Yada Yada Mom

Compassion Challenge: The Smiling Shamrock

2009-02-23T21:48:00.005-06:00

Today's the day! I have no idea what God will bring my way, or if I'll even respond (only being honest about my human nature). But, I prayed this morning that He would give me compassion and show me ways to act on it. I'm ready.. I think.

Our shower has been torn up, in repair mode, for eight months now. My husband's friend, who was laid off two weeks ago, has agreed to work on it, which I'm very thankful for. As I waited for him to come over, God gave me new compassion for all the people--at Steve's company and in our city, state and country--who have lost their jobs. I wish I could do more to help and comfort them. But, for now, all I know to do is pray and pay one person to do what he does so well--construction and home repair. I hope this eases his family's burden in some small way.

After a long day, Steve and I trekked to Lowe's to buy some things for tomorrow's work on the shower project. As we stood in line to pay, I realized that I hadn't done one thing all day to demonstrate compassion toward others. Discouraged, I pulled out my credit card to pay the cashier. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a sweet, smiling face on a paper shamrock hanging on the cash register. It was a solicitation; all they asked for was one dollar to send kids with muscular dystrophy to summer camp. "This is it," I thought. "This is my answer."

I felt my heart beat faster and reached frantically into my wallet. I never, I mean never, have cash, but I dug anyway and, lo and behold, there they were: two beautiful, crumpled, dingy dollar bills. I fished them out and, smiling triumphantly, thrust them toward the girl behind the counter. As my husband and I sauntered out of the store, I thanked God for that little smiling face and His answer to my simple prayer.

For more information about the Muscular Dystrophy Association, go to: http://www.mda.org/

Compassion Challenge

2009-02-22T21:26:00.010-06:00

I've decided to embark on a new 40-day challenge, starting today. I don't know exactly how it will play out, but the book I'm reading, Signs of Life by Dr. David Jeremiah, sparked the idea. The premise of the book is that, in light of society's generally unfavorable view of Christians, it is all the more important that Christians display signs that Jesus has transformed us and that we are committed to him.

The signs Dr. Jeremiah outlines are:

Dusty shoes
Worn-out knees
Rolled-up sleeves
An open hand
Outstretched arms

From what I've gathered so far, it's essentially a call to compassion-a call we all should heed. I have already been convicted. Through the years, God has given me compassion for others, but all too often I refuse to act on that emotion. I lean heavily on my myriad excuses, everything from the tired "too busy" excuse to focusing on my limited resources more than God's provision for the sick and needy, if I will only listen to the promptings He sparks in my heart of hearts.

Today is a new day, thank God, and I'm shelving those excuses. By God's grace, I'm going to refocus on what really matters, not to me-but to Him-and pray that eventually the alignment of His heart for the sick, needy, poor and downtrodden and my faith in action will produce an explosion of random kindness and healing deeds. I have to admit I'm a little scared of what God might ask me to do, or that I won't pick up His signals, or that I'll continue in my selfish ways. But fear is precisely part of the problem. Faith, not fear, is the only way to truly love others as Jesus loves each of us.

I'm starting now. Join me, please, and let me know how God's love shines through your signs of life.

Day 27: The First Step

2009-01-27T07:36:00.000-06:00

We got hit with a winter storm-complete with freezing rain, sleet and snow-so the kids are out of school today and probably tomorrow. Thank God for the food our friends brought, which we will enjoy while we're snowed in.

Today was the first day of Micah's new regimen. So far, so good. He took everything three times, just like the doctor ordered. It's hard for me to grasp that he's sick because he's so animated and energetic. The old "You don't LOOK sick" line that I've heard many times myself. I want to believe what my eyes see, that he's a "normal", healthy six-year-old boy. But, alas, blood tests and strange symptoms confirm otherwise. We were able to make an appointment with a pediatric gastroenterologist from Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City: March 2, 2:40. One more step down this long road called illness.

Thanks to all who are praying. Words can't express our appreciation.

Day 26: A Thousand Bouquets

2009-01-26T19:40:00.009-06:00

Okay, the madness has got to stop! I input the receipts into our financial software this morning. Yikes! The grand total of our four-day lack of discipline is almost $75! Proof positive that letting our convictions slide has not been worth it. We are rededicating ourselves to the cause TODAY and making conscious decisions about how we use our resources, otherwise known as practicing what we preach.

Micah's first doctor appointment, an exhausting process, was today. He was able to confirm what we already knew and gave us some more information that explains some other problems he has had in the past. He's an M.D. who practices a unique blend of complementary medicine, including homeopathy. After my gastroenterologist gave me no hope, I started seeing this doctor, who has helped me immensely over the past three and a half years. I function better now than I ever have, so taking Micah to him seems like an obvious first step. He gave us some homeopathic remedies to start him on, which feels overwhelming and empowering at the same time.

Thankfully, I didn't have to think about making dinner because some friends of ours brought pasta, veggies and bread. They also brought a breakfast casserole, bagels and cream cheese, orange juice, lunch meat, sandwich cheese and two loaves of bread. Hallelujah! We are set not only for at least two dinners, but also breakfast and lunch for a few days. Such a blessing. A word to the wise: Don't ever underestimate the power of taking a meal to a hurting person or family. In my book, a casserole is worth a thousand bouquets and faithful friends are worth their weight in gold.

Day 25: The Little Things

2009-01-25T20:51:00.003-06:00

I feel blessed, today especially, to be surrounded by faithful friends who are praying for my son, and all of us. As we entered the church this morning, we were greeted by hugs and encouraging words. But, after recounting the events of the past week at least 20 times, Steve and I were exhausted.

So, after church, we ate out again. Pushed by a sense of emotional depletion and pulled toward the proverbial "comfort" food, we opted for Wendy's chili and baked potatoes (grand total: $12.50). It's funny how the mind works, in order of priority. On January 1, our commitment to reign in our spending and improve our health seemed like a worthy goal. Today, and all this week, it has dwarfed in comparison to our now ever-present challenge: helping our son to heal. I know, intellectually, that we still need to stay on track financially, but my heart is having trouble following through. I guess grief works like that.

A friend invited me to her house this afternoon, and I'm so glad I stepped out of the fog and accepted her invitation. We took a cold, brisk walk around her neighborhood, followed by wheat toast with homemade raspberry jam and hot coca, complete with mini marshmallows. We talked while soothing music played in the background, and when I left I felt a little stronger, a little clearer, a little more convinced of God's presence during our suffering. I also got another reminder that food isn't the comforter, but that the Comforter works through compassionate people willing to offer their hearts, homes and hot chocolate to the needy.

Day 24: Oops! We Did It Again

2009-01-24T21:45:00.002-06:00

True confessions: We did it again! Our daughters are away tonight, so Steve and I stole some precious time alone with Micah. We've stumbled around, dazed, in a haze since we got "the news" so we were anxious to enjoy our evening with our son. He and Daddy wrestled, then we all snuggled on the couch and watched a movie.

Micah's favorite outing is hanging out at the Bass Pro Shop, a cross between a monstrous retail store and a wildlife museum, so when we asked him what he wanted to do tonight, we figured it was a no-brainer. But, he surprised us and said he wanted to eat Chinese food at one of our favorite haunts. Yikes, dilemma. We looked at his sweet, round face, then turned to each other and... caved. When we nodded our heads, he jumped up and down, wrapped his arms around Daddy's neck and said, "You mean we're breaking the rule for no reason at all?" Yes, we are. Again.

We started with cashew chicken and vegetable fried rice at Canton Inn, a quaint, cozy family-owned restaurant. Then we headed to Bass Pro where we gawked at the snakes, turtles, ducks and fish; "toured" pontoon boats on the showroom floor and relaxed in rocking chairs in front of the massive stone fireplace before leaving for home.

Oriental food: $14.80. An evening together enjoying our son: priceless. Especially now.

Day 23: The Unlikely Healer

2009-01-23T22:15:00.002-06:00

In the spirit of full disclosure, I am out of my mind today. I'm not sure I slept at all last night. Nausea and Kleenex are my constant companions. I can't seem to get my mind around my son's diagnosis and what it might mean for him. I'm grieving without even knowing what to grieve.

It's startling how quickly my convictions, no matter how trivial, go out the window the minute I get bad, okay terrible, news. For instance, there's my promise to myself to eat healthy. Gone. I don't care if, let alone what, I eat today. And, the only thing that sounds good is ice cream.

My family readily concurred with that assertion, so we betrayed our convictions and went out for ice cream. Actually it was frozen custard: sinfully delicious, terribly fattening, and ridiculously expensive (to the tune of $15.60, the price of about two gallons of ice cream). But we did it anyway. There's probably no doctor or counselor anywhere that would admit chocolate custard blended with raspberries and topped with hot fudge facilitates emotional healing. But you'll never convince me.

Day 22: Rules, Schmules

2009-01-22T21:27:00.009-06:00

I went out to lunch today with a friend. We had been trying to get together for a while, but our schedules usually clash. So when she had an open lunch date, I hesitated but decided to make an exception to the eating-out rule. And thank God I did.

About halfway through lunch, the doctor who's been seeing my 6-year-old son for unexplained abdominal pain called my cell phone with devastating news: My son has the same autoimmune liver disease that I was diagnosed with when he was a newborn.

As I hung up, I dissolved into tears, numb with disbelief and scared of what the future holds for him. But God had already provided for my comfort, before I even knew I would need it. My friend is a wise and steadfast Christian and just happens to be a psychologist. She listened as I lamented, reassured me of God's love and providence and prayed for me and my family in the parking lot as we left. As I drove away, I was reminded that being led by God's spirit, instead of our own self-imposed rules, opens the door for Him to work in our lives and circumstances, all in His perfect timing. What an unexpected blessing during a trying time.

Day 21: Food, Not Medicine

2009-01-21T20:12:00.007-06:00

Well, isn't this just self-discovery month for me? Not exactly what I was hoping for when we swore off eating out. Sigh. Today's "Life Lesson for Lisa" was that I use food, especially restaurant food, to self medicate when I'm sad or stressed.

Our beloved 98-year-old neighbor, Pauline, passed away and her funeral was today. Since neither she nor we have family in the area, we sort of adopted each other over the past decade. She was self-sufficient, spunky and smart. (The library delivered 12 books to her once a month, and she read every one of them.) Her stories entertained us; her independence amazed us, and her card-playing ability was legendary. (She won every time she played against my kids.) Her light shone bright in our neighborhood and in our lives. We loved her dearly and miss her already.

All that to say that I really wanted Chinese food today. I managed to convince myself that hot, steamed rice, seasoned veggies and tender chicken would heal my heart. What a sad commentary on the place food occupies in my life. My head knows that food can't comfort in the wake of grief, that Chinese take out won't bring Pauline back. But I was willing to give it a try. To be brutally honest, if it weren't for knowing I had to be accountable to others via this blog, I would have thrown my promise out the window and sprinted straight for Canton Inn.

So, maybe this month isn't about frugality at all, at least not entirely. Or, maybe our hearts' desires manifest themselves through the ways we spend money, even-maybe especially-when we're in pain.

Day 20: Give and Be Blessed

2009-01-20T11:50:00.003-06:00

I'm sipping a pumpkin spice, white mocha steamer while I blog. Don't panic; I used the Starbucks gift card I got for Christmas. I didn't spend a dime. (Gotcha!)

Purely by coincidence, I'm sure, I turned on the radio this morning to hear Dr. David Jeremiah speaking about how God blesses those who honor Him with their money. This is not the "prosperity gospel"; far from it. It's God's promise throughout Scripture to bless those who give to His work. Two examples: "A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor." (Prov 22:9, NIV) "He who gives to the poor will lack nothing, but he who closes his eyes to them receives many curses." (Prov 28:27, NIV) In describing a virtuous woman, God says in Proverbs 31:20, "She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy." Since I don't believe in coincidences and I do believe God's promises, I took that as a charge and drove to Wal Mart.

Our local Pregnancy Care Center is trying to collect one TON (that's right, 2,000 pounds) of diapers and wipes before January 31st, so my first stop was the infant aisle for three packages of diapers and three boxes of wipes. Then, I hit the grocery aisles to stock up on kid-friendly foods, like granola bars, packages of peanuts, pop-top canned chicken and pasta for a local elementary school who started a "Soul Food" program. They provide backpacks full of convenient, nutritional food every Friday to kids who might need additional food over the weekend. I didn't spend a lot, but it was one of the most heartwarming Wal Mart trips I've ever taken. For a grand total of $50.56, I was able to give hope and encouragement to a scared, young mom. God will also use that money to provide for that mother's newborn child and fill tiny tummies elsewhere in the city. What a perfect example of how a lot of people each doing a little can demonstrate God's love for ALL people, including single moms, unborn (and newborn) babies and hungry children.

I challenge each of you to start looking today for ways to give-not just money but also your time and energy. Show God's love and invest in other people's lives in meaningful ways. When you do, you don't have to worry about your needs being met. The maker and owner of ALL promises that He will provide for you and, in the process, you'll be blessed beyond measure. I know I was.

Day 19: Give Like You Mean It

2009-01-19T20:57:00.003-06:00

Today I discovered another benefit of not eating out and buying only essentials: It took me about half the time it usually does to reconcile my bank account, and we had only forgotten to write down one $3 transaction. Woo hoo! I could get used to that.

Another bonus: I can already see some progress toward our goal of giving more. We commit to a minimum amount of giving each month, but we want the freedom to give on the spur of the moment, as needs arise, not just to the ministries we partner with. Without getting into the details, an opportunity to invest in a teenager's life presented itself yesterday. If we had eaten out after church the past two Sundays, we wouldn't have been able to meet this particular need. But, for about the cost of two meals out, we can give a teenager the chance to attend a life-changing weekend event. Now that's a check I felt good about writing.

Day 18: Down, But Not Out

2009-01-18T19:00:00.010-06:00

We crashed and burned today. I did manage to resist the temptation to grab a salad from one of my favorite restaurants after church and ate leftover chili instead. But Steve got stuck in the traveling trap and ate out - twice. The family planned to meet for lunch at a Mexican restaurant to celebrate his sister's birthday. But her son got sick, and they had to run Plan B - lunch at the lone restaurant in the small town where his mom lives. They don't offer kids' meals and the only Sunday option is the buffet. So thirty dollars and a couple of hours later, my family headed for home. Steve packed leftovers from lunch and last night's party for the trip, but there wasn't enough for everyone, so the three kids each ordered two items off the Wendy's dollar menu. Soda's a real killer, in more ways than one, so we rarely ever order it. The kids don't even ask anymore.

Grand total spent on eating out today: $36. It's a little disappointing that we couldn't make it work all month, but to put it in perspective: We used to spend about $35 every week after church, so we're still almost $100 ahead. Tomorrow's a new day, and the month isn't over yet.

I've eaten up all the leftovers this weekend, so I need to hit the grocery store or our eating out grand total is going to climb.

Day 17: Pushing the Envelope

2009-01-17T21:44:00.006-06:00

I usually treat myself to Chinese take-out when my family's out of town, so this weekend is a test for me too. I ate breakfast at home, then went to the health food store to pick up some lemons and tea. I semi-cheated and bought a Thai microwave dinner for lunch instead of Chinese. It's not unlike me to push the envelope, but technically I didn't eat out. (There I go, rationalizing again.)

Steve and the kids ate breakfast at his brother's and lunch at his mom's. For dinner, the whole family congregated at Steve's brother's for our niece, Rachel's, 27th birthday party, complete with party food: sandwiches, veggies, chips and cake. My son doesn't like sandwiches, so Steve caved and bought Micah a Happy Meal from McDonald's. Not bad though. Two days down, one to go. Grand total spent on eating out: $3.50.

Day 16: Traveling: The Ultimate Test

2009-01-16T22:02:00.005-06:00

My husband and kids are leaving today to visit family in Kansas, a six-hour drive. We've been wondering how, and if, we were going to be able to stick to our resolution but decided spending time with family is, obviously, more important than spending $20 on a couple of drive-thru meals. Besides, we aren't trying to be Nazi-like or starve our children on long trips; we just want to challenge ourselves to be creative and take control of the way we use our money.

This morning, we ate a hearty breakfast of whole-grain pancakes and turkey sausage, then packed sandwiches, pretzels, Chex mix, apple slices and bottles of water for the trip. Steve called tonight and said his brother bought pizza for everyone for dinner. What a blessing! This weekend might be the toughest test all month, but so far so good. One day down, two to go.

Day 15: The Wanderer

2009-01-15T17:45:00.004-06:00

No temptation to eat out today, but I needed a couple of essentials: stamps (to mail my father-in-law's already late birthday card) and toilet paper. (No one's going to argue with that, are you?) One of the benefits of this challenge is that I'm learning more about myself and my habits, like I did today.

After school, Mackenzie and I stopped in to our neighborhood Walgreen's to pick up the previously mentioned must-have's. The employees are friendly, the store is cozy and the sales are unbeatable. TP was on an end cap, and on sale, right inside the door. Stamps are behind the checkout counter so everything I needed was within five steps of the door. That is the moment I learned that I am a wanderer.

I grabbed the toilet paper and just kept on truckin'. Toward what I don't know. Just "looking", "browsing", "checking out this week's sale items", blah, blah, blah. See how dangerous that can be? I have become so lax that it's automatic for me to get what I need, then continue to shop. Not a good idea, and not healthy for the family finances. I also learned that it really annoys my kids. (That might be the only good reason for continuing to do it. JK)

So, I'm going to implement a new habit, and a new slogan: GIGO. Pronounce it however you want, but implement it ruthlessly: Get In, Get Out. The biggest GIGO perk: I'll not only be saving money, I'll be saving time, a precious resource that none of us can afford to waste.

Day 14: Keep the Whoppers

2009-01-14T19:06:00.012-06:00

Has it only been two weeks since we committed to not eating out? It seems longer, or at least today it did. This day was crazy! There was the usual stuff: the morning and afternoon school rush and taxi service (three kids at three schools today), violin practice, an after school basketball game Mackenzie just had to go to ("It's my last middle school game, Mom!"), and church. Add to that a Go Green! meeting @ the elementary school, past due reports for one of my part-time gigs and training for another of those gigs, my son's tummy ache and a call from a friend with a very sick child, and this day was packed FULL.

There was no time to eat, let alone cook, or so I thought. A handful of walnuts, yogurt and a string cheese (and that oh-so-tiny candy bar) didn't cut it, but it's all I had time for. I wanted so badly to swing through Burger King (the Whopper is only a $1 right now!) or Taco Bell (Have you tasted those fully-loaded nachos?). Maybe it's pride, maybe it's principle, or maybe I'm finally getting it. Whatever it is, I managed to avoid the fast food joints and keep driving.

But by late afternoon, my stomach was painfully protesting my low cal day, and I didn't really care what promise I had made. Thank God for Steve, the voice of reason. He had an insane day too, but we brainstormed for five minutes and decided homemade pizza was the way to go. He made the dough while I picked up Mackenzie, and 45 minutes later, we were all chowing down on that hearty crust smothered with tomato sauce and Italian herbs, topped with turkey pepperoni, veggies and tons of cheese. Just the way we like it.

We oohed and aahhed over that simple meal and as the days go by, we continue to be amazed at how pleasant, how satisfying, this month is turning out to be. We wouldn't trade those modest meals shared with the ones we love for all the Whoppers in the world.

Day 13: Soup, Heat Lamps and Life Lessons

2009-01-13T21:00:00.006-06:00

I had no idea how addicted I am to restaurant food. Whenever I get sick, like today, I crave McAlister's chicken tortilla soup. It's loaded with chunks of chicken and crispy tortilla strips in a thick, spicy cheesy sauce. Yum! It's especially good for clearing the sinuses. But I'm committed to this challenge and I refuse to spend $4.00 for a cup of soup just because I WANT IT, and I WANT IT NOW! (Okay, I feel better...)

The other day our family decided that, as an extra challenge, we should each choose a favorite restaurant food and try to re-create it at home. We've already been able to do that with a few salads and soups. After all, Chinese stir fry is easy, the kids can even make their favorite fast food fare - chicken nuggets and fries, and homemade pizza is the bomb. So, what's the draw? Why do we flock to over-crowded, over-priced, microwave-then-heat-lamp-the-food restaurants? Pretty pathetic when I let myself think about it. I'm hoping this month will be the key to convincing myself, and my kids, that there is nothing "out there" that I can't find in here. Come to think of it, there might just be a larger life lesson buried in there too.

Day 12: Kids Eat Almost Free

2009-01-12T16:30:00.002-06:00

Tonight is "kids eat free" night at one of our favorite restaurants. The food is healthful, the service is good and the atmosphere is quiet. As a bonus, they let you combine coupons. Once, we all ate there for less than a dollar. I haven't eaten all day, thanks to the lingering stomach bug, so letting someone else cook sounds like a brilliant idea. But, alas, I'm making chili instead.

Our family had a discussion last week about how much we like Wendy's chili and how cheap it is - only $1.29 per cup. But, when we dissected that argument, we figured out that we can make chili with all-natural beef, seasoning and sauce, veggies, and organic beans for MUCH less than $1.29 per person. This isn't rocket science, so why all the excuses for not eating at home, I wonder? So, tonight my kids ate almost free, at home sweet home.

Day 11: Tea Time

2009-01-11T19:40:00.010-06:00

I discovered a new way to avoid the temptation to eat out: the stomach flu. I spent the day on the couch, alternately sleeping and sipping peppermint tea. Steve and Mackenzie had a meeting, with lunch provided, right after church, and Maddie heated chicken soup in the microwave for herself and her little brother. For dinner, Mackenzie baked 100% all natural chicken nuggets for everyone, except me of course. What a great compromise; the kids get chicken nuggets, I feel (slightly) better about the quality of what they're eating, and our family saves money (and future heart attacks). :)

Two Sundays down, two to go. Time for more tea...and sleep.

Day 10: Ugh! The Grocery Store

2009-01-10T08:54:00.008-06:00

I really need to plan meals and buy groceries. We're getting dangerously low. Not dangerously close to going hungry, just dangerously close to falling in to the eating out trap. We still have some organic sirloin steak and a huge roast my mom gave us when we were there for Thanksgiving. I don't usually roast or grill meat, so I've been avoiding it. I think today's the day. I need to pull out my recipe books or get on line and figure out a mouthwatering method for cooking the beef. If I don't we're sunk tomorrow after church. Ten days down, 21 to go.

Day 9: Spending vs. Investing

2009-01-09T20:31:00.023-06:00

My friend, Tarah, invited me to speak at a MOPs (Mothers of Preschoolers) meeting today on the topic of "Ten Easy Ways to Go Green". Since I was diagnosed with liver disease and we've gone from two incomes to one, I've become much more interested in detoxing my body and house and in saving money. As I finalized my presentation last night, I realized once again how good stewardship (of personal resources like time, energy, money and possessions, and of God's creation) and frugality are the building blocks of a simple, generous life. I can't explain exactly how it happens; I just know that it does.

After all, what good is money if it's only used for things that break, blow away or burn down? We all have two choices. We can either spend our money on wants and whims or invest it in something that will live forever - people's souls. I feel so blessed when I can take part in helping an abused child go to summer camp, sending missionaries halfway around the world, donating diapers to young moms at the crisis pregnancy center or providing meals for the homeless in my city.

Money is amoral, and it isn't powerful in and of itself. But, in the right hands, it can be an instrument of blessing and comfort for stricken souls all across the globe. Maybe that's what this whole frugality experience is really about, that sinking sense that I'm foolishly spending, instead of wisely investing, the money God has entrusted to me for a few short years on earth. The economy might be rocky right now, but I know one thing for sure: using money to bring life and love to God's children is always a safe investment.

Day 8: Little Numbers Make a Big Difference

2009-01-08T08:21:00.011-06:00

My sister called me last night to tell me she and her husband have canceled their home phone service too. She also downgraded her Dish Network plan with a total savings of about $60 per month, or $720 per year. After scrutinizing her spending habits this week, she's also decided to go cold turkey on her Pepsi slush habit and not color her hair for six months. I heard hope in her voice and the satisfaction that comes with feeling in control instead of powerless. Because the amounts were relatively small on a monthly basis, she said she'd never really thought about how they all add up to a big drain on the checkbook and her emotional energy. But she's making a big change, one baby step at a time. Bravo, Amy!

I used up the last drop of that hideous body lotion this morning. Now I get to treat myself to one of life's little luxuries - Arbonne Unwind body lotion. I found three sample size bottles that my mom had given me last Christmas. It's botanically based, the scent is intoxicating, and it moisturizes better than anything I've ever tried. Now let's see how long I can make these 2-oz. bottles last.

Day 7: Define "Need"

2009-01-07T09:36:00.012-06:00

It's amazing to me what we, in this culture, and I, in particular, consider "essentials". After all, we made a pact - that we would only buy essentials for one month, just 31 short days. Yet, I found myself at the Batteries Plus counter today paying for a new cell phone battery. Granted, my cell phone is my only number now that we've done away with the home phone, and the schools might need to contact me, and the cell phone battery has been freaking out for a couple of months now. (See how easy rationalization is? I'm the master.)

Standing at that counter, my heart sank when I considered that 90% of the world can't get TRUE essentials, including food, clean water, and life-saving medication, as easily as I can get a life-draining cell phone battery. I felt wonderfully blessed and woefully burdened all at once.

We officially added the first item to our "30 Day List": a new American flag. We took our Christmas flag down, and it's time to fly Old Glory again. But, she's looking a little ragged. Approximate cost: $20. Truly a small price to pay to display our love for this country and to honor the people who have died protecting our freedom.

Day 6: Snacks, Snacks Everywhere

2009-01-06T21:35:00.007-06:00

I took the kids to see our neighbor in the nursing home right after school which had "disaster" written all over it. They're usually hungry and grouchy, understandably, at that time of day. So I knew we would all be tempted to swing through our favorite ice cream place, conveniently located just down the street from the nursing home, and devour four 79 cent cones. You'll be happy to know that I avoided disaster by planning ahead. Snacks to the rescue! Before I left the house to pick them up, I grabbed a water bottle, grapes, string cheese and a box of graham crackers. Victory! We did stop by the grocery store on the way home to get some snacks for their lunches. Probably not the healthiest options in the world, but more nutritious and less expensive than school lunch.

Day 5: Does Coffee Always Smell That Good?

2009-01-05T18:55:00.007-06:00

I visited my 98-year-old neighbor in the hospital today, and I swear the coffee cart in the lobby was screaming my name. I don't even drink coffee, but it smelled so good I almost succumbed to the $4.00 a cup scam. It was a close call, but I just picked up the pace and speed walked out the lobby, puffing my cheeks with held breath and trying not to look too obvious.

Sad to say we've already broken the no eating out rule. Steve was the offender, but in his defense, he was planning on coming home for lunch. But he found out this morning a friend of his is in the hospital, so he decimated the budget by squandering $2.12 in the Wendy's drive thru. I guess he can get a pass since he was actively involved in visiting the sick.

I really want to buy some new body lotion for my lizard skin. We're using up the half empty bottles we've had since last winter, and now I remember why this particular bottle never got used. It's terrible! But, I'm choosing dry, scaly legs until every drop of that horrible stuff is gone. It's the principle of the thing.

We'll be watching the Fiesta Bowl (and the 4,000 KFC, Subway, Hardee's, Pizza Hut and McDonald's commercials) tonight. I'm sure they won't affect us at all. Nerves of steel.

Day 4: Our First Sunday

2009-01-04T18:52:00.017-06:00

We've told the kids about our January plan, but our son was none too happy when Daddy informed him we were not eating at a restaurant after church today. He was craving McDonald's or Mexican, not lame leftovers at home. We were all hungry and the thought of cleaning up yet another kitchen mess didn't appeal to me. But we stuck to our guns, heated up leftover spaghetti and bread, snacked on grapes and carrots and topped it all off with peanut butter pie and vanilla ice cream. We left the mess until after "family nap", but we all agreed it was worth the $30-$40 that we saved.

Day 3: Great Timing

2009-01-03T18:37:00.005-06:00

Our washer has been terminally ill for several months. Today it died. Sigh. Since we consider a washing machine (and clean underwear) essential, we trekked to Sears and bought a Kenmore, thanks to the 12 months, no interest plan. I know a lot of people swear that off because of the risks involved, which I understand completely. But we have used that option through the years to buy many things, including carpet, garage doors, bedroom furniture and other appliances. We have always paid off the balance in full and have not paid any interest (knock on wood). Just don't tell Dave Ramsey. he he

We're having friends over for dinner tonight, and we talked about ordering pizza for our families. Tempting. Very tempting. Instead, I pulled out a pizza dough recipe I've been meaning to try. It's easy to prepare, quick (rises in only 15 minutes) and is much healthier (whole wheat crust, turkey pepperoni, all natural sauce and cheese, loaded with veggies). We all enjoyed it, unless our friends lied, and I tried something new.

Day 2: Bye Bye Land Line

2009-01-02T18:18:00.006-06:00

The phone bill has been making me ill for several months, so I called today to see if I could find a cheaper plan. We have a home phone, high-speed Internet and two cell phones. After my husband and I scrutinized the itemized bill and discussed our priorities, we decided to ditch the land line ($60/month) and add another cell phone ($10/month + $19 for the phone). This will allow us to stay in contact with our teen and pre-teen daughters when one of us is gone and save $45 per month ($540 per year). I'll take it.

Day 1: So Far, So Good

2009-01-01T18:08:00.003-06:00

No real temptations today. We have plenty of snacks left from New Year's Eve and all the restaurants are closed. I wonder if I could convince them all to close down for the whole month... Having food in the house is definitely going to be one of our keys to success. I need to regularly plan meals and shop for groceries, both of which I loathe. Here's to new habits in the new year!

Our New Year Adventure

2008-12-31T17:17:00.008-06:00

Well, Christmas is over and, like many of you, we're feeling a little financially challenged. Add property taxes and higher heating bills to the Christmas crunch and, well... I start looking at creative options. This year, my plan involves a family adventure, of sorts. Since I feel like there's more month than money every January, it's easy to embrace that as the truth. So, my husband and I totalled up all of our monthly commitments - house payment, car insurance, utilities, phone and the amounts we've committed to give to our church and other ministries. Then we subtracted that amount from our monthly income. The result showed us in black and white that we do have money left after we pay our bills. The only reasonable explanation for the gap between our intentions about how to use our money and the reality are the "variable" expenses. (That's CPA speak for expenses we can more easily control, like groceries and clothes.)

So we devised a plan. For the month of January, we've resolved not to eat out and not to buy anything except essentials. We are going to make a list of any non-essentials we want to buy and reconsider those potential purchases in February.

Let me set this up for you. We're not big spenders. We drive a 10-year-old Jeep and a five-year-old minivan. No car payments. We live in a 1950's Ranch style house that we have slowly fixed up over the last decade. We usually eat out after church and sometimes one other time per week at the "kids eat free" places. I buy many, if not most, of our family's clothes used or drastically on sale. We've only taken one family vacation, which we paid cash for.

But, alas we are apparently still "leaking". We want to be better stewards of the resources God has entrusted to us, and we want to give more, save more and continue to fix up our house. Maybe you want to get out of debt, save for retirement or travel. Whatever your goals are, I hope you'll join us in this challenge, and I'd love to hear about your victories, challenges and temptations along the way.

Good luck and Happy New Year!

A Heart Filled With Gratitude

2008-11-30T20:03:00.012-06:00

We spent the weekend at my mom's with my siblings and their families. I ate too much and slept too little. But as we traveled home tonight - six hours through gusty wind, rain and sleet - my mind wandered back over the weekend, and the first 38 years of my life, recalling my blessings. Here's just a sampling, which I'm sure many of you share.

Another year of life, truly the most precious gift God bestows
Still being crazy about my husband after 15 years
The privilege of motherhood
Healthy, happy children
A big, loud, crazy family who love me just the way I am
A big, loud, crazy family I love just the way they are
My sisters' two-year-old girls
Living in the greatest country on Earth
Knowing that God loves me and has a purpose for me in His master plan
Reuniting with college friends (almost 20 years after college)
Pumpkin pie and chocolate fondue
The generosity of others
Getting out of a warm bed to a hot breakfast (Thanks, Mom!)
Beautiful colors and textures of the late Fall countryside
Forgiveness
Reliable transportation
The ability to work
Girlfriends
Reading a good book by a glowing fire
Warm, fuzzy socks (Is there anything better?)

My wish for you is that you focus on your blessings more than your burdens and that each day reveals itself as the unopened gift it was meant to be. Happy Thanksgiving!

Now It's Gettin' Political

2008-10-07T14:07:00.039-05:00

I have no political expertise; my degree is in Accounting, not political science. But my dad, a Vietnam vet and high school political science teacher, was passionate about America and its greatness, and he passed that zeal onto his daughters.

That said, recently my daughters (ages 12 and 10) were trying to sort out all the rhetoric and asked me why their dad and I consider ourselves "conservatives". Here's my answer, condensed into a top 10 list.

10. I can't relate to the Hollywood elites, and they can't relate to me.
9. I think I am better qualified to manage my own life, and money, than the government is.
8. I believe that capitalism, not socialism, is the strongest economic system.
7. I am, and always have been, proud of my country and believe that, with all its faults, it is still the greatest country on earth.
6. I think the only effective anti-terror strategy is to fight terrorists where they are, not merely ask them to play nice.
5. I believe the responsibility of judges is to interpret the constitution, not re-write it.
4. I admire, not blame, the brave men and women who fight for our right to criticize and accuse them of "air-raiding villages and killing civilians".
3. I believe that 99% of the situations people find themselves in are caused, or greatly contributed to, by their own choices; therefore, taking personal responsibility is much more empowering than government intervention in most situations.
2. I believe that marriage was intended by God to be a union between one man and one woman.
1. I believe life is precious from the moment of conception until the moment of natural death, and that the circumstances surrounding the child's conception don't determine the value of its life.

I think Ronald Reagan said it best. "Freedom prospers when religion is vibrant and the rule of law under God is acknowledged."

Decorating 101

2008-07-26T19:37:00.015-05:00

I read something once that completely changed the way I decorate my house: "Surround yourself only with those things which you find to be useful or beautiful." For ten years, I have followed that advice strictly, almost fanatically. Since I read that simple yet profound statement, it has been a source of freedom and inspiration in every decorating choice I have made, especially in the absence of the "money is no object" scenario. As a result, my house has taken on a look and feel that distinctly reflect our family's personality and priorities.

Comfy couches and chairs beckon from in front of the fireplaces. Family photos fill the walls. (After all, what would any mother consider more beautiful than pictures of her children?) Sweet-smelling candles scent the air, and miles of books line the built-in bookshelves. Brightly colored petunias peek out of the flower boxes while the porch swing and hammock practically beg to be put to work on lazy summer afternoons.

The house isn't fancy; in fact, it's old and the never-ending list of home improvement projects, including "gutting" the 1950's pink bathroom, is daunting. But we believe this house is a gift from God, a haven for our precious brood, and we nurture it with patience and persistence.

I like to shop for little "treasures" for the house, so on a recent outing to Target, I decided to peruse the summer clearance items. Unbeknownst to me, my six-year-old son Micah was browsing too, and halfway down the doormat aisle, he cried, "Mom, look at this one!" I obediently backed up the cart and glanced at the object of his affection: a school of blue fish on a tan background with the caption, "Thanks for swimming by." "That's cute," I half mumbled and ambled on. "Cute?!", he practically yelled. "Mom, I love it!" He is fascinated with nature, especially fish and birds, and his delighted, fixated gaze told me he really did adore it.

So, I tried my first "I don't want to buy that" excuse. "Let's see how much it is." Bummer. Only $7. Who knew clearance could be a bad thing? Luckily, I had another excuse poised and ready. "But, honey," I said as he clasped his hands together and pleaded with his eyes, "it doesn't match our house." Realizing he couldn't argue with that logic, he slowly unclasped his hands, stood up straight, turned toward his silly new friends and said, "But it matches me."

Needless to say, the fish found a new home, and my "useful or beautiful" logic took on new meaning. Every time I look at those blue, bloated cartoon faces under my feet, I think about what they represent: a little buzz-headed blonde, full of energy and life, who treasures God's creatures with a simple appreciation that rubs off on his sisters, dad and me. I think about the other imperfect aspects of my real-life decorating dilemmas like tiny, greasy fingerprints on the carefully painted walls, black permanent marker on the red ottoman and crayons, CD's and smelly socks strewn from one end of the house to the other. Messy? Yeah. Frustrating? At times. Beautiful? Absolutely. My house will never be featured on HGTV, that's for sure. But our zany, wonderful, noisy, unpredictable life happens here, and that will always be enough for me.

Party, Interrupted

2008-06-29T16:51:00.043-05:00

My son turned six on June 18th and as usual the date, lying in wait behind Father's Day, snuck up on me. Micah's a nature lover and, after much discussion, he decided he would have a "water party" in our front yard. (His first idea was to hike the nature trails at a local conservation area while searching for deer, wild turkeys and snakes. He couldn't understand that some people consider that torture, not fun.) "What a great idea!", I thought. Practical, inexpensive, easy to plan and I won't even have to clean the house.

We invited his friends and their moms for a low-key afternoon get-together. Next we picked up some squirt guns, borrowed a sprinkler toy from a friend, blew up the inflatable kiddie pool, hosed off the lawn chairs, ordered a cookie cake and made a quick trip to the party store for matching fish plates and napkins.

The big day finally arrived, and everything was in order. The weather forecast called for a "slight chance for rain" in the evening, but the party was scheduled from 2:00-4:00. Perfect. A little before 2:00, the guests started arriving. Micah proudly greeted his friends, handing them colorful plastic leis and inviting them to "grab a (water) gun and start shooting". The moms lounged in lawn chairs, rocking babies and sipping cold water, while the kids splashed, squirted and screamed.

A good time was had by all until, at precisely 3:03 pm, a high-pitched whine echoed all around us. The sky was clear, but there was no mistaking the sound: tornado sirens. Time to implement Plan B. Everyone inside - NOW! In a matter of three minutes, 15 soaking wet, grass-covered boys and girls tramped through the house, as I frantically made my way toward the TV. Mass chaos ensued, as the kids stripped off their wet swimming suits, confused by the sudden end to the water fun; the weatherman screamed instructions at us and the moms called their husbands to assure them they were safe.

Meanwhile, Micah kept pulling on my shirt, begging me to "save his presents from the patio table before they blow away". I tried to calmly explain this was a crisis, the presents would be fine and I'd get them as soon as I was sure everyone was safe. That explanation didn't cut it for him so, in the midst of the mayhem, he slipped on his sandals and embarked on a rescue mission. I didn't even notice he was gone until he reappeared in the family room, laden with bags and boxes, looking terrified but triumphant.

The wind blew, the rain poured and the sky turned black as night. Through it all, Micah gleefully opened his gifts while he and his friends devoured the giant chocolate chip cookie, a half gallon of ice cream and two dozen juice boxes. They didn't seem to notice the dangerous weather or the completely disastrous (in my mind) change of plans. As soon as Micah's party ended, I had a party of my own--a pity party. "Why does something always have to go wrong when I plan a party? Why aren't my kids' parties as cool as other kids' parties? I didn't even clean my house, for Pete's sake." I sulked and pouted and wondered why God hadn't answered my prayer for calm weather.

The next day, Micah crept into my bed early, like he does every morning after his dad leaves for work. I rolled over and peered groggily through a half-opened eyelid to see him gazing at the ceiling and grinning ear to ear. When I asked him why he was so happy, he said, "I'm just thinking about my party. It was the best day of my life." But I wasn't convinced, still feeling like a party-planning failure, until we went to the church picnic on Sunday. Micah was getting settled on the picnic blanket, trying not to spill his fried chicken or lemonade, when his friend Garrett bounded up to him and joyfully exclaimed, "Hey Micah, I loved your party! We got to squirt all the girls.", and they promptly exchanged high fives. Amused and more than a little surprised, I looked over at Steve. He just smiled, winked and said, "See? I told you. It was perfect." And I had to admit, based on the evidence, that he was right.

A Tribute To My Dad

2008-06-09T20:33:00.059-05:00

Today's my dad's birthday. He would have been 56, but he died 11 years ago of melanoma. With Father's Day a few days away, it seemed only fitting to dedicate this post to him.

A Tribute to Dad, Michael Robert Coyne (6/9/52-5/4/97):

I spent last week at a writers' conference on a quaint college campus near Chicago. Being there, surrounded by stately buildings and lovers of words, brought you to my mind even more than usual. Your passion for learning and ability with language, both written and spoken, were a shining example to me.

Since you were so young when I was born, I remember attending your college graduation ceremony. You beamed with pride, and I thought that I'd never seen you so happy as you were wearing that square hat with string hanging off the side. I wasn't sure what it all meant, but your smile told me that piece of paper was important and somehow represented hope and progress. I remember, years later, when you took Amy and me to the campus on lazy summer days. We'd stroll along the sidewalks and admire the distinguished buildings and majestic oak trees, eventually meandering to the history museum where you gave us our own guided tour. You saw beauty in learning just for the sake of learning, and you taught us to love it too.

And what a way with words you had! I remember how you studied for hours and seemingly never forgot anything you read. Your razor-sharp wit allowed you to discuss virtually any subject, from politics to basketball, and your engaging style held us all captive as you recounted events from your own life or the world at large.

You worked hard to achieve your dreams, and becoming a teacher and coach was the pinnacle for you. History came alive when you taught. "Mr. Coyne" sounded so formal, so I just called you "Dad", to the delight of the other gum-popping, note-passing high school girls. Your incredible command of history and animated narratives made us laugh but, more importantly, they made us think. I learned to love America--in your classroom and in your home. You taught me that voting is a privilege, that having a voice is just as important as holding an office. (I also remember your disappointment when I was the only student in the senior Civics class who couldn't register to vote because I was still 17.) You taught and modeled that it's worth it to work toward an ideal, no matter the strength of the opposition. That's the beauty of democracy, you said.

You craved variety and were always searching for a new adventure. You loaded boxes for UPS, hiked the Grand Canyon and cheered the KU basketball team to their first National Championship. You lived to travel the world, ride horses and coach football. Literary classics captured your heart and Saturday Night Live made you laugh so hard you hiccuped. You could never pass up Mom's fried chicken or root beer floats. You hated peas and injustice and, as hard as you tried, you never understood math or your teenage daughters.

Your life read like a good novel. The scenes were always changing, from the Kansas plains to the jungles of Vietnam to an Eskimo village in Alaska. You were down-to-earth yet complicated, strong yet vulnerable, gentle yet distant. And there was plenty of conflict--with yourself and others. No one knows the hurts of another human heart, but I know yours were deep. Maybe that's where the novel takes an interesting turn. Your wrestling with God told a twisted, beautiful tale about a loving Father's willingness to pursue His beloved children and woo them with grace and truth toward sweet redemption.

That's your story, Dad. When I think about the ending, it seems tragic. The lessons you learned in war and family and life seem wasted because you died so young, before two of your own children were grown. Your grandchildren don't know you, except from looking at pictures of you on horseback or kissing the Blarney stone. But then I remember the elements of a good story I learned last week. Take the reader on a ride, then leave them with something to take away, something to think about. To the casual reader, the ending is senseless and heartbreaking. But look closer, it's the most amazing ending of all.

No more conflict or cancer and just one final change of scenery. The hero in the story returns to his true home, a safe place where he's welcomed with open arms. That's not tragic. After all, physical death isn't the end of the story. It's merely a new chapter in a never-ending tale of peace and oneness with God, the author and perfecter of all things good. That's "happily ever after" if I've ever heard it.

You packed a lot into 44 years, and I thank God for your life and the influence it had on me and many others. I still miss you every single day, but I know I'll see you soon.

Love,
Lisa

A Lesson in the Garden

2008-05-26T20:13:00.021-05:00

As I rounded the corner of the house to fill my watering can, I stopped dead in my tracks - shocked by what I saw. A rose bush in bloom isn't unusual in May. But this wasn't just any bush. This was the most stubborn, resistant, obnoxious plant I'd ever encountered. I'd wanted, even begged my husband, to cut it down and pull the roots out any number of times during the past nine years.

At our first house we had roses, planted by the previous owners, and were always amazed at how little work they required. We did nothing; yet they bloomed radiantly in a rainbow of colors each Spring. So, when we moved into our current house, we knew we wanted to include those "beautiful, low-maintenance roses" we remembered so fondly. We promptly planted the aforementioned climbing bush right outside our bedroom window.

The first year it did nothing. No growth, no buds. Nothing. We watered it faithfully and "fed" it rose food. Year two - still nothing. Year three - nada. Year four - zip. "Be patient," Steve said. "It will bloom when it's ready." (He knows me better than anyone on the planet, except you- Mom, and he still used the "p" word. Patience is not a virtue of mine, to say the least.) Year five. Eureka! A couple of buds formed. We got excited, but they never opened into full flowers. That's when I got mad - and serious. This thing was not going to beat me. I Google'd "roses" and read everything that popped up. The recurring theme in each article was pruning - a fancy term for "Cut the heck out of the plant every year."

I've been gardening for a while now, but apparently I still had a lot to learn, and the concept of chopping something up to make it grow bigger and stronger didn't make sense to me. It seemed unnecessary, even harsh. But, my husband's grandparents had a fruit orchard, and he was all too familiar with the pruning process. He explained to me the benefits that fruit trees and flowering plants derive from pruning, including ridding it of the unproductive parts and helping it to conserve resources to maximize its new, healthy growth the following season.

So, after carefully studying the recommended rose-pruning procedures, he sharpened the clippers and went to work. He cut and chopped and clipped until the poor thing looked pathetic. "Trust me," he said. "Next year will be better." And, sure enough, he was right! The next Spring, one or two of those buds did open up into a gorgeous pink bloom. Progress! We have pruned it every year since with varying degrees of success, but I hadn't paid much attention to it so far this season. Hence my shock when I rounded the corner. It was stunning! There were six flowers in full bloom and at least as many buds ready to open any day. The foliage was vibrant and green, and it had climbed almost to the roof line.

Right then and there, I learned a life lesson that I'm sure I'll never forget--the value of pruning. Not just in gardening, but in life. Jesus said, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit; and He cleanses and repeatedly prunes every branch that continues to bear fruit, to make it bear more and richer and more excellent fruit" (John 15:1-2, Amp). I thought back over my own life and all the cleansing and pruning God has had to do. He has chopped away at self-destructive habits like overeating and overspending. Every day, He clips off unruly thoughts filled with selfishness and pride. He digs up the weeds of worry, criticism and unforgiveness, bringing me to a beautiful place of repentance and restoration, like a spring rain washing over my wilted leaves.

I wish I could say my pruning days are over, that my life continually bears rich, excellent fruit. Alas, that's not the case. BUT, when I think back over all the mistakes, poor choices, and trials, I realize that those pruning incidents have caused fruit to grow. Owing only to God's grace, my marriage is still strong and loving after 15 years. I don't overeat or overspend anymore (okay, okay, rarely). I love being my kids' mom, and God has blessed me with several close friends. Most amazing to me are the many times He has turned pipe dreams into reality. Just like that rose bush, I'm still stubborn and obnoxious at times. But God sees the beautiful flowers trying to bloom through adversity and thanks to the faithful pruning of a loving gardener, I believe I'll see them too.

Maddie Gives Big!

2008-04-09T09:50:00.033-05:00

My daughter, Maddie, turned 10 on March 28th. Birthdays are a big deal in our family, and Maddie usually starts thinking about hers the day after Christmas. :) She has lots of friends and wants to include everyone in the festivities, which can be challenging on our limited birthday budget. So, thinking I would get a jump on it, I asked her in early March what she wanted to do for her birthday this year. I expected her to say, "Have a sleepover.", or "Go roller skating with my friends." To my surprise, she didn't say either of those things. But what she did say blessed my heart and made me proud.

"Mom, I can't really think of anything I want this year, except a Hannah Montana movie. So I was thinking that maybe..." Here it comes, I thought. She wants to invite the whole world and have a three-day festival commemorating the day of her birth. I started to feel nauseous. "..that maybe, instead of asking for presents this year, I'll just ask for donations to help abused kids." What?? Did I hear that right? A ten-year-old girl--the ten-year-old girl who lives in my house, no less-- is voluntarily giving up gifts to help hurting kids?? It took a minute for that to soak in. But, knowing Maddie like I do, I shouldn't have been surprised. She's always had a tender heart toward others, and more than once, she's asked to use the computer to make "flyers" to initiate a penny drive at school to help those less fortunate.

How can a mother turn down a request like that? "Let's do it!" I said, and we got right to work. After much discussion and thought, she decided to donate the money she raised to Royal Family Kids Camp, the nation's largest network of camps for abused and neglected children. Our county has the highest child abuse and neglect rates in the state, and our church sponsors a Royal Family Kids Camp every summer. So Maddie has heard about and seen the tragic consequences of child abuse and neglect in church, school and even in our family since her adopted sister was neglected in early childhood. All these factors convinced Maddie that giving up her gifts for RFKC was a perfect fit.

Next, Maddie typed a letter explaining what she planned to do and sent it to our extended family, her church and school friends and a few close family friends. The party was simple--a room @ the church and plenty of cake, soda, balloons and, of course, Hannah Montana movies and CD's playing all three hours. Everyone had a great time, and the end result was amazing! With God's blessing and the generosity of many people, Maddie was able to raise $1,600 for the Royal Family kids--enough to send three or four kids to camp this summer.

This has been such an eye-opening experience for our family, and I want to share with you the lessons we've learned, the first of which is you do NOT, I repeat, do NOT, have to be wealthy, influential or part of an altruistic army to make a very real difference in the world. All it takes is one person, even one very small person, with a heart of compassion and a desire to look @ the tough stuff in this life and try to make things better.

Jesus taught that it is "more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts 20:35), but to most of us, those words just don't ring true. But God showed us the truth in that statement in an upclose and personal way. I have never seen Maddie as happy and joyful as she was this year. Her face lit up each time she opened a card that contained money--not for her, but for someone else--and she beamed with delight for several days after. She experienced the true, deep joy of giving that no pile of presents can ever replace. Someday, she'll forget the clothes, movies and books that she usually gets for her birthday. But, the memory of reaching out to "the least of these" can never be erased.

We're all familiar with the law of sowing and reaping. I mean no one expects flowers or fruit to grow without first putting a seed into the ground. This law seems so obvious when we think about how it works in nature. But I'm learning that it's just as powerful in everyday life. It really is true that you get what you give, and Maddie's big-giving adventure demonstrated that in spades. God puts it this way, "Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you" (Luke 6:38). Maddie started with a small seed of compassion, planted it firmly in love, watered it with hope and faith. But it was God who made it grow. He made the love and generosity of one little child blossom into something beautiful and life-changing--for Maddie, for Maddie's mom and most importantly, for some precious Royal kids.

Built for Speed?

2008-03-27T13:02:00.025-05:00

It's been too long since I've posted. I apologize to any of you who routinely read my posts. The bad news is life has been a little crazy lately. The good news is it's been hectic for (mostly) all the right reasons -- hanging out with my family during Spring Break, celebrating Easter, planning my daughter's birthday bash and trying to meet the ever present writing deadlines which, by the way, I'm oh-so-thankful for! :)

Anyway... I'm back, and here's what I've been thinking about. A few weeks ago, my five-year-old son, Micah, entered a little wooden car in our church's annual Pinewood Derby race. For those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to watch your child's car zoom down a wooden plank to victory, allow me to describe the process. First, lots of little boys (and girls) design, cut out, paint and assemble their own wooden car for the big race. (Micah spelled "Mom" on one end of the car and "Dad" on the other end. Of course, when the announcer asked him which end was the front, he promptly replied, "DAD"! No hard feelings though - really.)On race day, all the cars are displayed on tables for the die-hard fans to admire. Then the race begins. Three cars at a time, divided by the child's age group, are poised at the top of a thin wooden plank - think roller coaster rail. They are released at the same time and, as they cross the finish line, a computer calculates each car's time to determine the ultimate winner.

There are two awards given per age group-- one for design and one for speed. You can imagine which one the boys all want and what a source of pride it is -- for the boys and their dads -- if they win the coveted prize for speed. This year, Micah won third place for speed in his division, which warranted a long-distance call to Grandpa, a self-confessed speed demon and soon-to-be drag racer himself. Micah proudly announced that his car "was almost the fastest out of 18 boys!", as Grandpa congratulated him on the other end of the phone and Steve grinned from ear to ear.

That conversation, combined with the aforementioned craziness in my schedule, started me thinking about which trophy I want. Not for the Pinewood Derby, of course, but for my life. When it's all over, what do I want my life to count for: speed--the busy, hectic, run from here to there at the pace of a world-class sprinter with nothing to show for it except busy-ness itself, or design--a well-crafted way of living that drinks in everything life has to offer. It's a no-brainer, but it's also a constant battle. Like many of you, I want to take long walks in the Spring sunshine, bake homemade chocolate chip cookies for my kids and generally shower my family and friends with endless amounts of energy, patience and love. But the reality is there is laundry to wash, bills to pay, toilets to clean and deadlines to meet. I'm human, so I feel discontent, tired and grouchy more often than I like to admit.

So where is the balance? I have a feeling I'll be asking myself that question on a daily basis for as long as I walk this earth. But a couple of truths keep resurfacing in my life, and I've noticed a pattern. Whenever I keep these thoughts in the forefront of my mind, my days are more fulfilling and less irritating. My priorities stay straighter and my life feels richer. They're not earth-shattering, but they have been life changing: 1) There is not time in each day to do everything, but there is time to do everything that God wants me to do, which ties in closely with #2. "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness (His way of being and doing), and all these things will be added to you." (Matthew 6:33).

So, with these principles in mind I wake up each morning and visualize what my day "should" look like to accomplish what I need to while still keeping first things first. I like to think of each 24-hour period like it's a lump of clay with no particular form, shape or color. It's up to me to take that ugly mass of "empty" time and craft it into something beautiful. That might mean cleaning my house and running errands, writing at my tiny, garage sale desk for 10 hours straight, sitting with a friend by her child's bedside in the hospital or playing tag with my kids in the front yard. Whatever the rest of my life brings, I know if I listen to my heart and trust God that someday I'll win a trophy too. But it won't be for speed. For me, to hear God Himself say, "Well done, good and faithful servant" (Matthew 25:21) at the end of my journey will be the ultimate reward for design. All that's left to do is begin - TODAY. "Ladies, start your engines!"

Remember Surrender

2008-02-11T14:22:00.033-06:00

I took my nine-year-old daughter (and famous singer wanna-be) Maddie to a Sara Groves concert last Friday. It's the third time I've seen her in concert; I love her music and respect her message more each time. It's not even entertainment from the standpoint that it's not passive. It's almost like work. Sara makes me think and search and confront myself. After the concert I felt challenged, not entertained, but it's a worthwhile tradeoff. She sings about real life in a broken world, but the music teems with hope and promise. She writes most of her own lyrics, which have moved and sustained me during the most challenging times of my life. Case in point - Remember, Surrender from the All Right Here CD.

Remember, surrender. As a matter of fact, I do remember. I remember exactly where and when I surrendered - in a red chair in the middle of another sleepless night. Taunted by doctors' reports and dismal statistics. Afraid to quit fighting, afraid I would lose.

My youngest child was just six months old when I was diagnosed with a rare, usually fatal (90% of the time) liver disease. My future looked bleak at best. I was undergoing the only known medical treatment, a series of steroids with an immunosuppressant drug often used in chemotherapy. My head spun, my stomach churned, my hands trembled and I slept only about 10 hours a week. It was 3:00 am, and I was still awake. Bleary eyed and frustrated, I stumbled out of bed and shuffled down the hallway to the family room where I collapsed, exhausted and defeated, into my favorite red chair - and God's arms. Hopeless and scared, I cried my heart out. I told him that I wanted to live but that I couldn't fight anymore. The drugs were taking their toll and trying to raise four young kids, work part time and stay ahead of the mounting medical bills and laundry piles, all while trying to squelch my fears and those of my family and friends was more than I could handle. All the anger, fear and bewilderment of the last few months spilled out. I held nothing back. Remember surrender. Remember relief. Remember how tears rolled down both of your cheeks. As the warmth of a heavenly father came closing in.

After my crying fit, I laid my head against the arm of the chair and I gave it all to God. The length - and quality - of my life. My children's future with or without me. All the hopes and dreams I'd had for my life and theirs. A few minutes later, for the first time in months, my hands stopped trembling and I closed my eyes and slept... deeply and peacefully right there in the red chair. Remember surrender. Remember the peace. Remember how soundly you fell fast asleep. In the face of your troubles your future still shone like the morning sun.

I was fighting against the disease with all my strength but the whole time, God wasn't asking me to fight. He was asking me to do something much more difficult - to trust and to rest - in the middle of the battle. Not to take on the weight of the world. Not to grieve my losses - yet. Not to roll over and die. Not to be bitter and angry and ask, "Why me?" But only to trust. Remember surrender. Remember the rest. Remember that weight lifting off of your chest. And realizing that it's not up to you and it never was..."

That was five years ago and I'm still here. God has taught me so much about what my body and soul need to be healthy, including proper nutrition, exercise and plenty of rest. I have a wonderful doctor, who gives me hope and encouragement, which sometimes is all I need to get through another day with a good attitude. My life has changed a lot since the night in the red chair. My priorities are straight, and my relationships are rich. Now I spend my days caring for my family and my health. I've learned how to forgive, love, play and enjoy life. But maybe the most healing aspect of all of this has been God awakening dreams in me that I had long since buried, not the least of which is reaching out to other women through writing. Remember surrender. Remember that sound. Of all of those voices inside dying down. But one who speaks clearly of helping and healing you deep within.

Yes, I do remember the surrender. It was the sweetest decision I could have made, and the beginning of an incredible journey toward true healing and wholeness. So, let me encourage you in whatever you're struggling through. God will give you joy for sorrow and beauty for ashes. All He asks in return is that you trust Him and realize that it's not up to you... and it never was.

Sabotage is Such a Strong Word

2008-02-08T16:52:00.000-06:00

I'm reading a devotional book called Praying for Purpose for Women, by Katie Brazelton. In each daily entry, there is a question to ask yourself, a Bible verse, a short prayer and space to journal what you're learning. The point is to guide the reader toward discovering God's unique plan for her life through a series of "baby steps". It takes guts to look that closely at yourself, but that's what I'm trying to do.

Day 11 was particularly piercing. Here's just a morsel, "Are you a saboteur?" (Absolutely not! That's such an ugly word.) Then the definition: "Self-sabotage means that you consciously or subconsciously obstruct your own productivity (uh, oh...) in order to underhandedly defeat a worthwhile endeavor." Nope. Not me. I read further to find out what other women do to complicate their lives and ensure that they fall short of the fulfilling lives they desire.

That's when she pulled out the big guns. She gave examples - galore! "Could this be your story?", she asks, in her unassuming way. "NO!!" I screamed inside my head, starting to panic now. Here are just a few:

You don't exercise, causing health issues.
You are rash and impulsive, resulting in poor, often irreversible decisions.
You compare yourself to others and end up feeling inadequate.
You aim for perfection, leading inevitably to failure.
You allow your temper to rage out of control, producing guilt and shame.

You get the picture. And so it went, each example peeling away another layer of denial until I found myself searching frantically for the "All of the Above" choice! "How did this happen?" I wondered aloud as I sat in the middle of my bed confronted by all the ways I choose to be my own worst enemy.

I've read more self improvement books than any woman alive and, while I have made positive changes as a result, I still struggle in EVERY SINGLE AREA she mentioned. And, as often as I've undercut God's best intentions for my life, instead of facing it and making a change, I usually blame Him.

So what's the answer? Well... I think step one is probably doing exactly what I was forced to do - strip away the denial and excuses. Each of us needs to take a deep, honest look at our daily thought and behavior patterns. Then we need to surrender and be open to change. God will show us areas where we need to come up higher, but we have to listen. And, you know what I've found? God is the Alpha and Omega of Common Sense. Sometimes the things we make so hard are actually very simple - not easy, mind you - but simple.

For example, if you're moody all day because you stayed up too late, go to bed! If you're miserable because you just ate three Snickers bars, choose one "fun" size Snickers (I wonder how much fun a candy bar that small can be.). You get the idea. Overspending, overeating, yelling at my kids, or that racing, pounding heart feeling, all of which I still confront, really have straightforward answers, whether or not we want to believe it.

Here are just a few principles that I am discovering to help alleviate my self-sabotaging behaviors.

Be content. Period.
Be moderate in all things, including work, eating, spending and exercise. Following this principle alone has added balance and peace to my life.
Treat others like I want to be treated. Need I say more?
Try to see myself as God sees me - a cherished one-of-a-kind work-in-progress.
Be humble. Note that this does NOT mean thinking less of yourself. It simply means to think of yourself less.
Be radically generous! Nothing lifts my spirits in the middle of a self-sabotaging funk like giving to someone else. There are so many needs. Every time I look, I find someone who needs an encouraging word, a hug or a hot meal.

In spite of the many "self improvement" books I've read, I learned every one of these principles from the greatest book ever written. It's true. Start with the book of Proverbs and see for yourself. And, take "self sabotage" out of your vocabulary for good!

We're All On This Quest

2008-01-15T14:22:00.000-06:00

First, let me establish that I read -- a lot. I'm a busy mom, but reading is a life line, of sorts, for me. So I make time for it. I read while I'm waiting to pick up my kids from school. I read at the doctor's office and in traffic jams. I read first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I read on the porch swing and in the bathtub. So when I say a book has been life-changing, one thing is for sure: It's had a lot of competition.

A Quest for More, by Paul David Tripp, was just such a book. Wow! What a read! The brutal honesty was refreshing, and the way he molded a weighty topic into a concept I could get my mind and heart around was remarkable. This book made me think, cry, hurt and hope. It challenged me, and everyone who dares to read it, to leave behind my little "kingdom of self" to reach toward something deeper and wider than my life - the kingdom of God.

Tripp convincingly demonstrates the value of living with God at the center of your life, in gratitude to Him and service to others. Nothing else will, or even can, give our lives such meaning, purpose and joy. Most of us long to be part of something bigger than ourselves. But, in the midst of daily life and busy schedules, we find that we only have enough energy to (barely) take care of ourselves and our families, thereby "reducing the size of our life to the size of our life". Tripp writes that we are “wired” for so much more and that tying our purpose into God’s kingdom is the only thing that will, or can, fulfill us. The bottom line: Each of us was created with a void inside and an intense need to fill it. This isn't theology, and you don't have to be "religious" to see this played out every day. We all try to fill the void, sometimes in destructive ways, like with drugs, alcohol or too much food. Or, we might try to fill it in more benign, but still ineffective, ways like through our careers, relationships, entertainment or even ministry. While many of these things are not wrong in and of themselves, they weren't intended to fill our void, and they never will.

This book is pretty “heady”. If you want to read something sweet, light and fluffy, read something else. But, if you're ready to take an honest look at yourself and feel the hope that lies beneath what you find, this is the book for you. It's also real. I'm not much for head knowledge without practical life application, my personal litmus test for a"personal/spiritual growth" book. A Quest for More passed with flying colors! In fact, the last chapter of the book, aptly titled "Putting It All Together" outlines what this kind of "big kingdom" living looks like, in the real world on a daily basis. On some level, you will recognize yourself - and the people in your life - in this book. Thankfully, you will also have a road map to start your journey toward a passionate, purposeful life.

The Littlest Stalker

2008-01-14T10:43:00.001-06:00

Our family is being stalked. It all started innocently. There were occasional phone calls and pleasantries exchanged. But now it's starting to get a little weird. This person called our house 12 times in less than 24 hours. Every time the phone rings, we all groan... We know who it is without even looking at the Caller ID. The stalker - Maddie's friend and fourth grade classmate.

Her big brown eyes are beautiful, and her tiny voice on the answering machine - MANY TIMES EVERY DAY - is as sweet as honey. "Hello, this is Maria*. Can Maddie please call me when she gets a chance?" Maddie does call her when she gets a chance; however, that never seems to be fast enough for Maria's taste. Within two minutes of leaving a message, she calls again, and again, and again.

We've tried various approaches. We've asked Maddie to speak to her about it at school, which she assures us she has done. "Maria, you only need to call me once. If we're not home, or I can't talk right then, I'll call you back later." "Ok," she says - and calls eight times, starting two seconds after she gets home from school where, I might add, she and Maddie have spent the entire day together. We've tried ignoring the phone, even turning off the ringer. But the answering machine beeping and clicking on and off repeatedly while we're having dinner isn't pleasant either. I'm sure the "experts" would advise us to take the assertive approach. When she calls again, just answer the phone and tell her politely that Maddie can't talk right then and we will have Maddie call her. After all, it's our house, our phone, our time, and our child. Right? Well, guess what? We tried that! It didn't work either.

Call me a weakling, a coward, a wimpy parent, but... we have adopted a new approach. Maria comes to our house. As a matter of fact, she spent the entire weekend here. The irony of this whole thing is that she's very meek and well mannered. So, when she's here, I don't even notice there's an extra child in the house. I know, I know... It's not a viable long-term alternative. But until I can think of something else, I'm embracing the age-old Looney Tunes philosophy: "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" Hey! It's all for the sake of the cause: peace and quiet.

*Names have been changed to protect the obsessive.

The Night in the Pink Closet

2008-01-08T18:25:00.003-06:00

Our family spent last night in a closet. The whole family in a tiny pink closet. We didn't exactly sleep, and we did come out from time to time. So maybe saying we spent the night in there is a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. No, we weren't having a pajama party on a school night. We were simply following the weatherman's strict instructions to "take cover". The weirdest "winter" weather I've ever experienced slammed into our little part of the world last evening. My mom was on the phone first thing this morning informing me that she heard on the news these were the worst January storms in this region since the 1800's.

It was a sneaky storm too. For three days before it hit, the weather was gorgeous, complete with record-setting highs. Then, yesterday about 5:00, everything got still..and dark. The wind blew and it rained. It was eery but not scary - yet. During dinner, we turned on the news "just to be safe" and already a tornado had touched down about forty miles west of us - headed right toward us. That's when we "took cover", tornado language for getting in the smallest, most cramped part of your house, contorting your body into the most uncomfortable position you can imagine and covering your head with soft cushy items like pillows and blankets to protect your head and neck from flying trees and crumbling houses. Sounds reasonable, right? So that's what we did. Not once, not twice, but three times. The storms just kept coming, one after another, from 6:00 pm to 4:00 am. They were moving as quickly as 70 mph, and they came in waves, complete with driving rain, baseball-sized hail and deadly twisters. Hence, the reason for hanging out in my daughter's pink closet.

Mackenzie, who's 12, cried silent tears. Maddie, whose closet was our temporary residence, hunched over with her knees drawn to her chest and shook. Micah, the five-year-old, sat on Dad's lap and played with the flashlight, asking, "Can we get out now?" continuously, until we all wanted to scream! We dozed, we held hands, and we prayed - for protection, for peace and for the people who'd already lost their homes and their lives.

It was all too familiar. Eight months ago, a tornado completely devastated Greensburg, Kansas, a farming community 10 miles from where my mom & stepfather, brother and sisters live. The kids and I had gone to help with the relief efforts, and they remember it well. So when they hear the word "tornado" they get very real pictures in their minds - pictures of a hundred cots set up in a school gymnasium, people sobbing out of grief and exhaustion, and strangers embracing as friends in the midst of a shared tragedy. Because of one storm, they know that nature is strong but God is stronger, that loss hurts but love heals. They've seen a town obliterated in 10 minutes and the townspeople plan to rebuild it 10 minutes after that. They know that courage and determination trump shock and fear every time. Oh yeah and one other thing... They know that when the weatherman says, "Take cover," we all go to the pink closet.

New Year's Resolutions and Taunting Treadmills

2008-01-04T11:17:00.001-06:00

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope each of you had a healthy, safe holiday season. I guess now it's back to the real world. I've decided that I have a love/hate relationship with the New Year. I love the idea of 12 fresh, new months unfolding before me. But... I hate my treadmill. The way it beckons to me from the corner of the room, taunting me with memories of all the food I've inhaled since.. well, Thanksgiving.

At the beginning of each new year, I used to make a detailed list of about a hundred completely unrealistic resolutions, psyche myself up and get started. I'd get up well before the sun and exercise for an hour. Then I'd shower, read my Bible and eat a nutritious breakfast, complete with two 8-ounce glasses of water. I was sweet and patient with my kids, professionally dressed for work and ON TIME everywhere I went. I ate a healthful lunch, taking time to stretch for 10 minutes and listen to soothing music. After work, I picked up the kids from daycare and school, hugging each one and asking how her day was, listening intently to their responses. Next came a healthful dinner that all the kids loved, after which the whole family snuggled and read books until bedtime. Do I really need to tell you the rest of the story? You got it - it lasted about 48 hours. Then I was back to my frazzled, breakfast (and exercise) skipping, tired, grouchy self. I always ended up feeling overwhelmed, anxious and miserable, which caused me to despise my "lack of discipline" and the first day of January.

Fast forward five years. I've learned from that vicious try-fail-hate myself cycle. Now, I do it differently. At the beginning of each new year, I 1) think about my priorities and 2) jot down a few things that I would like to improve on and one or two dreams I have for my life and family. It's encouraging to think back on the previous year and realize that I did learn, grow and change, even if only in small ways. I mess up a lot, and I still have a long way to go, but thankfully I'm not where I was 10 years ago. I fall short of expectations - my own and other people's. But the realization that each day matters and the assurance that God's grace is new every morning - not just some mornings - helps me keep things in perspective. When I think about the moments I'll share with the people I love, the books I'll read and the places I'll go, I feel grateful and optimistic about 2008. Who knows? I might even get up on that treadmill.

Magic in the Madness

2007-12-25T20:10:00.000-06:00

Today is Christmas. Our family's favorite holiday. So sometimes I wonder why it doesn't feel more, well.. magical. We wait for it all year, build up to it starting immediately after Thanksgiving. We have our own traditions, like cruising around town, with kid-sized Starbucks hot chocolate, listening to holiday tunes and checking out the best light displays. For weeks before, I bake, shop, address cards, and wrap gifts, just like many of you.

Our Christmas Eve routine goes something like this: We go to church. Then we come home, eat what the kids call a "snack dinner", then open our presents, all except Santa's of course. As we headed to church in our minivan last night, my son, who's five, was somber. The build up to Christmas, combined with the Kindergarten class party sugar buzz, had brought out the worst in him the last few days. And for a little boy worried about which list he would be on, it was a serious situation. He confided that he was afraid if Santa saw everything he did, his name might be at the top of the naughty list. After some discussion, we managed to convince him that he was a shoe-in for the nice list, based on our recommendation, especially if he sat still and listened intently during the next hour - Christmas Eve service.

The service was beautiful; classic Christmas carols and Scripture readings in candlelight helped me focus on the magic of Christmas. But the balcony was crowded and little children whined and squirmed while their parents grew more and more frustrated. We'd been there, done that, so instead of being irritated, I found myself thinking two things: 1) The chubby three-year-old who informed his daddy that "I will never play with you again!" was pretty cute and 2) I'm so glad it's not my kids this year.

After service, we bolted out the door toward the parking lot because the kids didn't want to "waste" one minute socializing while their presents beckoned from the other side of town. I was irritated. I had vowed not to let the Christmas chaos get the best of me, and here I was practically speed walking to keep up with my family, on a mission to open more stuff that none of us needs.

We threw "dinner" together - plates of fruits, veggies, chips & salsa, and cheese & crackers. Steve & I insisted on an orderly family dinner, pointing out that there was plenty of time to open gifts. (After all, we only give each child two gifts, and Santa gives one. That's what grandparents are for!). It didn't quite turn out that way. My son ate three carrots, two Ritz crackers and a slice of cheese, then hopped up from the table insisting that he was "stuffed". Against my better judgment, we abandoned the snack food and dirty dishes and headed into the living room to unwrap. The kids liked their Legos and CD's, but after all the frantic activity, there it was again. The feeling. That something was missing. That going through the motions of Christmas is not Christmas at all. That the white lights, red bows and fragrant Christmas tree do not Christmas make.

After we put the kids to bed, I sat in front of the fireplace, sipping peppermint hot chocolate (Steve's last-minute egg nog quest had been unsuccessful.). I was still, for the first time in weeks, and I forced myself to think about that night 2,000 years ago. God put on baby skin and laid down next to the animals in a Bethlehem stable. That's the part that always gets me. I can't wrap my mind around it no matter how hard I try. I get goose bumps, then I cry. I feel overwhelmed and humbled at the same time. I wonder why He did it. Then I remember, "For God so loved the world, that He gave..." That's what I almost missed in the rush of our routine rituals -- the simplicity of love. Come to think of it, I probably do that a lot.

Santa Claus Has Come to Town

2007-12-22T09:27:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Old Man Winter, our holiday plans have already been canceled, and Christmas is still three days away. We were all set to spend the weekend with my aunt, but the weather, and unexpected car repairs, rearranged our schedule. The kids were disappointed, of course, but at least they're getting old enough to understand that even Dad can't control everything. My mom was planning to meet us there too. Not getting to see Grandma, and the presents she brings, is what upset them the most.

So we all moped around the kitchen table, trying to make the best of it. It was about 8:30 and we had already recited our family mantra, "Everything happens for a reason," when the phone rang. It was Grandma - she had decided to come to our house instead of her sister's, even though it meant an eight-hour drive. "Tell the kiddos Santa Claus is coming to town," she said. "And she'll be there about 10:30." (I'm sure there's something sacrilegious in that statement, but the kids' excitement drowned out my penchant for 'Santa correctness'.) "I feel like Santa tonight," she continued. "I'm jolly, fat, and wearing my red jacket. Not to mention that I've got the Saturn sleigh loaded with toys and goodies." The kids howled and jumped up and down! "Grandma (hidden meaning - and the presents) is coming!!" they squealed.

Sure enough, Santa and her elf, my 17-year-old brother, "Uncle Michael", blew in right on schedule. They piled bags and boxes under our barren Christmas tree, while the kids made a joyful noise. Clapping and squealing, they hugged Grandma and danced around. She had done it again. Turned their sorrow into joy and their gloom into glee.

I adored their smiling faces and found myself wishing that all heartache could be so easily transformed into holiday happiness. Like my husband's 30-year-old friend, a husband and father himself, who had cancer surgery Wednesday. Marriages crumbling under the weight of infidelity. Children in foster care whose parents are prisoners, drug addicts, or just uninterested - only a sampling of the shattered families that won't be magically glued back together just because it's December. This is my grandpa's first Christmas in heaven. It's been 10 Christmases since my dad died, and it still hurts. I'm used to the hollow place that his death created, but the holidays will never be quite the same.

So... I'm learning that Christmas isn't always merry, that tragedy is no respecter of the calendar. But I've also learned that good people always give, especially at Christmas time, that love really is more powerful than.. well, anything. And, that given enough time and the healing salve of compassion, even the most tragic circumstances can give birth to hope and peace. With that in mind, I do what I can... comfort the grieving, give to the needy and hold sacred the blessings of this year. An unlikely Santa and little happy feet are at the top of my list!