If You Ask About a Muffin...

A couple of weeks ago I was looking in the display at a restaurant at what looked like a scrumptious gluten free blueberry muffin.  Of course I knew I wasn’t going to buy it, one because it’s still laden with sugar whether it’s gluten free or not, and two, because like most baked goods, it probably had been made with eggs, my biggest allergen.  But, nonetheless, I asked the girl behind the counter about the muffin.  She said they were amazing but, yes, had eggs and sugar.

Within ten minutes she went from telling me about the gluten free muffin to going Paleo to doing Crossfit to sharing her journey of addiction to alcohol, meth, and food…her son’s health issues involving ADD and ADHD, and how difficult it is to be a single mom, not totally healed of her addictions and how angry she is at God about it.

I listened.  I shared a little bit of my story of disappointment with God and losing a son and my addiction to food, how there is no such thing as a secret, that God's a Big Boy and can handle her anger, and that He’s totally and completely in love with her no matter where she is on her journey.  We exchanged names and I told her I would be praying for her and her son.  And I’ve done so, because just saying it doesn’t mean squat.

As I headed next door to meet my husband and some friends, I felt like an hour had passed learning all that I had.  I hadn't wanted to be rude to keep everyone waiting...

10 minutes.  

Only 10 minutes had passed and as I relayed some of the information I gained from hearing this woman’s heart, my husband’s buddy just looked at me…and then he looked at Jason.  And he said, “You were over there 10 minutes and you found out all of that?”  “Yep.  Everywhere we go.  She can find out your whole life story in 10 minutes.  It’s crazy,” Jason said.  “Teach me,” said his friend.  Jason told him it was a gift.

I think he’s wrong.  Respectfully saying so, mind you.

It’s not a gift.

I just think everyone is worth knowing.  Everyone.

I believe we all have a story and our stories are important.  Even more so, our stories are meant to be told.  Little by little, sharing along the way, telling bits of the story to those ready to listen, and listening to those who are ready to share.

Our stories are never complete.  They don’t have “choose your own ending” and aren’t meant to be compared to the next person’s.  Our stories are on-going, ever-changing and still unfolding.  If we wait for them to reach a place of “peace” or “stillness” or “happily ever after” in order to share, we’ll have missed out on the point...

We are here on this earth for God’s glory.  He gets the glory when we live out the story He has written for us, all the while sharing it with others.  We were designed to share.  Not if we feel comfortable with the task or not, but because in sharing others get to find healing, too.

In my opinion, we need to stop talking and start sharing.

Are you ready to start sharing your story?

Some thoughts on Secrets

I wanted to share my heart about an encounter I had last Friday with a person I've held a, well, really, really big grudge towards for 5 and 1/2 years.

I don't feel like writing it twice, so here it is. 

If you are of the persuasion that the little secrets you hide deep in your heart, you know the dirty little ones that don't hurt anyone else, are actual secrets, I'd challenge you to think again.

God knows everything.  Literally.  Every.  Thing.

So, if there's a secret locked up in your life that is holding you back from being all you were intended to be, well, let's just say God knows about it and He's not keen on things holding you back from living a full life that glorifies Him. 

First He gently nudges us to expose it ourselves.  Initially.  This is always a better route.  But seeing as how the human race is just a tad stubborn, at least my own private sector, who in their right mind would expose our own imperfections or faults willingly?

A few more nudges.  Some hints.  And then sometimes God just plops us in a situation where we have to face it.  A place that calls a spade a spade, and if we're open to it, and repentant, admitting our sin, He forgives.

God knows.  And He is faithful to allow us to go through our crap in order to take part in the good stuff.

No. Really. Head on over...

I'm going to be running through a series over at my "Confessions of a 2nd Grade Closet Eater" blog over the next several weeks.

If you or someone you know, love, or even hate, is at a crossroads, has hit a wall, is stuck on a gerbil wheel with no end in sight, send them over there, too.

As always, in my truest, most candid form, I'll give you my guts.

And hopefully, that'll encourage yours.

Head Over to "Confessions"...

Helping out at Big Sis' class before Christmas.

So BIG in Mexico eating guacamole.

Sitting on a big boy little chair at Bebe's house.

Celebrating 40 with my family.

Just hanging out, having a drink in the drawer after a hard day of walking.

I shared a bit about Ryan today on my "Confessions of a 2nd Grade Closet Eater" blog. 

That boy has been teaching me a ton!  I tell you what, if we slow down and pay attention to the sweet, simple things in life, the potential for learning is limitless!

Little BIG Feet

If you don't know how much I love feet, scroll down to the bottom of this page...I'll wait...

Okay.  So, let me clarify, because by "love feet" I want to make sure it's clear which ones I mean:

• NOT stinky, sweaty, hairy, scaly ones
• BUT YES to: chewy, teeny, tiny, pink, plump, yummy ones

But seriously, I love the symbolism of feet.  Genetically we were designed to have two.  Whether we all have two or not, and whether they "work" or function as intended, doesn't disqualify us for the symbolism of feet or not.

You see, you, or someone you know, may have really big feet or small, petite ones, but it's the footprint you leave that will make the lasting impression. 

Five years ago when Noah died, he had the smallest feet in the family, simply speaking size here.  However, his teeny, tiny, chewy, yummy, sweet little feet left the biggest footprint on my heart.  His little BIG feet caused me to re-evaluate life on many levels and got these size 8's on the move.  Not just to move around and add chaos to the world, but on the move to start living the way I was intended and Designed to live.

Do I do it right all the time?  Nope.  I'm a student on this earth...

I just met another mom that loves feet.  And by "loves feet" I'm not so sure Chelsea loves them the same way I describe above, but it's clear she loves the journey and makes the most of her treasured times with her husband and their 3 sons.  And though from reading her blog I can tell she loved them well prior to meeting her most recent little BIG feet, it seems, once again, that a sweet little boy with teeny, tiny, yummy toes has "walked" into her heart and brought about even more joy, life and perspective, through love and heartache.

I was able to meet Trek and his Mommy and Daddy yesterday here in Colorado.  I even got to snuggle her little lover in my arms for a brief moment, trying to give Chelsea a chance to eat her breakfast, but Trek knows his mama and I handed him back into her loving arms.

Trek needs your prayers.  And so do his parents.  And his big brothers.  And their family. 

I have a crush on him, I'm not going to lie.  He is one handsome guy who gave me a few smiles and just reading about how he came into the world and how his life is inspiring others to live, well, you can't help but get a bit wrapped around his cute little toes.

Trek has a genetic disorder, one they tested Noah for.  His parents are so brave and strong!  They are going to spend his beautiful days here on earth building memories as a family.  As they do, please keep them all in your prayers!

The size of your feet do not matter...it's the kind of footprints you leave here on earth that make a lasting impression!

40, Full, & Fertile

Emily wants me to procreate once more.  She wants another baby brother.

She FINALLY thinks they are cute.

I just turned 40.  She was at the party...she remembers, however...

She's working on multiplication and division in school, but she's forgotten that 1 + 1 = 2 because Daddy doesn't want Mommy to procreate once more and he's the 1 that I would need in the equation.

I'm torn but not that torn.  I'm more tired.  Some women can tackle a bushel.  I'm not them...

Kids are a blessings, don't get me wrong.  And just because I turned 40 doesn't mean I think I'm too old to procreate...it's just that I thought I'd be WAY done with this scene, well, a few years back, to be honest.

I talked with a friend and told her our non-dilemma:  that Em is finally warming up to having siblings so now that we're done she would like another, please.

My friend has also lost a child.  She said she'd have a baby tomorrow if she could but doesn't feel like that's their path, either.

She thinks that we will probably always want "another" because we've lost children.  With a kid in Heaven the kitchen table doesn't seem quite full.

I think she's pretty smart.

I also know that having more or being perpetually pregnant will never fill the void of the one I lost.  I would never think that.  Though Ryan looks exactly like his big brother, he's not a replacement...which is probably why "I'm torn but not that torn" if that makes sense?! 

Torn because with each pregnancy I've lost and with each child that has stuck around, I've gotten a glimpse of beauty in meeting a new person I would not have met had I not walked through the pain.

Not that torn because I'm 40 and my heart is full and I'm loving the family I have been given like crazy and even though life hasn't turned out exactly as I had planned, it's still beautiful and I wouldn't change it.

Plus, I explained to Em that there are female and male sperm and that male sperm swim faster but tucker out after a bit but female sperm last longer so really it's a race to the finish, aka the egg, and whoever gets there first wins and if she wants a brother, there's no guarantee a male sperm will be the victor and what if she ends up with a little sister who would always want to play in her make-up, plus, I'm 40 so my eggs are getting old?! 

Sheesh!  The things I have to explain to this kid to get her off my back ;)

So, no, this is not an announcement, fyi.  My quiver is full...

Tebowing

So, unless you are a mole, living in a hole, you've heard of Tim Tebow by now.  Even if you aren't a fan of the Broncos, don't care for football, and really only watch the Superbowl for either the half-time show or commercials or attend the parties just for the food, I would guess if you live in America, at the least, you've heard of the fall season game centered around a pig-skin where a bunch of guys crunch into one another and even more people, called fans, paint themselves and go berserk every weekend and Monday night as onlookers.

If you still don't know what I'm talking about, forget about it.

For those of you still reading, I think this is pretty cool.

So, in November I met a family, friends of friends, who was spending time at Craig Hospital, a top facility here in Denver specializing in spinal cord and brain injury and rehabilitation.  Their 17 year old son was here learning a whole new way of living after an accident. 

Before I called or met the family face to face, I really felt strongly that our family was to reach out to them.  I've had a bit of history with hospital living, you might say,  so wanted to encourage them in any way they needed. 

I gave the mom a call and we talked a bit.  She was so sweet and kind, saying they didn't need anything at all, but after a bit more time, she was open to us coming by with dinner.  I asked her how long they thought they'd be here in Denver. 

She said until January 12th.

I got a little choked up because in my heart I knew it was God's way of saying, "I told you I wanted you to reach out to them...if that date's not a sign, then you are slower than I thought..."  Or something like that ;) 

Anyway, over the last month and a half as we've gotten to know them a little, I also learned another common date we share:  Yesterday...that is, besides it having been Elvis' birthday, it was my 40th and their son's 18th.  Before Christmas his mom had told me that he hoped to be home in time for his birthday.

When we got back from Mexico (we went for 8 days over Christmas and enjoyed the sun and quiet non-commercialism...more about that in another post)  I called to see how they were all doing and his mom said they had flights home for the 6th.  Such great news since that was 6 days early and he'd be home with other family and friends in time to celebrate his 18th Birthday!  What a milestone!

Ryan and I headed up last week to catch one more lunch with them before they flew home. 

As we ate I asked him how it felt to turn down the most famous man in the NFL.  

He humbly and quietly smiled, saying, "I just really want to go home."

You see, Tebow (well, his people) had given this guy a pass to yesterday's play-off game and the opportunity to meet Tim face to face...and as cool as that would have been for an 18th birthday gift (heck, my 9 year old daughter who didn't really like football until the last few games thought it was even cool...), it would have extended his already long stay here in Denver by a couple more days.

It's a generous gesture, but what I've gathered from Tebow's heart over the last several months and all the media reports, I'm guessing and would even bank on it, that Tim Tebow would have cheered this guy on, saying, "Go home, man!  I'll be praying for you!"

Nifty, Thrifty, but not Fifty

(I'm turning 40 on Sunday, but fifty rhymed, that's all)

So, my mom taught us girls to be thrifty...not to a fault where we'd snatch up a boatload of crap just because it was cheap, but to always look for quality at a good price.

She also taught us that EVERYTHING would one day be on sale.  Everything.

In elementary school I was donned from head to toe in Polo, Izod, and Levi's...all usually found at Marshall's or TJMaxx, all at discounted prices.  And my Gap and Guess jeans of the 80's were found on sale, too.  My K-Swiss and VANS could also be found on sale, people!  (So EIGHTIES!) 

I will confess something, however, and that is:

I never went to Thrift Stores in Junior High or High School.  

I was conceited and thought I was too good for such a thing.

Let me tell you a new confession:

With an income level of FIFTY BUCKS A WEEK in college, I discovered Thrift Stores.

I've been a faithful shopper ever since.

And, I've even exposed my daughter to Thrifts, along with TJMaxx, of course.

I'm in that group of girls that loves to say, "This?  Oh, I got if for a dollar!"  Or something like that, anyway...

So, this post has no other purpose than to share with you my "Show and Tell" from my Goodwill adventure today with Ryan.  Items 5, 6 and 7 are from a resale shop where everything was 50% off today.  Here goes:

1. 1 Gap sweater dress for Em, $1.99
2. 1 Super cute brand new w/tags girly polo style shirt for Em, $1.99
3. 1 Brand NWT Nike Fit Dry shirt to train for Avon Walk, $1.75 (this was half off...)
4. 1 Brand NWT Champion Double Dry shirt to train for walk, $1.75 (1/2 off, too...)
5. 1 Kelly Green MIMI & COCO long sleeved yoga shirt, $7.00 (resale)
6. 1 Black sweater White House/Black Market, $7.00 (resale)
7. 6 Chocolate silk and bead mini lampshades for kitchen chandelier, $7.00 for set (resale)
8. 1 Pair Banana Republic jeans, "Urban Flared Leg," for me, $5.99
9. 1 Baby Gap dress shirt for Ryan, $1.99
10. 1 Plaid dress shirt for Ryan, $1.49
11. 1 Short Sleeved dress shirt for Ryan, $1.49
12. 1 Carter's zip sweatshirt for Ry, $1.49
13. 1 Cashmere scarf, made in Scotland, NWT, $4.99
14. 1 Pair CL by Chinese Laundry brown leather flats, barely worn, $5.99
15. 1 Pair cheapo Zoe&Zac eggplant little flats with bow, $2.50 (1/2 off sale...)
16. 1 Pair Nine West fabulous stilettos for Spring, $2.50 (1/2 price)
17. 1 Pair Black JOAN&DAVID GORGEOUS pumps, BARELY WORN, $19.99

Total with tax:  $81.21

Yes, item 17 was a bit of a splurge, but, if you price compare, these babies retail at $200 which I wouldn't spend on shoes, so, there you go.

Random post, I know.  But maybe you'll be inspired to "Recycle" this year by donating your stuff to your local charities and heading into your nearest Thrift for a little looksee.  You never know what treasures you might find!  Thrifting ROCKS!