Swearing, Cussing, Vulgarity, Oh My!

A late night conversation with the Davester about what different words mean went something like this:

Davester, "Okay, I don't get it. What is up with the word bastard? Why is it bad? When I hear bastard, I think custard! And custard just makes me want to eat cake!"

His Hands

I read this scripture to the kiddos this morning before they left for school:

"The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot." Psalm 16:5

In an attempt to explain the second part, I said that this meant that God holds their day in His hands. Nothing would happen today that surprised Him. He knows exactly where they are at all times. And if they trusted in Jesus, some day, they would go to heaven forever! He holds our days and our future!

When the kids were outside waiting for the bus, Bethany looked up at the sky and said, "I don't see God's hands." And then she laughed. I think she was attempting humor. What I'm most excited about is the fact that she remembered what I was trying to explain and was thinking about the fact that her day is indeed in God's hands.

Thankful

I met an old friend in the grocery store yesterday. It had been three years since we have talked. She thought I moved to Florida. Nope. Still here. She wondered if we ever found out about our daughter, did she have autism? Yes, she has autism. And what else is new? My dad got cancer and he's gone. It's been two years already. She is a nurse and works with acute leukemia patients. She was astonished that we had seven months. She said those patients can have as little as two weeks. We're going to get together in the fall for lunch, when all of my children will be in school all day.

As I look back at that conversation, I'm astonished, really. Wow. When did all of that happen? When did our lives change with special needs and a diagnosis that would bring my dad home? Two years later, it's still surreal. I hear his voice and I can feel his hugs. Life just keeps rolling along.

And I find myself so thankful that we had the seven months, that babygirl is progressing so well in her disability and through it all, I have a God who promises to never leave. And the bonus, is a husband who is committed 110% to be what God wants him to be, and constantly gives me the love and encouragement that I need. I see him now reaching out to his own family and my heart is full.

Through the good times and bad, his love is constant, and so is my Abba Father's. So thankful.

Moments

Life is filled with different types of moments. Moments of seemingly small significance. Recognizing that David's bubble maker that he is creating with his dad's drill is amazing, explaining to Bethany why she can't be a morning kindergartner like her friend, hearing Faith say that she loves me and that I'm her special gift, and waking up Caleb and talking about what he was like when he was little. A phone call with the Elder, and hearing his heartbeat for the body at FCC. Checking emails, browsing on facebook while drinking my morning coffee, crying at the video from Selah and being reminded how much my Jesus loves me. The breakfast dishes are once again calling my name, I need to change sheets, vacuum the floors, make a meatloaf and somewhere in my day, read my Bible and exercise and tackle that organizing project that I started 3 weeks ago. The one I couldn't finish when difficult moments arrived and derailed me from the seemingly mundane chores on Oakgreen Circle.

Then there are those "other" moments. The ones that your life stops and your world is defined by something different. The moment that you hear a diagnosis. The moment at the cemetery when the fifty verses of Amazing Grace is finally finished and you wonder to yourself...now what? There are beautiful moments as well, getting engaged, walking down the isle of my dad's arm, feeling my baby kick for the first time and then the joy of meeting that little one face to face.

And I think to myself...(can you hear the song.."What a Wonderful World")....what do all these moments add up to? I am constantly struggling to make ordinary moments count, to be faithful even in the tough moments of parenting, to not let self-pity or despair overtake me. Discouragement seeps into those ordinary moments with a whisper of discontent and if I don't pay attention to it, it gives way to something bigger and uglier and a posture that is not honoring to my King.

I'm left with the choice to believe that all of the ordinary moments of all of our days add up to something bigger. I often think that it's in the ordinary moments that great things happen. I wonder how many things I miss because I'm not paying attention or I'm too tired to see? I'm also convinced that the God who created this world, loves me enough to care about every little moment of every waking hour. That fact alone keeps me going and gives me what I need for the next several moments.

Now..about those breakfast dishes.

Abba Father...thank you.

This morning was a tough one at the Zimm's for many reasons. For the most part, though, it was a tired mama trying to deal with two special needs girls. If one wasn't fussing, the other one was. It can be so constant. I found myself on the familiar thinking path of, "I can't do this, this is too hard." When those thoughts start coming down the track of my thinking patterns, I know that I have more work to do. I need to replace those thoughts with, "God, help me. Thank you for these girls and all the challenges. Help me to find joy in the battle." What usually happens is, I just get out the first three words. Today, it didn't even get that far. I kicked a few things around, sputtered a few words that an elder's wife shouldn't say and entertained the negative thinking tracks. I hadn't even gotten to the help part when God surprised me.

I needed to call Bethany's classroom teacher about something and she surprised me with a positive story about our girl. Yesterday, they went to their first pep fest. The teacher sat at the edge right by the door, with Bethany, unsure of how she would react to the big kids and the noise. Our girl, the one who couldn't even walk on wood floors, stayed. She not only stayed, she cheered when someone made a basket, she stomped her feet along with the rest of the kids as they chanted, and she not only stayed, she laughed and smiled and participated just like everyone else.

This might seem like an insignificant feat, but for our girl with her sensory issues, this was no small miracle. And then the teacher went on to say how pleased she has been with Bethany all year. She has interacted with 27 other kids in a classroom and learned the routine and she's happy every day. She walks into the classroom with a smile on her face. Even on the days that she's left screaming and crying from home.

Why write all this down? To remind myself that even when my first reaction isn't a good one and I don't cry out to God for help, He's still there. He reaches out and gently reminds me of how much he loves me, how much he loves Bethany, and reminds me that He's here. She's making progress. Yes..it's hard and yes, I have to fight the stinking thinking patterns every day. But even in the days that I don't fight well, He's still working and loving all of us. Amazing.

Flippin....

Faith loves Curious George. She keeps checking out the same book and it is getting very old for this mom, "Curious George Makes Pancakes." In order to break the monotony of this story, I inserted the word "flippin" as many times as I could. When I started to laugh hysterically at my own creativity, she burst into tears. I missed reading the last page the way I wanted to. So, here's what I missed:

"At the end of the flippin day, George got to present the flippin money from the fundraiser to the president of the flippin hospital. "Thanks to you, George, this has been our best flippin year ever!" she said. "Will you come back and make flippin pancakes again next year?"

George nodded and everyone flippin cheered.

There...now I have flippin closure.

S.T.U.F.F.

I have diligently instructed my children with a mantra while cleaning their rooms. They know it is the slogan that I try to live by and they can recite it from memory from an early age. Here it is: "Stuff weighs you down." As I have been feeling weighted down as of late with all the piles sitting around my house, an acronym came to mind. I'm going to post it for the children to recite at the dinner table.

S laves
T rapped
U nder
F lippin
F oolishness

It will be posted under the other quote that is hanging by the dinner table: "Impossible is not a word it's just a reason not to try."
(Kutless, "What Faith Can Do")

We will conquer the clutter.

Football analogy....

I woke up this morning repeating over and over, "I won't be crabby. I won't be crabby." My sweet husband asked me what I was doing. I told him I really don't enjoy this time of day, it's chaos, etc. He said, "That's like a football player telling himself, I won't fumble, I won't fumble. Guess what? He fumbles. You have to choose joy."

The older he gets, the more he is like my dad. I can hear my dad saying that. So, what does that look like? Well, the baby step that I took this morning was lifting my eyebrows and smiling. My husband walked into the kitchen to tell me goodbye, took one look at me and said, "What is going on?".

To his surprise, I replied, "I'm smiling. I figured if I smiled, maybe joy would follow." Dad always said to do the actions of obedience first and the emotions will follow.

The January blahs are looming, but I know Jesus wants joy for all of us. So if you see me with a big old smile on my face, you'll know what I'm up to. Don't mess with me...underneath that might be a crabby football player trying not to fumble.

Down for the count...

Our four year old took out the 14 year old today with one swift punch. He is now singing a first soprano.

Dear Future Grown Up Daughter...

Dear Grown Up Faith,
When you were little, you cried, fussed and whined all.the.time. If you didn't have anything to fuss about, you'd find a bump on your neck, a scratch on your thumb, something, anything to lament about. This morning in church, you really didn't like the dress and new tights. You were itching everywhere. And when you weren't itching, you were telling me you were thirsty. On the way to the bathroom, you were greeted by several people who love you. You did not have time for them. You didn't even acknowledge their comments about how pretty you looked today. In the bathroom, you fussed because I insisted on helping you lift up your dress because if it dipped in the toilet, the fussing that would follow would be even more painful than the fussing that happened while I lifted your dress. We had a reprieve as you sat at the tables and colored during family LifeShaping. But, then, while holding your candy cane, it broke. And everyone heard about it. Especially during Pastor Larry's prayer.

You were happy on the way home. This was wonderful. In the old days, like about 2 weeks ago, you would've fussed all the way home about something. When we got home, I made the mistake of mentioning that we were going to pack away the Vick's machine after nap. You are all better, no more cold! And..yes..you fussed about this as well.

My prayer for you dear daughter, that all of this attention that you give to details, will serve you well as an adult. Perhaps you will be a nurse, and be sensitive to people who complain, or maybe you'll be a teacher and that child that nobody else can handle, you will have special insight into. Or, maybe you will be a stay at home mom, and God will bless you with a child like yourself. I'll take her for you for a few hours and with great joy, I will hand her back. But most of all, I hope you know how much Jesus loves you. And that life will never be perfect because as Daddy says, "It's all broken." And if you feel like fussing as an adult I pray that you will take it to the cross. For right now, I'm doing that for you and for myself. That..and will someone hand me some advil, please.

Coffee...

So, I think that making coffee first thing in the morning for myself is just like when you put the oxygen mask on in an airplane. Taking care of coffee first allows me to take care of the ones around me much better. Coffee equals oxygen for coffeegirl.

A real man...

The Davester...

While David was waiting for the bus this morning, he was climbing up a hill, on his knees, and sliding down on his sled and wiping out. After the fourth time, I told him that maybe that wasn't such a good idea as his pants were getting wet. To this motherly concern he replied,

"I suppose I should have snowpants on. But, Mom, I'm a man. And a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Okay then. I'm not getting in the way of his manhood.

What do I want to be known for?

I just finished reading the obituaries. I cried at a letter written from a grown son to his deceased mother. He told her how hard life was without her but he had a new friend who was helping him, Jesus Christ. I read about two people who died suddenly in their 50's. Another woman, 78, died peacefully in her sleep. Others, died peacefully or died courageously in their battle of cancer, alzheimer's, parkinsons. And I can't help wondering, what will my last breath look like? Will I die courageously? Will I die in my sleep? Will I die suddenly at fifty years old? I hope I just die in my sleep.

And then, there's the description. Preceeded in death by...a spouse, a parent, and God-forbid, a child. After that, there are two or three sentences about who they were. Loved to read, avid outdoorsman, special ed. teacher...and I wonder. What will my two sentences be? What will I be known for? What do I want to be known for? What really matters?

She quilted, she scrapbooked, she loved facebook, she loved to organize, she struggled to stay positive with her special needs daughters....so far, here's what I've got.

Preceeded in death by her daughter, Grace, her beloved father. God knows the rest of the story. It's up to me to fill in the blanks with the best I can, living out His calling in the middle of the daily routines. And hoping beyond hope that the littlest mundane activity adds up to kingdom value. That wiping away the tears that come so easily on our daughters cheeks, speaking calmly when I really want to scream, taking a breath to calm myself before I attempt to calm the anxious hearted...all matters.

I know it might seem a little bit odd reading the obituaries in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, but hey, that's where life is lived, where our last breaths will be breathed...in the middle of an ordinary day. And, if we know Jesus...that day, that moment won't be ordinary at all. It will be the beginning of the best homecoming party ever thrown. It's all pretty short in comparison. Now, back to the dailyness of laundry.

Some of the most patient things in life...

1. My husband..he loves me through the good, the bad and the ugly
2. Breakfast dishes (they are patiently sitting on my counter and it's almost 3 p.m.)
3. my ironing pile....it just sits quietly..never fusses
4. Skeeter, David's turle. Love Skeeter. You walk by his tank and he follows you..quietly.
5. Dust...it just keeps collecting friends without a word.

It's really all in how you look at it, really.

Theme song changed just a little....

Feel free to finish this for me......to the tune of Cheers....

Making my bed in the world today takes everything I've got...
Sure would like to stay and hide and think or maybe not...
Wouldn't it be nice to get away????

Sometimes you want to go where nobody knows your name....
And there's room service to claim....

Mama Bear's Claws are tied....

Dear Caleb,

The Bible tells us that in this life we will have many troubles and tribulations. God actually allows our faith to be tested. I believe that you are in one of those testing times right now. I am as well. I'd really like to go up to the teacher who has maligned your character and give her a piece of my mind. I just might get that opportunity, we'll see how tomorrow's meeting goes. Mama Bear's claws are trying to stay calm as I see my cub being attacked.

Here's what I'm trying to remember. Before the beginning of time, you were God's idea. He made you. He formed you. He has your days numbered. And in the same way that you were fashioned in my womb, so was this teacher. She was fashioned in her mother's womb. Her days are numbered. I know that you believe in Jesus. I know that when your last breath comes, I will see you again on the other side of eterntiy. I don't know if I can say that about the her. I am praying that I can look at this situation to speak the truth, but to do it in a way that honors God. I would like to handle this opportunity in a way that hopefully, this woman can walk away and think to herself...they were really upset, but they handled that in a way I've never seen before.

I hope that she sees Jesus in our defense. Just becuase you are a Christ follower, doesn't meant that people can walk all over you. But it does mean, that when you defend yourself, you do it in a way that is loving, truthful, not shaming, and honoring to our King. Because at the end of the day......rather, at the end of time itself, all that matters is what our King thinks of us. We all come to His throne alone. Accountable for our hearts.

My prayer for us is that we honor our King in our anger and defense.

Love eternally...
Mom

I'm back...

So I quit blogging for a long time. I felt like I didn't have anything good to say while I was deep in grief over my dad. There were a few other reasons as well, and I've decided that they don't matter anymore. I'm constantly writing in my head, it's therapy for me. I'm ready to throw some thoughts out there again. If for no other reason, the therapy of clearing my head. God has been working in my heart and mind and I'd like to tie some loose ends together. For Him...so He gets the glory. Not to point at me in any way. His grace is amazing and I'm humbled that He never gave up on me.

One more thing..if any of my peeps read this...would you start praying for me about one thing? I'm going to speak at October's Latte...to kick off the year and make my "retirement" official. I'm excited and nervous. It is a culminating event for me on many levels.

Latte started out of grieving for Grace and ended for me with the death of my dad. In the middle there was autism. It's interesting to me ..the timing of it all. God uses us when we're empty. Maybe that's the perfect time. Maybe when I thought I had it all together, it would've just been about me and that thought makes me want to throw up (going with the theme of Porter's sermon today.)

Anyway...here I am. The pain is not so intense and I'm thankful that God really does take our ashes and makes something beautiful out of them. This was the fiercest battle so far and I long for everyone to taste the everlasting water that Jesus has given me. I've only had a few drops and He has so much more.....

Dear Dad...

I miss you so much. I think the thing that I miss the most is your voice. I can still hear it in my head and I'm so thankful for that. I miss our talks. You always had time for me, and listened, asked questions and had a way of helping me to feel hopeful. I miss hearing your choke up when you'd tell me how much you loved me and then how your voice would change as you prayed for me. You turned into this pillar of faith and light. I always felt better after talking to you. I love you so much.

Thoughts on Joy and Sorrow...Piper again...

The Sorrow and Joy of the Seasoned Soul
Posted: 25 Mar 2009 03:09 AM PDT
(Author: John Piper)

It is not a sign of a seasoned Christian soul that steady joy is untinged with steady sorrow.

Or to put it positively, the seasoned soul in Christ has a steady joy and a steady sorrow.

They protect each other. Joy is protected from being flippant by steady sorrow. Sorrow is protected from being fatal by steady joy.

And they intensify each other. Joy is made deeper by steady sorrow. Sorrow is made sweeter by steady joy.

For the seasoned Christian soul, I do not see how it can be otherwise while people are perishing and we are saved. I do not see how it can be otherwise while these two passages are written by the same inspired man:

I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh. (Romans 9:2-3)

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. (Philippians 4:4)

Davester...

This is the Davester. He is fun, energetic, a fighter, a singer, and a great communicator. This is his story of his experience at church today. It went down something like this:

"So, David, how was church for you today?"
"I had the worst Sunday School experience today of my life!"
"Really? What happened?"

"Well, it all started when they lined us up and had us number off and then put us all at tables according to our numbers. I had to sit at a table with all girls! All my friends got to sit together. It got worse when they told us to come up with a name for our table. The teacher called on a girl sitting by me and she named our team the "Kitty Cats"! My friends? They named their team the "Packers!". I was laughing and kind of sad all at the same time and my eyes welled up with tears! Every time our team got a point I'd say....yessss..the Kitty Cats are fighting back!"

"Then..Mom...you're not going to believe what happens next. We always write down prayer requests on a piece of paper and at the end of class, the teacher hands one to everyone. We're supposed to pray for one another. Guess which one I got! The girl who named our team! Here's what it says:

Please pray for my cat she is getting old. She is 81. Her name is Jenny but I call her Kitty. I love her alot!!! And..that's not all. there's a picture of a cat on top of the page. Now I know why she named our team that!"

"So David...what do you think God is trying to teach you in all of this?"

Fourteen year old brother pipes up, "Be patient with women."