can't prepare for parenthood.  I had expectations, such as when he would sleep though the night, that were quickly silenced by real life experience.  

I've read more parenting books than I can count  in the past 8 years.  Some have given better advice than others (best by far is Parenting With Love and Logic).  All of them have helped me in some way.  Some have just offered comedic relief (read I Was A Really Good Mom BEFORE I Had Kids...oh and read my post on it by clicking HERE).  

Foster Cline author of Parenting With Love and Logic wrote, "The greatest gift we can give our children is the knowledge that with God's help, they can always look first to themselves for the answers to their problems." What that statement says to me is that if they have a heart rooted in God they can rely on Him to look inward to first solve a problem.  Step one in making sure that happens is to point my kids toward God. I have to intentionally plant a seed in their hearts that will grow as they grow.  The years I have to prepare them for the real world are short lived!  

I want my children to be confident, self-reliant people.  I don't want to be a helicopter mom--to hover over them so they don't make mistakes; or attempt to solve their problems for them.  I know God has a plan for their lives and in that plan there will be turmoil and heartache.  There will also be happiness and blessings beyond what I can dream up. 

Elliot's first birthday was a family-filled celebration.  He got his own smash cake from Grandma Mary and was covered in frosting.  Birthday 8 was having a sleepover, eating pizza and Angry Bird cake pops.  But, under his growing exterior is still a sweet, tenderhearted kid.  He teared up when he read his birthday card from John and me.  That is the evidence that we are doing something right.   

The slogan for the Peace Corps is "the toughest job you'll ever love."  Maybe, but I think parenthood has it beat. :o)

Thanks for reading.