Loveolution

We need to start a "Loveolution."  Actually, we need to carry out what was already started years ago...like, thousands of years ago, where EL. OH. VEE.  EE. was the headline news, not the other crap on TV, but news worthy in that it was spoken and acted out, person to person, in real life, God to man. The kind of news where people ran from town to town to tell how their lives were radically changed, for eternity...

Love + Revolution = Loveolution

Love is, according to the "Free Dictionary":

• A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.

Revolution is, according to the "Free Dictionary":

• 1a.  Orbital motion about a point, especially as distinguished from axial rotation: ie, planetary revolution about the sun.
• 1b.  A turning or rotational motion about an axis.
• 1c.  A single complete cycle of such orbital or axial motion.
• 2.  The overthrow of one government and its replacement with another.
• 3.  A sudden or momentous change in a situation.

So, picture this:  all of us, every. single. one. of. us. orbiting, or rotating our lives, NOT around our own intentions, motives, or seemingly selfless behaviors, but around LOVE.  Loving God first, loving ourselves the way we've been created, and loving everyone else with whom we come in contact.

INTENTIONAL LOVE.

It's not easy.  Some don't, or won't, love God.  They have too many walls to even believe He is good, or that He exists at all.

Others, like I've done in the past, don't, or won't, love ourselves, grateful for all our quirks and imperfections that add to the beauty and variety of life.

And loving others...even the crusty weird neighbor or crotchety relative who is negative, negative, negative?  Even that one?  Ummm, that's not easy.

Yeah, but who said it's supposed to be easy?  We want it to be, but loving is tough stuff, because we all have rough edges and we've all been hurt.

Our "underlying oneness" from the definition above is that God made us all...

We need a Loveolution.  

Before any more laws are passed and any more hate is spread, we need to literally STOP.  I don't give a rip about what kind of government is or isn't in place, if we don't have love, it doesn't mean jack squat.

Imagine if all the hate in the world was overthrown with a Loveolution?

With this previous election, there were days where I could taste bile in my mouth because of how nauseous I was from all the hatred being spewed...and from people who use my Lord's name...in vain.

Don't pervert my God!

People think using God's name in vain is what people yell at the opposing teams at a sports match, or at the guy who cut you off in traffic.

Using God's name in vain is claiming to be His yet not walking in LOVE.

Stop.  Don't do it.  How sickening that the name of Jesus Christ is being perverted by people spreading hatred!  It's opposite of Who He was, Who He is, and Who He is supposed to be in us.

I'm a Christian woman.  This means I am a forgiven human who has an intimate relationship with the Creator of the Universe because of His selfless action of unconditional love, God becoming a man in order to know what earth-life really is like, outside of His physical presence.  This doesn't mean I am perfect or ever claim to be.  It just means I'm not using His name in vain, for my own selfish ambition, but out of thankfulness for being saved from my sorry self.

Religion is death.  Don't equate a relationship with God with the word "religion."

A relationship with Almighty God is awesome and intimate and holy and beautiful, and messy on our part, but moldable and completely attainable here on earth, not because of our actions or behaviors, but because God loves us, each of us, and extends that love and grace to us every day.

I mean, what would happen if there was a sudden and momentous change in the earth towards Love?  You know, praying in school, to God, doesn't hurt anyone.  It doesn't hurt anyone in any religion that does claim God.  And it won't hurt the people in school who don't believe in Him because it won't affect them, right?!  I mean, they don't think He's there, so, let's just bring it back.

I heard today that the Mayans never foresaw December 21st as a physical end of the world as we know it, but rather a spiritual end of the world.  Wow.  That's much more profound than all the previous town criers who have even written books or purchased air time for their untimely foreshadowing.

The world I live in today is in pain.  It's dark.  Sometimes it's difficult to see the Light, but He is there, shining, moving in hearts, one at a time.  I won't live in fear because I have hope and I know there's more to this life than what I see.

However, in the meantime, I live here.  I breathe the same air as Jesus once did and as horrible dictators do in war-torn countries.  We all spin on the same physical axis and orbit around the same sun, but we aren't all revolving around the same Love agenda.

We need to, though.  We need a Loveolution.  And we need one NOW.  No more wasting time.  The time is NOW to start loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our fellow man.

We need a Loveolution.

Love, SPREAD IT!

God's agenda has always been LOVE.  The Devil, on the other hand, has never been anything other than an asshole.

Hate evil.  Cling to what is good.  Do not live in fear but know that Perfect LOVE casts out all fear.

A LOVE REVOLUTION.  It's time we got started...

Knee-Jerk Reaction

I'm nauseous. 

Sick to my stomach.

There's a pit deep in my guts that hurts and aches.

Part of it aches and mourns for the families of the sweet Kindies and staff in Connecticut who were brutally shot down by a guy who was really just another kid, only taller.  

20 years old.  What were you doing when you were 20?  I was studying Spanish III, Humanities, and Major World Religions.  I was laughing with friends, in the dorms, at the cafeteria, over at the gym.  Every Thursday night I was leading a small group of girls in Bible study and prayer, just trying to figure out how to navigate college and life.  I was heading out on date nights with my then boyfriend, now husband, and having girls’ night out with my 30 closest "BFF's".  I was "being" 20.

Another part of my heart aches for all the "leftovers."  I hate that fear and despair and nightmares and only memories and empty places at kitchen tables are now reality for some families on the East Coast.  I hate that kids just lost their playground playmates.  

Planning a funeral for your kid is a heart wrenching thing.  

I also know what it's like to be in 3rd and 4th grade and lose friends.  It sucks.

Our Country needs a priority check.

Last month people left and right were warring with words and signs and sentiments about how our Country needs change.  I was physically sick some days in my guts, deep in the pit of my stomach, at how much hope and hopelessness was being placed, or not placed, in political figures and laws and policies, in humans.  Really?  

As if ONE MAN or WOMAN has that much power or influence...

Our World needs a priority check.

Tragedies happen like tsunamis and earthquakes and fires and floods and hurricanes, and shootings, and people join together to help for a time.  Hug a little tighter, share possessions, wipe tears.  And, from my observation and personal experience, fear then sets in.  For some it is crippling to the point of isolation, for others it produces paranoia, still others violence as a protective measure.  I’ve literally stared at my son for 2 years.  I get it.

But the only knee-jerk reaction that we as a Country and as individuals need to take is the kind that bends our knees and bows our heads and hearts.

Because ONE MAN or WOMAN does have that much power and influence...to literally change the world.  But it has to happen in our hearts first.  It must happen with our knees physically bent, heads bowed, hearts laid bare before God, the ONLY ONE WHO CAN BRING HEALING IN THIS BROKEN WORLD.

We need a priority check that places God back as the number One priority.

I'm sick of the political "correctness" and spiritual "correctness" in our attempts to "build" bridges.  

So far, the attempts have done nothing but bring out our ugliness.  People are fighting for their right for this or that, freedom to do what they want, say what they will.  The choice to do whatever, whenever, wherever, with whomever.

Me, me, me, me, me, me, me.  But that's fine for you, you, you, you, you.

YES!  ONE MAN or WOMAN does have that much power and influence, and we've seen it can be for either good or evil. 

I think the words were, "Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven."

None of this is God's will.  None of it is His wrath.  Stop being pissed at Him.  He has never stopped being good.

The shit hits the fan because we think we want to be in charge.

I know in my own life, it's not working for me...the part of me being in charge.

Our Country needs a knee-jerk reaction, that's for sure.  But it's not for or against guns and it's not in a mass exodus towards homeschooling.

Every.  Single.  Knee.  All of them.  Both of mine.  

Bending.  Bowing.  One man, one woman changing the world, two knees at a time.

We need revival.

"Pink Snow"

Here's a re-post of something I wrote almost two years ago.

With a fresh blanket of snow on the mountains, and knowing how quickly it comes and melts away here in Colorado, this post keep coming to mind as I gaze at the mountains in the West.

I hope you enjoy.

photo courtesy of: snow-forecast.com

Where Lies Your Beauty?

Today, Em and Ry and I were walking through Walmart.  As we stopped to honk the bike horns on the aisle display, parked between youth men's clothing and the craft aisles, my eyes locked on the new Sport Illustrated swimsuit calendar, displayed right next to the Justin Bieber and Harry Potter posters.  Thankfully, come December 21st, all the "athletes" who purchased the calendar already, you know, for "sports" inspiration, oh wait, I mean for the articles, won't even get a chance to look at it each month.

photo "courtesy" of Sports Illustrated 2012 Swimsuit Issue #$%^&*

Tongue.  In.  Cheek.  If only the Mayans were right!  I'm looking forward to my destination...

This display, with two extra large calendars side by side, was at Ryan's eye level.  He was too busy honking the bike horns to notice.  Thank.  You.  Jesus.

However, Em's eyes went there and I caught it in the corner of my eye, taking mental note of her response.

We headed to the check out and then to the car.

Me:  Em, I know you saw that poster of the woman in a bathing suit.  What did you think about it?

Em:  I thought it was kind of weird.

Me:  Why did you think it was weird?

Em:  Why would you take a picture of a girl in a really small bathing suit like that?

Me:  There's a magazine called, "Sports Illustrated," that is supposed to be a magazine about sports.  You know, like football, basketball, baseball, soccer, tennis, swimming, lacrosse.  You know, sports.  But every year they have one publication dedicated entirely to women in their bathing suits.  What do you think about that?

Em:  What does that have to do with sports?

Me:  Uh-huh.  Who do you think might look at that particular magazine?

Em:  Someone who is kind of weird.

Me:  Actually, it could be anyone.  But do you think it's necessary or beneficial to the person looking at it?

Em:  No.  It could make them think all girls should look like that.

Me:  Some religions have gone to the extreme to make women cover themselves, as not to draw attention to their outward beauty.  There is nothing wrong with being beautiful.  God made us that way.  But there's a problem in our culture, in particular, Em.  Some women don't know they are beautiful.  They believe that what shows on the outside is what matters, and by wearing very little they will get the attention or approval of men.  Our culture has gone to the extreme by encouraging women to wear very little, focusing on our outward appearance.  What do you think about that?

Em:  I want people to know me and love me for who I am on the inside.

Me:  Yeah, me too.  There's nothing wrong with wearing a bathing suit, Em.  Please don't hear that.  What I'm trying to say, that's difficult to understand, is some people look at models and then compare themselves to them, wishing they were like them, assuming they are perfect.  Mommy felt badly about herself for years because I believed in my head those girls were prettier than me.  And, then other people might compare the people in their lives to the women in the calendar, wishing their wife or girlfriend was more like her.  Some guys then get feelings for the women in the magazine and want to be married to them, wishing they could have sex with them, instead of their own wife.  What do you think about that?

Em:  That's really sad.

Me:  Em, God made you.  He made all of us with unique gifts and strengths, and we are all beautiful.  It's the world that has tainted that beauty.  I mean, it's so messed up, Em.  Take, for example, chips.  Some companies have hired a beautiful woman with big boobs and very little clothing to eat chips in their commercial.  I'm not sure what that has to do with chips, but it sells because guys watching the commercial are drawn to the sexuality of the woman.  What do you think about that?

Em:  I think she ate too many chips and her boobs got fat.

Me:  (*note to self:  save breast implant conversation for another day...dear God!)

Me:  Em, the point is:  our beauty comes from inside.  Some people have tried to make women into objects of beauty, just by focusing on our outward appearance.  We are a bigger deal than just gorgeousness!  We are brilliant, smart, kind, and we can change the world!  Literally!  We are not simply objects and our beauty isn't just on the outside.  If it is, we're in big trouble because we get wrinkly and crunchy with time :)  There's nothing wrong with being beautiful, Em.  Period.  But do you think a guy looking at a magazine full of women who are barely covered makes him want to be a better man to God, his wife, and his kids?  Or to his future wife?

Em:  I think the calendar is stupid.

Voila! Perfecto!

I'm blogging here today.  And there are pictures!


More to come on the gingerbread progress...

"Food Fight!!!!!"

A couple weeks ago Jason was rude.  And I mean, weird rude.  

To me it seemed totally irrational and out of nowhere, and in 20+ years of knowing him, I should know...because Jason's not rude.  It's not his nature or in his character to be rude.  He's the most thoughtful man I know.

I mean, I had bought extra hot dogs and sausages.  For most guys, I’d be wearing a “Bonus Wife” crown and sash, maybe even holding a bouquet of flowers.  Any woman who bears extra hot dogs and sausages is automatically enrolled in the “Wife of the Year” club.  Clearly everyone knows this…except, apparently Jason?

I pulled into the garage from running to the grocery store.  Our dear friends were coming over to celebrate birthdays and Jason had decided we’d have burgers and brats...they’d bring a big salad.  I'd make yummy cupcakes.

By JC Harrington on July 4, 2012 at Full 500 × 333 pixels

Since starting Dave Ramsey’s “Financial Peace University” I am almost exclusively our grocery getter.  I’m the one with the cash for food purchases, where Jason’s cash is allocated for lunches during the work week.  Emily had gone with me to the store, and as we assessed who would be having dinner, I asked Em if she wanted burgers or brats for dinner.  She said, "Can the kids have hot dogs, instead?  I said, "Sure, no problem."  She shouted an emphatic “NICE,” gave me the “gag me with a spoon” face she always gives me when the word “brats” is mentioned, and then said, “ As long as the hot dogs were all natural without additives, nitrates, or nitrites.”  You know, no lips and asses.  We laughed and gave each other that, “I don’t even WANT to know what is in those other hot dogs!” look.  

Anyway, back to the story…

So, it was a Sunday afternoon.  Ryan was down for his nap while Em and I were at the store and Jason was hanging out, watching a little football.  He came out to the garage to help carry in bags once he heard the door open.  As he grabbed for several bags in the trunk he quietly said, “Why did you buy hot dogs?  Why do you always second guess me?”

I was all, “Whoa…are you okay?  Why are you being passive aggressive?”

Jason, “I’m not being passive aggressive!  I decided we were having burgers and brats and you second guessed my plan and bought hot dogs.”

I said, thinking to myself what on earth is going on with Jason, “Emily asked if she could have hot dogs.  We only had a pound of ground beef and 3 brats, so with 4 adults and three kids, 3 of which don’t eat brats, I decided to get some hot dogs, and a little extra ground beef, too, just in case.  But what’s really going on, why on earth are you so upset about hot dogs?”

Jason, “I’m not upset.  I just don’t like how you always second guess me.”

Me, “Sweetheart, I am really, really sorry.  I’m really sad that you feel I second guess you!  I totally trust you.  As the one who usually does the hosting, I just wanted to make sure we had enough food.  Have you felt like this a long time?  I’m really sorry.  I had no idea you felt so strongly about this or that you've been feeling this way for so long...you did use the word, "always."  If this is how you’ve felt all along why haven’t you told me?”

Jason, “No.  Nothing’s bothering me…it’s fine…it’s not what I meant, it came out wrong.”

I froze, really sad in my heart, like grieved-ish, that I did something to cause my non-reactive husband to be so distraught over bratwurst.  I started to throw up my walls.  Jason was dressed in his mountain biking gear, so I told him to leave and think about what was going on and we could talk about it when he got home, but we both needed space…over an 8-pack of nitrate-free hotdogs…and a little extra ground beef.

After about an hour and a half Jason came home from his bike ride.

He said, “I’m sorry I overreacted about the brats.  When you got home you opened the garage door and Lady started barking, Ryan wasn’t going down for his nap, and the Redskins had just lost.”

OH.  MY.  FRIGGING.  WORD.

Me, “Are you kidding me?!  This was all because the Redskins suck?  Sweetheart, the Redskins haven’t been good ever since you liked them in the ‘80’s.  I’m just glad it wasn’t something more serious!  You are lucky I love you and realize you had a moment of sheer stupidity to treat me like that because of the lack of athletic performance from a football team.”

"Stupid" Stuff Skins Fans Say or Do

Oh yeah…AND, guess what EVERYONE but Emily wanted for dinner? 

Burgers.  

It's a good thing the grass-fed ground beef was on sale, thankyouverymuch, Dave Ramsey!

Your Peacock...Your Peacock!

Let me see your peacock!

I couldn't resist.

Unfortunately I've heard the song.  I have another post for another day regarding my affection for Katy Perry, but not today.

Let's just say, since I don't really know what I'm doing before I go into a project like this, unfortunately I'm not able to write a DIY type of blog post.  That would be cool, but to be honest, I really DKHTDIM (Don't Know How To Do It Myself) except for winging it...All I know is, recently in a few books and when I heard a person speak, the questions were posed:

• What makes you feel alive?  
• What memory from your childhood do you have of yourself being really happy while doing something you enjoyed?  
• What do you LOVE to do?

At first I wasn't in a place where I even knew or remembered how to answer the questions.  I LOVE to be with my family.  I LOVE to be with my friends.  I LOVE to be alone.

Oxygen makes me feel alive...

All great answers, but not exclusively "me"...but when I'm in my basement, tearing things apart and re-creating, well, that's when I see glimpses of what makes me feel alive...

Creating.  Art.  Designing.  Making it up as I go.  

And doing it on a dime.  It's fun for me!

I'm not bragging.  I'm just so excited I've found something I love to do, something that gives me inspiration and energy to face the laundry and piles of dishes.

Here's how it's going so far.

First we cut strips of tan ultra-suede we had left over from Em's Sacajawea costume,  celery green ovals from some upholstery, kelly green ovals from a Baja Expedition t-shirt, and royal blue spots from an oversized man shirt Jason got from a work softball game.  We added tassels from upholstery cording my mom had given me years ago that was sitting in a box that. whole. time.

These are for the feathers that will make up a bustle type thingamajigger on Em's tushy.

Em had a navy blue t-shirt she wasn't wearing so we used it as the base for the bodice.  I sewed royal blue feathers for the chest out of more of the oversized man t-shirt.

Remember "Caboodles?"  Yep.  That's my Caboodle from Junior High which once housed my electric blue mascara, now posing as my sewing box.  And that lavender tulle is going to be a bolero.  I had to have my mom come over and tell me how to work with elastic.  There are some things I can totally wing.  But elastic stumps me every time...I don't know why, but my brain freezes and I'm not sure how to use it...it's weird.  Maybe I got flicked by too many flying rubber bands in elementary school???

And this is my favorite part because it's entirely Emily's design and creation.  We got the peacock feather with a few others attached in the floral dept of Wally World, but she did all the rest, complete with gold embossed feathers and all the bling.  The kid's got an eye for this stuff!

As the "feathers" for the actual skirt were starting to come together, Em said, "Mom, this is actually going to be cool!  I had no idea you had something like this in mind..."

Thanks, kid.  Apparently she hasn't been that impressed with my other impromptu costumes.  Smack.

And since the creative juices are flowing in the basement, Em's gotten out her sketch book and started designing gowns and other fancy numbers.  It's fun to see her put her dreams on paper...one day she and I will put her paper dreams into material.

INTENTIONAL PUPIL

God’s been having me write out some scriptures for myself to study and really chew on, if you will.  

For me, writing it down, or typing it, helps get it into my heart more and more.  

He’s really put it on my heart to be an intentional pupil of His Word, like basically back in college, getting a Major in God Studies :)  

(That's the last page of the Bible...and across the page are Noah's footprints from his last night on earth...)

Some of them are being spurred on from a Daniel study I’m doing by Beth Moore.  But He has put it on my heart to encourage others, as well, and for my own accountability.  Please don’t think I’m trying to re-write scripture.  I’m just stringing it together for the overall message, into one challenge to myself, for a complete thought.  I hope it encourages your hearts, too, on your own journeys.  

Love, Ade xoxox

It’s from The Message, Hebrews 12, John 11, 1 Peter 1 & 2.


“Do you see what this means – all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on?  It means we’d better get on with it.  Strip down, start running – and never quit!  No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins.  Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in.  Study how he did it.  Because he never lost sight of where he was headed – that exhilarating finish in and with God...when you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through.  That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!  God is educating you; that is why you must never drop out.  This trouble you’re in isn’t punishment; it training...it pays off handsomely, for it’s the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with God.  Clear the path for long-distance runners so no one will trip and fall...Help each other out.  And run for it!  When Jesus got the message, He said, “This sickness is not fatal.  It will become an occasion to show God’s glory by glorifying God’s Son.”  So roll up your sleeves, put your mind in gear, be totally ready to receive the gift that’s coming when Jesus arrives.  Don’t lazily slip back into those old grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing.  You didn’t know any better then; you do now...let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God’s life, a life energetic and blazing with holiness.  You call out to God for help and he helps – he’s a good Father that way.  But don’t forget, he’s also a responsible Father, and won’t let you get by with sloppy living.  Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God.  Even though it has only lately – at the end of the ages – become public knowledge, God always knew he was going to do this for you...drink deep of God’s pure kindness.  Then you’ll grow up mature and whole in God.  Present yourselves as building stones for the construction of a sanctuary vibrant with life, offering Christ-approved lives up to God.  To you who trust him, he’s a Stone to be proud of...for the untrusting, they trip and fall because they refuse to obey, just as predicted.  But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high-calling...God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you – from nothing to something..Friends, this world is not your home, so don’t make yourselves cozy in it.  Don’t indulge your ego at the expense of your soul.  Live an exemplary life among the natives...then they’ll be won over to God’s side and be there to join in the celebration when he arrives...good citizens...It is God’s will that by doing good, you might cure the ignorance of the fools who think you’re a danger to society...cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in.  I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime.  Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine.  When Jesus wraps this all up, it’s your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory.  The Day is coming when you'll have it all – life healed and whole.”

A Brief History of Em's Halloween Costumes

Hindsight is 20/20.

2005, Em's 3rd birthday party with recycled skirts made from daddy's pant legs.  Flower hats made from recycled upholstery materials.

Apparently I've always been a recycle-er.  I was "green" before "green" was even cool.

With jewelry I love to take old pieces apart and repurpose them into something fun and modern, which is what I mainly do with bebe and boo.  As far as sewing projects, I've always been a fan of cutting something up that I haven't worn in a while and making something new.  When Em was a baby I took a pair of Jason's old khaki pants and cut the legs off.  (I think he wanted shorts to mow the lawn in...???)  Anyway, with one of the legs I ripped out the seams, added some lime green and raspberry material strips, a zipper, and random flower petals and made myself a skirt.  With the other pant leg I put a strip of elastic in the hem, added decorative buttons, ribbon, and a fabric flower and made Em a skirt.  I'm not a fan of patterns, but throwing stuff together is just fun for me.  It makes my mom crazy.

I'll be the first to admit that my randomness doesn't always pan out.  I've thrown a lot of attempts in the trash.  Others are a pleasant surprise, like my Grandma's old bed sheets I actually have on right now as pajama pants, or a $.25 pillow case and antique handkerchief I made into a skirt for myself.  For me, part of it is using something outside the box, part of it is the thrill of knowing it cost little to nothing to make.  The other part is knowing it's a one of a kind creation.  It's just fun!

So, today Em and I headed to the basement to see what kind of random stuff we had on hand to make a peacock costume for her for Halloween.  Thankfully she hasn't listened to the Katy Perry album so for Em, being a peacock will simply be dressing up for fun as one of the most beautiful creatures on earth.

Jason and I are doing Financial Peace University, so I'm really, REALLY trying to make this costume on a dime.  We found some old t-shirts, old designer fabrics and tassels, and some old drapes (can you say "Sound of Music?").  Em got out a sketch book and we googled peacock feathers and color palettes.  So far I've made ONE feather.  ONE.  It took 15 minutes.  This is actually good for me as I usually wait until the eve of Halloween to even START sewing a costume, so this year I'm ahead of myself I guess, but we've got our work cut out for us...

Here's what we've found so far:

The treasures we found in the basement

Cutting stuff apart for a little trial and error 

Recycled T's

Em's sketch book 

Em's sketch of what her shirt will look like

The first practice feather...it's going to be a heavy skirt!

Who said microsuede (actually from her Sacajawea costume, 2008), upholstery, and t-shirts don't go together?!

Cutting pieces for mass feather production

Sacajawea, 2008

Egyptian Princess, 2009

Betsy Ross, 2010

Em actually didn't wear the Betsy Ross costume for Halloween, but for Early American History Week at school.  I'm not going to lie.  I was a little disappointed.  Halloween 2010, Em had it in her head that she wanted to buy a costume, a pirate costume, at that.  After we bought it, and she wore it, she asked me if I would please make her costumes from then on.  I was excited!  My mom always made our costumes, and even if it made her crazy, I think she had fun creating them, just like I do, too.

So, we'll see how the peacock turns out.  The sad thing is, I won't even be with Em on Halloween to see her in her peacock glory!  She'll be in SD with her daddy!  Ry and I are just going to stick a bowl of candy on the front porch and go to bed early :)  My costume:  sleeping housewife.

Walking, Part 2

My mom's not a huge fan of crowds but she wanted to do this walk.  She didn't want to stay for the closing ceremonies or anything like that.  She said walking together was her celebration, so that's just what we did.

Three generations, riding the Light Rail at the wee hours...HOW AWESOME DOES MY MOM LOOK?!?!

Sisters

"Bebe's Girls" (team name...)

This year we'll stay right...

Emily doing a cartwheel on Speer Boulevard over I-25

Granddaughters and their Bebe

A sea of thousands of people affected by cancer in one way or another...aka, thousands upon thousands of STORIES!

One Year Survivor at the Mile 1 Marker

A dude dressed as Pink Panther...he even had a British accent (not that PP ever talks, but whatever...)

A pom squad cheering us on...

"Give me a B!  Give me an O!  Give me another O!  Give me another B!"

Thank you to the Denver Police Department for blocking off traffic throughout the city in order for us to walk together!

Here, Em and I stopped.  I said, "Do you see all those people walking?  Look ahead of you, behind us, all around.  Do you know why they are all walking?  They are walking because their lives have been affected by breast cancer.  Every single person here has been affected by it, whether in their own body, as a friend, spouse, parent, child, sister, cousin, aunt, co-worker, grandparent...every. single. person. and they all have a story."

"I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back." The Message, Philippians 3:12-14

Front Row: Young Bevy Girls in the making...knowing the importance of time with other women and showing support!  Nice job, girls!

My mom is a strong, loving, and selfless woman.  I have a lot to learn from her.  I'm really proud of her and so grateful we were able to walk WITH her today!

Walking with my Mama!

Today Emily and I are walking the streets of Denver in the Race for a Cure.

We will walk with my mom, Bebe, a one year breast cancer survivor.

We'll also walk with my little sister Dana, and her step-daughter, Annie, and with thousands of others who walk for whomever it is they walk.

Just wanted to record this memory...

If you've been affected by it, either in your own body, or a friend or family member, we'll walk for you, too.  Feel free to add the person's name to the comment section below.

Thanks!!!

Ade
xoxox

Grieving With Others

You know, I was never a fan of funerals and potato salad or dying people or dead ones or death or pretty much anything that had to do with end of life.  As a kid, from grade 3 and then throughout junior high and high school, a friend, classmate, relative, or pet, died, each year.  Super fun, YEAH!

When I was really little, like preschool age, the guy across the street backed over his son.  My mom was gardening and heard him yelling at his big brother (only 4 at the time) that he was supposed to be watching his little brother.  Messed up...

After my friends and I walked home from the bus stop one day, about a half hour later I heard emergency sirens and a helicopter.  My friend, John, who Stacey and Marc and I were just walking with, was in that life chopper, hooked up to machines, on his way to his last breath.  I didn't go to the funeral.

The first funeral I even remember was my own Grandpa's.  Enough people had died in my life by then that to actually have to face it and attend a funeral, at age 16, made me nauseous.  I was FREAKED out!  Likely this was due to my own deceitfulness and sneaking I had done in junior high watching "R" Rated horror films while my parents were gone.

What the hell was I thinking?  You name it, my friends and I snuck and saw it.  Children of the Corn, Poltergeist, Nightmare on Elm Street, who knows what else...

Jacked up.  Like, totally, completely, utterly EFFFFFF-ed up!

Wow.  To think Hollywood makes money off glorifying death and dying and the underworld.  It's the unknown that fascinates, but to horrify it?  Dear Lord.

And now I've tasted death.  In fact, not only have I soaked my dead son with my tears, but I've grieved with others who have done the same.

I've kissed death.  It's bitter.  What if Eve had picked fruit from "The Tree of Life" instead of the tree of the "Knowledge and Evil?"  We never would have tasted the salty bitter emptiness that comes to those of us left this side of Heaven.  We never would have experienced separation from God...

EVE!!!!  #$%^&*(

This month my friend, Carly Marie Dudley in Australia, is hosting "Capture Your Grief" for Pregnancy and Infant Loss.  She's created a Facebook page for people to share their stories according to the topic of the day.  I headed over there just to check it out.  You know, since it's been 5+ years since I held Noah, I was just going over to the site to encourage others, probably new moms and losses.  And then I started reading, and just saying, "I'm so sorry for your loss!" and looking at the beautiful lives affected by death and temporary separation, yet heartache, nonetheless.

And then I posted a picture.  Because it was a call for "Pre-Loss" pictures.  And that was easy, because I posted this:

 
It's a picture of Noah, in my belly, safe and sound.  And it's utter pregnancy joy on my face, looking at myself for the first time in my life and thinking, "Wow!  I'm beautiful!"  And it's a gift to my heart because I didn't know.  All I knew was I would have a son, and I was already in love with him.

Being over at Carly's Facebook page with all those stories is difficult.  It's not cupcakes and tequila.  It wrecks me to know other families hearts will know the same pain mine has known.  I knew when Noah was sick, and after he died, that we weren't the first and wouldn't be the last.  But there's still a hope and a wish it could have ended with *us*.

When I saw my Grandpa, lying there in his coffin, hands folded, handsome, eyes closed, with a little too much make up, a peace I had not yet known in my life swept over me.  I remember thinking, "Huh.  That's not my Gramps.  That's just his body.  He is with God.  He is at rest."

Today the call on "Capture the Grief" was to post about a treasured item.

If you've read here long, you know I'm not attached to things.  Remember my purge fests?  Anyway, I realized, though, my most treasured item is my Bible.  It's my most treasured item because, well, it's my Bible.  Duh.  But, also because the night before we said goodbye to Noah, his nurses brought me ink sheets so we could stamp his feet.  I searched for a clean page in my (at the time) 20 year old Bible.  The only page I could find was opposite the last page.

Revelation 22:20 and "Footprints"

Revelation 22:20  "He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.'"

AMEN.  COME, LORD JESUS!

I treasure this for the promise that it is, as well...that life here on Earth is literally but a vapor!