tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61686529541920755982024-03-05T19:13:19.890-05:00Resting in the MysteryHeidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-85375440231954264702014-03-23T08:38:00.000-04:002014-03-23T08:38:08.869-04:00She Shares Truth--Jonah 1 & 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been reading over at <a href="http://shereadstruth.com/" target="_blank">She Reads Truth</a> for awhile now. I love the heart of the mission there! To join as women in a daily reading of His holy truth. To learn together. To worship together. To rest together in His truth. They've started a new project this season and I was excited to join in today! Here's what I'm getting from Jonah: <br />
There's so much to see in the story of Jonah! I'm learning so much by really digging in and mining for gold pieces that I can tuck away in my heart.<br />
<br />
In the first two chapters of this small, yet powerful book, I find a story that would make a good blockbuster movie. Feeling called by God, Jonah hits the ground running the other way. My favorite verse of that first chapter is the very last verse. <br />
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Verse 17 says this: <strong><em><span style="color: purple;">"But The Lord provided a great fish to swallow Jonah,..."</span></em></strong><br />
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Over the last few years, I've learned that often the very best things in the Bible begin with a BUT. It's no coincidence that just when all seems hopeless you'll often find that tiny conjunction. And when you see it, hold on! Because God is about to blow you away!<br />
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I mean seriously, as I read this story of Jonah and learn that he was just thrown overboard, I find myself thinking, we'll, that's it! That's where the story ends! And then it comes, "But The Lord," and in this case it's followed by, "provided a great fish to swallow Jonah," and I'm left thinking, what?! A fish? To swallow him? How can this end well? That's where God shows off, right where my doubt begins. <br />
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Jonah begins to pray earnestly, when he's in the worst place imaginable (been there done that, minus the fish!) He remembers all that God has done for him and he clings to it. For dear life. In verse 8 is where he got me, it reads, "Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs." <br />
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WOAH. <br />
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<em><span style="color: purple;"><strong>Those who cling (like me) to worthless idols (like family, food, exercise, my job) forfeit (give up, walk away, miss out on) the grace that could be theirs. (Jonah 2:8, NIV)</strong></span></em><br />
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We sing about God's grace all the time. It's AMAZING right? It's a concept that I find myself going back to over and over. Grace given to me from my Creator. Grace in the imperfect and the messy and the hard. It's often the hardest thing for me to give myself and those closest to me. But God gives it FREELY. Unless I cling to worthless idols (like I so often do) and then I FORFEIT that grace. Now I'm not the most competitive person. I don't like to lose but I'm the one who wants everyone to leave happy and feeling like everyone was a winner. I'm not like my dear friend who is the first to tell you that second place is the first loser. :) That being said, if we're competing in say a scavenger hunt in a strange town with a group of college kids, I'm not gonna quit. I'm NOT going to forfeit. I'm gonna give it all I've got. So why, why oh why, would I willingly give up one of the most precious gifts I've ever received, the precious, amazing grace of God? <br />
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<em>Dear Lord, Please help to me hear you, and more importantly to LISTEN to you. I want to feel Your grace. Help me to give up those worthless idols, God, so that I can experience all You have for me. </em><br />
<em>Amen.</em> <br />
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-86271766539156451152014-02-09T17:14:00.003-05:002014-02-09T17:19:02.997-05:00CommunitySometimes community is hard. Downright hard. Sometimes I feel like crawling in a hole with my family of 5 and shutting out the hard, scary, unpredictable world. I love my people. The people God has blessed me with. But too often I wear my heart on my sleeve and my expectations high and nothing can come from that except a big ugly mess. So what do you do? When the world is calling. When you've been invited out of your space into a slightly bigger place, a place with the possibility that you might be stretched and uncomfortable and vulnerable. What do you do? <br />
You go. You go because it's right. You tuck your bad attitude into the back pocket of your jeans. You bite your tongue when the sarcasm gets too thick in your mind. You look around the room at the people that God has placed in your life for this season and hopefully the next and you breathe in deep. You sit back and watch as your children join ranks with a larger than hoped for church youth choir and you blink back the tears when you hear their small voices sing "I Am Blessed" with the simplest of words and greatest of message. You stumble to the altar with a friend whose heart is still broken and you cry out to God to give joy. Joy only He can give. <br />
And you breathe. You inhale deeply so that more of His grace can fill you up. Always more of His grace. Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-55833432342060639782014-02-02T07:39:00.000-05:002014-02-02T07:39:06.652-05:00HeroI sometimes blame her for the crazy. For the temper that leaves me blindsided and crying over words I shouldn't have said. But let's be honest, if I'm gonna blame her for the bad, I gotta give her credit for the good. She's the one who taught me to look for the good in people. To talk to strangers if it meant making a connection and encouraging them. She's the one I see in the mirror. In the lines around my mouth where years of smiles have left their mark. She's the voice in my head when I doubt myself. My own personal cheerleader. <div>
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I can't imagine how she did it. And no it wasn't always perfect. Raising kids never is. Especially not on your own. I'm sure it didn't turn out like she imagined. I'm learning life rarely ever does. But for what she's given me. The good and even the crazy. I'll be forever grateful. </div>
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Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-59260771378798544012013-12-17T21:42:00.002-05:002013-12-17T21:42:56.849-05:00this seasonAn eighteen year old girl came over for help tonight. Help with math. I love math. {{I'm a nerd that way.}} But as we got to talking, I realized how much more she needed than math. Her fiancé just dumped her {{Which I was pretty happy about because HEL-LO! 18!!!}} But to see her sad eyes and hear her talk about him. Bless her. Heartbreak stinks. I remember it well and oh my. It just plain stinks. And of course I said the things we all say, "You deserve better!" "This too shall pass!" But I felt so cliché as I said it. As I stood with my baby girl washing dishes and cooking dinner for my family of five. I knew as I said it that it wasn't helpful. Even though she smiled and nodded and said all the appropriate things back. Poor kid.<br />
You see I taught this girl a few years back and I've seen her grow up in my church. Her parents split right about the time that she left my classroom and to say it was messy is an understatement. Her oldest sister sorta took her to raise, although to hear her tell it she doesn't need any of that. Her momma is "finding herself" with her new husband and her dad just recently married a nice lady who has a family of her own. She is in her first semester of college and is doing just fine. Except that somehow her apartment was subletted so she has to be out in a week and she has no idea where to go. She was welcomed to her dad's house, but even though it's her home, she doesn't feel like it's home anymore what with all the "new" family. Her mom doesn't have room for her and the boy she was planning on marrying in a few months just decided he wasn't mature enough for her (which is the truth!) but still a rough pill to swallow at this exact moment. I swear if I had turned my back and just listened, I would have sworn it was my eighteen year old self standing there with a similar bag of issues and all the loneliness. Bless her. As I was recapping our conversation with my husband when he came in from ball practice with our oldest, I gladly admitted that I didn't envy her one bit. "I've been where she is," I said, "and while I know now how it all works out, I was not convinced back then that it'd ever all work out." Families are hard. At any age. Life is hard. At any age. I'll admit I've been more than frustrated over the last couple of months with the waiting season that we are in right now. But talking with that sweet girl in my rental kitchen with the holey linoleum and the subfloor in the dining room while holding my sweet healthy girl on my hip and sinking my hands into scalding hot dishwater, I have never been more thankful for this season. <br />
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Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-27331714999864221502013-10-13T22:31:00.003-04:002013-10-13T22:31:20.455-04:00my placeI found myself sobbing today. I thought I was past that. That I had honestly cried every tear that I could. I'm having a hard time with this. And I've dealt with some big stuff over the years. But this. This is hard. For ten years we've lived this precious life. Sure we've had hard times. But we've formed this safety net of church family and friends. I love them all dearly. <br />
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I feel like I'm pulling away now though. It started this summer. When we hit the road. I was terrified. I said good bye to my friends and we left. And things changed. Yes, we came home. But even still things changed. And now things have changed even more and while part of me wants to be with this family we've chosen, another part of me wants to pull away. To hold tightly to the ones in my house and run away. Because if you don't get close. You can't hurt this bad. Right? <br />
<br />
<br />
And then I know that's not right. As I looked across the fire tonight to see a dear friend helping my oldest roast his hotdog. I know we need those people. And as the kid from our Sunday School class (who's not a kid, but still) asked me questions that I just don't have answers for. I felt my place. I'm needed here. In this place. With these people. If only in a minute role. I am needed. They are watching. They are wondering how to deal with this and while I don't have a clue, I know that we do it together. And that we reach out for Him. Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-66559270656488804062013-10-13T22:21:00.002-04:002013-10-13T22:21:52.037-04:00A New PlaceWe're in this new place. It's awkward and weird and quite frankly it scares me. <br />
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My dear friend buried her husband last week. And now we're all in this weird place. Most importantly her. Please don't think I'm trying to take away from that. I feel guilty to even be saying this. Any of it. <br />
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I want to help. I want to be there. I want to cry with her. Remember with her. I want to cook for her or do her laundry. I want to help.<br />
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But I don't want to smother her. I want to give her space to breathe and grieve. <br />
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And if I'm honest, really honest, I kinda want to run away. To get far away from the pain and the memories. <br />
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My heart is broken for her. Seriously broken. I want to take away her pain. <br />
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But I don't know how. I have no idea.<br />
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I've tried to put myself in her shoes and I imagine that while I'd need the attention and company for awhile, I think I'd need space too. I think I'd need people around me who maybe didn't know. Who wouldn't look at me with sad eyes. Who wouldn't ask me how I was doing. Cause really, isn't the answer always about the same? I would need time with just my kids. To work through this as a family. To find a new normal. <br />
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But really, what do I know? Nothing. Nothing at all. All I know is that God's plan is bigger. And though we cannot see or understand (nor will I ever) that it IS part of God's plan. And every.single.thing works to His glory. Every.single.thing.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-45300453442970373362013-10-02T22:56:00.002-04:002013-10-02T22:56:42.689-04:00LossWe lost someone this week. Someone close. I still can't wrap my mind around it. It still seems like a dream. Stories are starting to come. Amazing things that we know only God could have done. Little things. Maybe big things that we just can't quite see yet. My head hurts and my heart is broken. Shattered for my friend who will bury her husband tomorrow. For my husband who will bear yet another casket of yet another friend. For the kids who have just lost their daddy. For my kids who will miss out on really knowing one of the most generous people I've ever known. I've cried more than I can remember crying in a long, long time. And just when I think I cannot shed another tear, another memory pops up. <br />
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Please pray for us. For my friend. Her girls. And us.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-92082363975450482462013-09-22T16:22:00.001-04:002013-09-22T16:24:28.907-04:00Five Minute Friday--she<br />
Linking up with <a href="http://http://lisajobaker.com/2013/09/five-minute-friday-she/">Lisa Jo.</a> <br />
<br />
She has hair that has less gray than mine. <br />
And yet her almost 83 years beat mine by half a century. <br />
I've heard some say its because she doesn't know stress like we do today. That thought turns my mouth up a bit as I laugh to myself. <br />
She raised 4 children. 3 of them boys. She knows stress. <br />
She was the baby of 9 children and watched he favorite brother die when she was young. She knows stress. <br />
She buried her husband far sooner than she or any of us expected. She's gone on 10 years without him. She knows stress. <br />
She's seen most of her siblings go on home now. Both of her parents too. <br />
She's seen the births of 9 grand children and 19 great grands. <br />
She is what holds our family together. Even in the darkest of times. <br />
Maybe she just knows who to give the stress to way better than we do.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-53874659160663960362013-09-13T07:28:00.001-04:002013-09-13T07:28:15.287-04:00Five Minute Friday: Mercy<p dir=ltr><br>
Linking up with <a href="http:// http://lisajobaker.com/2013/09/five-minute-friday-mercy/">Lisa Jo. </a></p>
<p dir=ltr>I remember that unrelenting game as a kid. The one where someone twisted your arm or crammed your head under their arm and squeezed with all their might. You were stuck...until you screamed MERCY! I was never one for pain, so I was usually quick to yell mercy. But occasionally, I'd grit my teeth and push back. Or hold on. It can't be long before they'll give in, I thought. I can do this. Can we say stubborn?<br>
Flash forward twenty or so years and it's far too often that I find myself in the same position. No my arms aren't twisted behind my back and thankfully I'm in no one's head lock...per say. But I am overloaded. Overwhelmed. Stretched thin. And while I know better. Far to often I find myself digging in, gritting my teeth and thinking just hold on, this can't last long. <br>
It's then, that I hear Him most. At the end of my rope. When I just can't take one more thing and I'm about to (or maybe already have) pitch a grown up sized tantrum titled 'woe is me'. That's when I hear Him saying, just say it. Just call out to me. And I will give you mercy. </p>
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-48566428658628625412013-09-05T22:36:00.001-04:002013-09-05T22:36:51.977-04:00Five Minute Friday: REDFive Minute Friday: RED<br />
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It's the color of my high school. My alma mater. It's the color of my first car. My favorite sweater. It's the color I see when my middler is crying for the umpteenth time in five minutes over which pair of shoes to wear. But more than that, it's the color of my salvation. <br />
It's the color that poured from my Savior's side. It's the color that washed me. White as snow. It's beautiful and raging and calming and loud. It's a sign that I'm His. Not long for this world. A sign that I'm not home yet.<br />
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Linking up with <a href="http://http://lisajobaker.com/2013/09/five-minute-friday-red/">Lisa Jo.</a>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-57688231065770644412013-08-06T23:03:00.000-04:002013-08-06T23:03:55.596-04:00Our PeopleWhen we began this summer, this summer of travel and the crazy that comes with it, I was scared. Scared for a number of reasons. One of which was because of all the things we'd miss. Summer at our house has always been pool dates with friends, late night fires with hot dogs & s'mores, McDonalds after church with friends, & last minute picnics in the park. Miles from home and those friends, what would our summer look like? <br />
Yes, this summer has looked different. There's been a lot of family time. But one of my favorite memories of the summer was the second night we were home after our first trip when some of our best friends dropped by with pizza unexpectedly. We were just finishing up our dinner, but when friends show up with pizza and their kids to play with yours, you throw open the door and clear the table. Hours later, we sat around the living room laughing and catching up after three weeks of life on the road. I am so thankful for those friends. We needed that night more than they'll ever know.<br />
I love my husband dearly and have learned this summer that I would follow him to the ends of the earth. Even if it meant living in a hotel room with 3 littles for 2 weeks. {FYI...hotel rooms are small.} I love this family that we have. Despite the 'I'm not touching you's' and the occasional tantrums {some of which might be mine.} But I miss my friends. The group of people that we have surrounded ourselves with in our short 9 years of marriage. Those friends who don't need to ask if you need help, they just help. Those who bring you boxes and tape (even though you thought you had enough.) Those who let you cry over a house you wanted so badly to sell. Those who show up with pizza because they missed you. Those who bring Sonic drinks and take your kids without you ever having to ask. <br />
Life on the road has been fun. We've learned a lot and seen even more. But I'm thankful for the home that we have. The people that are ours, waiting on us to return.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-49991562620956889702013-08-03T18:12:00.000-04:002013-08-03T18:12:05.043-04:00Five Minute Friday: StoryYes, I realize it's Saturday. Sometimes that's when you get your five minutes.<br />
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Story<br />
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It's who you are. It what you have to bring to the table. It's one of my favorite parts of the job that they pay me to do. Hearing their stories. Getting a glimpse into their lives. For just a little while. Seems less for those of us in my grade because they leave us to go to a new building and some we never hear of again. And then there are those that years later I hear about and marvel at all that they've become.<br />
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Their stories are my favorite. And sometimes the hardest to hear. Most of them don't live in affluence. Their mamas and daddies are hard workers. Giving them all they've got. Most of them. And then there are those who aren't given much at all. Aren't treated well at all. And for those I pray that I can help their story. That they'll know if only for a second that someone loves them. Every part of them. That someone is cheering for them. From the sidelines of their life, even it's way back by their fifth grade year. Someone cares and believes in them and their story.<br />
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Joining in with Lisa Jo at <a href="http://http://lisajobaker.com/2013/08/five-minute-friday-story/">Five Minute Fridays.</a>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-64836854733831384592013-07-11T09:51:00.002-04:002013-07-11T09:51:51.225-04:00this old houseChris bought our house before we got married. I feel certain that he had no idea what this house would hold. When I walked into it almost 10 years ago, I know I didn't. I wish I had a picture of what it looked like to begin with. Just since I moved in, we have painted, changed the carpet, remodeled the kitchen, painted, remodeled the sunroom, changed the carpet, finished the laundry room, had numerous heat sources, added a bathroom and walk in closet, painted, remodeled the sunroom, changed the carpet, added a deck and painted. (Paint colors---not my thing. Nor Luci's.) Oh and the walk...don't even get me started on the walk.<br />
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We've become a family here. We came home as newlyweds here, praying our brothers didn't prank us. We decorated together...carefully at first. Not so much now.<br />
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To say we've learned a lot in this house, is an understatement of the greatest kind. Far less dinners are thrown away these days. Chris has given up the pipe dream that I'm going to mow, he'd rather me be able to breathe. As for stoking the fire in our cellar/basement in the middle of the night in January or ever really....hahaha, bless him. Two of three kids are out of diapers. Who am I kidding? Potty training was the easy part! The fact that they're all alive blows my mind some days!! With two in school this fall, I sometimes just shake my head in amazement.<br />
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We've become a family here. We've brought 3 tiny humans home from the hospital here. We've boiled bottles and wiped up puke. We've nursed fevers and prayed over a little one who wouldn't gain weight. <br />
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I know every creak and groan in these floors. I know when to put out the mouse traps because it's getting cooler and while I will never welcome rodents into my house, I've learned that they will always come. I know when it's time to clean out the dryer hose (or tell Chris too.) I know when a heavy rain comes to be sure to check on the yard because it doesn't take much to wash it all away. <br />
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We've hosted birthday parties, cookouts, pizza dinners, youth nights, and graduation celebrations. Good friends have shown up with pizza and conversation when we didn't even know we needed it. We've roasted hot dogs and marshmallows and listened to boys camp out much to our neighbors chagrin. <br />
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We've become a family here. These walls have heard arguments and slammed doors. The floors have caught our tears and felt jumps of joy. There have been quite a few "wootwoots!" within these walls. <br />
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I know this is just a house, and one that I have often cursed over the years, but I am going to miss it terribly. <br />
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God has blessed us so much here. And while part of me is terrified about what comes next, a bigger part of me is just in awe of watching God's plan for us. His plan for our family. Our home. Our lives. Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-8057942770005767902013-06-28T17:06:00.000-04:002013-06-28T17:06:08.828-04:00Five Minute Friday: In Between<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Five minutes to write whatever comes to mind. Here we go! </span></strong><br />
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It's the in between that scares me. <br />
The not knowing.<br />
The waiting.<br />
The hoping.<br />
How's it gonna turn out?<br />
How's it gonna go?<br />
Will this be painful?<br />
Will it bring us joy?<br />
<br />
I like real. <br />
Solid.<br />
Something I can hold onto.<br />
<br />
I remember graduating college and being terrified.<br />
Knowing what my next step was,<br />
but not being sure of it.<br />
That time in between.<br />
It was then that I grew the most.<br />
<br />
I remember bringing my first baby home.<br />
Being overwhelmed with emtion.<br />
Praying that I could really hack it <br />
when real life started up again.<br />
That time in between.<br />
It was then that I grew the most.<br />
<br />
The in between, that's when we learn, we grow, we rebuild. <br />
It's the part that, scary as it may be, counts the most.<br />
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Today I'm linking up with Lisa Jo over at <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2013/06/five-minute-friday-in-between/" target="_blank">Five Minute Fridays</a>.<br />
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Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-63077670679985215542013-06-25T08:33:00.001-04:002013-06-25T08:33:44.001-04:00home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Nothing feels better than these mountains surrounding me. <br />Wrapped up tight in the gorge toward home.<br />Spread out around in the valleys I love.<br />They're a part of me. <br />As much a part as my parents, my grandparents.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I never miss them more than when driving back through them after time away.<br />Whether it be short or long.<br />Seeing them again through new eyes every.single.time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Home.</span></div>
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Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-71998886382863460732013-06-21T17:26:00.000-04:002013-06-21T17:26:08.620-04:00Five Minute Friday--rhythm We're in our third week of summer over here and usually by this point we've figured it out. Some sort of rhythm. It could be the 17 hour drive we took in the first two days of school being out. Might be that. The 3 week sort of vacation we've been on. Might be that. I can't quite put my finger on it. But maybe this is just the rhythm we need right now. The chaos. The crazy. The relaxation before the craziness to come. The sleep in, read a lot, rest a lot, swim a lot, wander a lot....it's somewhat peaceful really. This season is just that, another season. I know it'll pass soon and maybe before I've even figured it all out...so I need to embrace it for what it is, right?<br />
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I'm linking up with <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2013/06/five-minute-friday-rhythm/" target="_blank">Five Minute Friday</a>.<br />
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<br />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-9538206384165080362013-06-21T01:48:00.001-04:002013-06-21T02:01:53.151-04:00Celebrate<p dir=ltr>We got an offer on our house. A legitimate offer. Holy cow! We got an offer!<br>
So we celebrated with 1/2 price Sonic shakes, because...why not? (And we got an offer--we didn't win the lottery!){{Of course a million things could go wrong and this could all fall apart....but c'mon, you have to celebrate the small stuff right?}}. Listing 3 times in 9 years, lots of sweat and tears put into remodeling project after project....an offer of any kind must be celebrated. Right?</p>
<p dir=ltr>We're headed home from our Texas adventure tomorrow. A week early (not because of the offer....because the job is done...what's that? You see God's hand in the timing...yeah me too.) So on our 15+ hour drive home, amidst my prayers for safety, the quiet hum of my children as they all three sleep peacefully (ha ha), & trying not to eat my way through three states, I'll be searching for a place for us to go. A place for us to call home before the next job in Baltimore. The one we're scheduled to leave for right before we close on the house. Like 4 days before. Holy cow. </p>
<p dir=ltr>In mid-May Chris and I jokingly said this was going to be an adventurous summer.. little did we know! {We also jokingly said we could always move into my classroom if we had too...not too funny now!}</p>
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-44935387526402032122013-06-19T10:58:00.003-04:002013-06-19T10:58:42.231-04:00This Day<div align="center">
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I want to remember this day. My day. When Chris took off work and we slept late. He served me eggs and cheese because the muffins were moldy and we're leaving in a few days so I refuse to buy more groceries!! The way the big ones (can they really be that?) pounced on me with shrill screams and toothless grins while the baby constantly dropped her head on my chest. <br />
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How I convinced them into the National Cowgirl Museum because I knew their short attention spans wouldn't make it till the afternoon. How overwhelmed I felt by all the photos of the women: ranchers, cattle hands, performers...all cowgirls in their own right. How overtaken I was by the strong feminism of the place. I know nothing about ranching or rodeos, but I felt a connection with these women. Doing what they loved. Following their dreams, their hearts. In a time when it wasn't safe or considered right. How breathtaking.<br />
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I want to remember showing Daddy all the cool things that we saw last week while he worked. Sharing our day with him. A weekday. Pulling my big girl into my lap (despite my swimmy head) because the giant screen scared her. Feeding The littlest chickadees to keep her quiet so Daddy could enjoy the show too. Watching my young scientist explore and learn, even though he's already too cool. Holding his hand during the scary parts of the 3d movie, thankful he wasn't too cool for that.<br />
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Even the leaving the ice cream place part because sometimes when you're seven and it's not all.about.you you just have to melt down. It's ok. I've been 7 before. I've been 27 and melted down much the same way.<br />
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get out of the parking lot. Of Texas clouds and kid sized cowgirl boots that started out as a joke and ended up as a steal!!<br />
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Of ice cream till our bellies hurt and kids with second winds that hold on long past mom and dad.</div>
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Thank you Lord for this day. This place. This time. These people. I'm not worthy, but I am ever grateful.</div>
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Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-63701065095628049452013-06-18T00:19:00.000-04:002013-06-18T00:21:39.537-04:00consistentIn a few hours, my mom is going to call me. Because in a few hours, it will be exactly 32 years from the moment when she became a mother. I know she'll call because she always does. When I was young and lived with her, she woke me up, every year, at the same exact time. Often with a doughnut and a candle. When I was sixteen and at cheerleading camp, she had my friend and later college roommate wake me up with a snowball and a candle. Since I left her to go to college, and only came home one summer after, she has called. It's our thing. And at a time in our lives when we don't talk more than we do, it's a welcome gift. She is my mom. In every sense of the word. She raised me. She's my biggest fan. She's the one I want when I don't feel well or when the world seems to be against me. She's the voice in my head. She loves me even though I'm still that rebellious child who knows better. I get that stubbornness honest. From her. Thanks Mom. Love you.Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-30287909895427767802013-06-14T00:49:00.001-04:002013-06-14T01:04:20.633-04:00Listen-->Five Minute FridayDo you hear it<br />
No<br />
Just me<br />
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It's the quiet of the day<br />
The longest and shortest hours of my day<br />
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It's the hum of the ac<br />
Thank God for the ac in this heat<br />
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It's the covers shifting as they turn, especially the middle one, in their sleep<br />
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Listen can you hear it<br />
It's another day gone<br />
Another chance to give them all I've got<br />
Slipped right by<br />
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But it's also a glimpse at a new beginning<br />
Another chance to give them all I've got<br />
Coming up right before me<br />
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I've gotta grab it<br />
Hold it<br />
But not too tight<br />
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Brush it lightly<br />
Gently<br />
Calmly as though not to smother it<br />
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The years are going fast<br />
Even though sometimes the minutes seem so long<br />
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Listen carefully<br />
Or you'll miss them<br />
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I'm linking up with <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2013/06/five-minute-friday-listen/" target="_blank">Five Minute Friday</a><br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://8935CF22-A5E4-47A9-93E6-1FFDF52EB3F5/imagejpeg" />Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-7775196124701098962013-06-09T23:22:00.001-04:002013-06-09T23:22:14.894-04:00Taking Texas by the horns....or not<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So we ventured out....cause when you're in Texas and you've got nothing but time...well, and 3 kids....might as well see the sights! That and the library was not near as exciting on day 3. Clearly The Chief (librarian that is) was out to lunch when we came in as there was no hassle whatsoever. </div>
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I took the kids on a weekday to the Stockyards. As I typed "Stockyard" into my GPS I had to laugh because I don't live very far from a stockyard but I've yet to have ever been. Don't really care to go either. Livestock is not really my thing. Shocker. I know.</div>
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About a year ago though, one of my dearest friends took up with the rodeo and I've learned QUITE a bit about bulls in the last few months.--They just bought one and he's done ok, but the Brazilians can ride him so that's not good. (I have no idea what I'm talking about, this is just what I've heard!)-- So seeing a bunch of bulls being driven through town was a LOT more exciting thanks to my sweet bullriding crazed friends! I wish they could come visit because I'd love to experience this through their eyes! </div>
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I was pretty impressed with the whole Stockyards District. We took the kids back last night and saw the rodeo as a family. It was pretty cool! Our first and definitely not last! We even won $50 to the onsite store!! </div>
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This week was not all fun and games though. It's hard to be 15 hours away from your friends and family. Just hard. And while I know at the end of the day, the people in this apartment are my home and anywhere that we are all together is just that--home, it doesn't mean I don't miss the rest of the gang back home. </div>
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While we knew this trip was coming for Chris, we decided a bit late in the game that we were going to be going with him for the entire time. And I must say, I've put on a brave face. I've called it an adventure. I've googled fun things to do. I packed for "vacation" and tried to focus on all the cool experiences we were going to have. I honestly tried not to think about how hard it might be. </div>
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Until this week. And it hit me. Hard. In the middle of a Wednesday.</div>
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And for a few hours I had a little "woe is me in a new town with 3 kids mainly by myself for a month and I don't know anybody and strangers can be scary even when you're old" party. Then Chris came home from work. </div>
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And I took a deep breath. Counted the days and remembered how hard it was last fall. Without him. And then again in the winter. When he traveled back and forth and I could see the strain in all of us from the living just a few hours apart. The weekends spent driving and waiting. The nights when I just wanted to collapse from the sheer exhaustion. And the frustration in his voice from wanting to help but just being too far away. That was HARD.</div>
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And no, this isn't easy. But it's summer and we can sleep in and see the sights, hang out by the pool, eat lots of ice cream, make messes, and we can be together. Most importantly that. So I'll take it.</div>
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-19291465634274605482013-06-04T18:05:00.002-04:002013-06-04T18:11:54.837-04:00We Made It and the Locals Think I'm Nuts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, we're here. We're actually here! (Movie?) As soon as I cleaned up my classroom, turned in my records and got the ok from our school secretary, or sorta did (sorry Phyllis!) we headed out. About ten minutes into the drive, we hit traffic and my car did something weird. The little screen actually said malfunction. What the heck?! I literally poured over the manual while Chris worked on a way to get us moving again. A way that involved a back road that probably didn't help gain a lot of road, but we were moving and that seemed like an awesome thing 20 minutes into a 15 hour trip! </div>
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In our detour we learned that when you turned the car off and back on the malfunction light went away. So we ran with it for about 50 minutes. And then we stopped, turned the engine off, restarted it and were on our way again. Rinse and repeat about nine.thousand.more.times all the way to Texas! All I know is, God is good and we made it. Amen. </div>
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Stopping in Tennessee, the longest state in the Union, proved to be a good idea as we all rested well, ate a continental breakfast (my kid's first) and took off again. Twelveish hours of driving Saturday (through quite a bit of rain, some lightning & thunder that almost made me wet my pants, but thankfully no tornados--thanks friends for praying!) landed us in Ft. Worth around 8pm. Did I mention we somehow blew the fuses in the car so the old trusty DVD player we've had since Eli was two did not work at all the entire second day? Fun times.</div>
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But really, the kids were great. Little to no whining, arguing, complaining. Quite a bit of "are we there yet?", but that was to be expected. </div>
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We spent Sunday exploring, swimming and stocking up the kitchen. </div>
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Monday left us with Chris gone to work all day (that was why we came here!) So the kids and I slept </div>
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in (8:30 woot!woot!) and looking for the library (thank you GPS!) I must admit that I'm glad I had to find the library in order for the kids to earn their field trip when they get back to school (if we go 6 times this summer, they earn a reward) because the local library was pretty intent on NOT giving me a library card. They needed a paper copy of our lease, so I gave them one, they questioned whether they could take a Corporate Lease (wouldn't that be better?), then they questioned whether the street listed was even in this town (no I drove from North CAROLINA to jack your library books!!). Finally upon great review (basically every employee in the branch staring at me as if I'd lost every.last.marble) they gave me a TEMPORARY card that allows us to check out </div>
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3 books at a time. Three. 3. Seriously! </div>
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Today we returned our 3 books and got 3 more. I'm not even kidding when I say they checked to </div>
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make sure we had returned the others first. Like walked back to make sure they could lay hands on them. FOR REAL? I seriously thought about telling them that my plan was to smuggle out 3 books at a time every.single.day in June in essence robbing them BLIND. But I'm pretty sure my humor would be lost on them and my kids would be left out of the field trip in August. </div>
Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-36330181913573964932013-05-29T22:34:00.001-04:002013-05-29T22:35:37.452-04:00Brave<p dir=ltr>Two months ago I stood in downtown Atlanta gripping the hand of my biggest girl and thinking how truly brave my sister is. To move to a brand new city. Pretty much all by herself. To find and buy a condo. To navigate the traffic and public transportation. Did I mention mostly ALONE?</p>
<p dir=ltr>I silently wondered if I'd ever been that brave. At any single point in my 31 years. (And I'm pretty sure no, I'm a chicken.) <br>
So in my best attempt at bravery, I'm packing up our family of 5 to spend the summer on the road. TEXAS HERE WE COME!! </p>
<p dir=ltr>To be continued....</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdw5ofXwRzljZRu8jYhOCZGL5L9qq2ORYYHNO6phqKZc-fYJLO3xzrwUdFdShdB_eKd0sz8_gAfAad9MDACuwj9MeUGAgrD4gyqGhGiHq-9CiMdVkrvOJVCmGX559C-hP_tC252JYetE7U/s1600/IMG_20130406_141609_542.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdw5ofXwRzljZRu8jYhOCZGL5L9qq2ORYYHNO6phqKZc-fYJLO3xzrwUdFdShdB_eKd0sz8_gAfAad9MDACuwj9MeUGAgrD4gyqGhGiHq-9CiMdVkrvOJVCmGX559C-hP_tC252JYetE7U/s640/IMG_20130406_141609_542.jpg' /> </a> </div>Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-61967540991065527662013-02-07T23:16:00.001-05:002013-02-07T23:16:47.257-05:00recognizednearing the end of a long hard week. a week full of crazy. straight up dad's outta town, mama's gotta go outta town, calling in the friends and grandparents, packing, basketball tournament games, dance class, new teeth. just plain crazy. and in all of that....come the doubts.<br />
<br />
is it enough? am i doing enough? i don't mean in actual quantity of things, cause i'm dang sure there's enough things. i mean, am i doing it well enough to matter.<br />
<br />
i was blessed with the opportunity to travel with a few colleagues to hear my principal speak to our state school board about how awesome our school is (we won this award...yeah it's kinda a big deal). i got to stay in a hotel. with friends. {that of course means i got to arrange for my kids to be taken care of while i was gone. and well, we all know what sort of logistical crazy that means.}<br />
<br />
but it was awesome. <br />
<br />
awesome to stand in front of my state's school board and hear my boss explain that despite the challenges that our students face....they are still teachable. they have issues (who doesn't?) but we don't take their excuses. we meet them where they are and love them in spite of their bag of tricks. for 6 years we love them to pieces. we cheer for them and cry over them. we fall on our faces before our Father and worry over them. we push them and challenge them and lose sleep because of them. we tell them that they are worth it. that they are enough. we don't let them lose it over tiny things. we teach them to read, add, subtract, multiply, and divide. we take them 8 hours from home to see the nation's capitol. we take them to the bookstore and shopping for their families. we give them food bags and take them to the dentist. we hold their hands when bad things happen and convince them that there's still good in the world. bottom line....we love them. we love them as we want our own to be loved. <br />
<br />
i am thankful every.single.day for my job. it's challenging and tiring and often underappreciated. i know in my heart that we matter. that the day to day does make a difference. i know that they know i love them and that above all else, that's what matters most. but it felt good to be recognized today. to hear someone say, well done. Heidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168652954192075598.post-38414477614646492692013-01-22T22:05:00.001-05:002013-01-22T22:05:31.029-05:00Intentionally Grateful 211. Snow days<br />
12. Long weekends<br />
13. Kids slumber parties with papaw and mamaw<br />
14. Target shopping time with only 1 kid<br />
15. Students who are forgiving and willing to go with the flow<br />
16. Healthy babies<br />
17. A husband who cooks and cleans and loves us all unconditionally, even if it mean driving way more than he should have for us today<br />
18. Good dentist reports<br />
19. Fun mail<br />
<br />
TbcHeidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12391495091801935424noreply@blogger.com0