Wonder

I am a doula.  So, logic says I should spend 5 minutes writing on the wonder of birth.
However, this a.m. I met with my husband's birth mom.  No, he is not adopted.  His birth mom decided she didn't want the role of wife when my husband was 4 and do to mental unstability on her part my husband was given to his dad.
Three, almost 4 years ago she moved to the midwest.  Where I am.  Where my husband is.  Where her grandchildren are.
We don't communicate well.  I stuffed and stuffed and stuffed for 12 years.  And, then, she told me she wanted to know why I kept her at arms length.  I asked if she was sure and she said yes.  So, I let her have it.
Now, 16-months later, I find it easier to speak more harshly to her than I am comfortable with.  She does not see it as yelling or even being overly harsh.
So, a few weeks ago we met with my Pastor.  We have met with him twice now.  At the end of our last meeting she asked if we could meet to, "make a plan."  So, this a.m. we met.  At Perkins for one hour.
I am still wondering what she wants from me us. 
She wants more of our time.  But what does that look like?  She wants nothing to do with anything religious we have going on.  Well, that eliminates a lot.  She wants to go to the boys things if it is appropriate.  Well, if she was taking them, yes, but since her mental health isn't stable it is not okay for her to go unaccompanied anywhere with her grand-kids.  So, no, there aren't many things she can go with them to without it being a little awkward.

Stay

Stay awake...
That is what I am doing right now.  I am not normally up at 6 a.m., but, I teach a cooking class at 10 a.m. on Friday mornings and today we are talking potatoes.  I want the kids to see that sweet potatoes do not have to be covered in butter, marshmallows, and brown sugar.  After all, they are SWEET potatoes.  So, I got up about an hour ago to put sweet potatoes in the crockpot with a little bit of water. 
According to the recipe, they cook on high for one hour and then low for 6-8.  Yes, I realize that means they won't be done, most likely, by the time I leave for class.  But, hopefully, done enough that the kids can at least taste them and/or I can put them in the microwave for a few minutes to finish them up.  I had several kids last week tell me they don't like sweet potatoes and have no plans of trying them.  We will see if that holds true.
We are, also, making cranberry salad.  So, there are cranberries diced up in my refrigerator in a cup of sugar.  Although, a cranberry salad was the kids idea, it will be interesting to see if they try it and like it.
As for my own children, they each tried a plain cranberry and my youngest had multiple.  (Can you see my sour face?)  I puckered on his behalf, but he enjoyed each one.

Stretch

Stretch take two...
So, as I pulled up today's post, I thought, "Hum!  I've responded to that word before."  In fact, it was the very first 5 Minute Friday I ever did a few seemingly very short months ago.
However, as I looked back on my first post on stretch, I was surprised that it was as recent as August!  Our Pastor has only been gone a VERY few months.  I was telling someone the other day I he had stepped down in June, oops.
Our church is working on moving on.
The pulpit committee is starting to look for a new Pastor.  It will be interesting as we head into a new year to see how their search plays out.
The Youth Pastor, who has taken over the role of Interim Pastor is the head of the pulpit committee's son.  His parents and grandparents are/were members of our church.  So, will he step in and become the new Pastor?  If he does, there is going to be both happy and sad people.
The happy people are the people who think it is his because of his family history.
The sad people are the people who think our Pastor stepping down should have been handled differently and are disappointed at the way he was pushed out to make room for the Youth Pastor to step in.
Either way, a new Pastor coming in or the Youth Pastor stepping up, it will be a stretch for our church of right around a 100 people, mostly senior saints and a few young families and singles.
It will be a stretch for me, as I am one of the ones in the sad group and really like our Youth Pastor as a youth pastor.

Quiet

Quiet is not something that often occurs in my world with Little Men.
However, as I tuck them in at night, I want to rush through their bedtime routines because once they are tucked in, I get to have my quiet time.  I go to my room, play on the computer for a bit to make sure they aren't going to come looking for me, and, then, I kneel by my side of the bed to pray before crawl into bed with a handful of chocolates to read my BSF notes for the week or to work on my lesson for the day.
I had a less than Christian moment with my husband's birth mom last week.  So, last nights quiet time was a little on the emotional side.  So many things that I read talk about how a Christian should interact with another Christian.  It seems few things speak to how a Christian should interact with a non-Christian.
I am to be loving toward her, I think, but often that looks like not talking because if I tell her my thoughts and then that is causing conflict and not being accepting of her choices.
However, in my silence, I stuff.  I stuff the frustration of her words and actions.  How she doesn't try to see things from my perspective.  How she is VERY materialistic and doesn't have the finances to be materialistic.
So, then, at some point, all that stuffing explodes out of me.  This time, it didn't come out nasty at her, but it didn't come out right either.  She told my mom that she believes I hate her and my whole family knows it.

Roots

The first thought: roots, as in family ties.  The second is: roots, as in a head of hair in need of a new do.  But, honestly, today, roots is the ties of those sisters that God didn't give you by blood but through the course of life.
I have roots in Oregon.  I went to visit my bestie.  Who moved to Oregon with her husband and girls a little over a year ago.  It was so nice to have the someone I love to laugh with even at things that are not really appropriate to laugh about.
She gets me.  We both grew-up Catholic.  We both had moms who had in-home day-cares.  We both are the oldest and have only brothers.  We both love children and have loved working with them are whole careers.  She lost her dad when she was in college.  I lost my uncle before I was born.  Both were hit when riding a bike (one a bicycle the other a motorcycle).  All four of our parents went to Northeast High School.  Our dads did not fit into the good guy crowd.  Her mom and my dad grew-up blocks apart.
Roots are friends in my hometown.  Roots are the friend I dropped a birthday gift off to today.  The one who would go for long walks with me and we would discuss fertility issues, being new moms, and many other things.
Roots are Deana, Sarah, Marcy, Tess, Mary, Angie, and Jessi.  All women that when needed are there to listen, scold, hug, and support.
These are my sisters in Christ.  They are each loved deeply.  God might not have given me sisters biologically, but He more than made up for it in the amazing sisters I have met since I started walking with him almost 13 years ago.

Voice

Sometimes, my voice is loud.  Sometimes, it is quiet.  Sometimes it is uncertain.  It amazes me how the tone of a voice can change the context of what is being said.

Once Upon A Time...
I attended a Bible study with a good friend.  She is an outspoken, doesn't like silence kinds of woman.
I'm the quiet, contemplative, wait for it and I'll give you my thoughts one.
So, after several years of attending Bible studies together she asks me, in frustration, why I never say anything.  My response, "because I can handle silence and you can't.  So, I know if I wait two seconds I won't have to answer."  ;-)
We haven't been in Bible study together in a few years, but it seems that she is becoming quieter and more contemplative and I am becoming more outspoken.  I would love to participate in a Bible study with her just to see if we really have changed or if the rules of our young married lives still hold.

I love when children aren't listening and you can play with your voice to get them to listen.
I have been known to whisper math assignments to my 5th graders, give drill sergent orders to my sons, yell on occasion when someone is getting in harms way (ie not being safe in a parking lot).
Our voices are amazing things.  With a little inflection a comment can become a question or an exclamation.
I took sign language in college.  Our instructors were deaf.  It was interesting at the end of the term when they shared their voices with us. 


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Look

"Look at me."  I have never been one to be the center of attention.
At my bridal showers, I was thankful because my niece was almost one and did not mind being the center of attention.
But, now, as a mama of three boys, who always seem to have something going on that makes them the focus of every moment.  Makes me want to SHOUT, "Look at me!  I'm right here.  I am a person."
I feel like I fill roles without ever being noticed or appreciated or even thanked.
I try to spend 5 minutes writing this.  And, as I type, a little boy is messing with the timer and after being told to leave it alone, walks around me to the mouse and starts messing with it.  I tell him to stop more than once before I swat his little hand.
Two other boys are down that hall having some time in their room because they have taken up beating on each other and no matter how much/often I say, "STOP!" or "Don't."  They keep "accidentally" punching or running into each other.
I wish their ears would hear me.  I wish they would look and see how much their attitude affects me.
I want to be noticed.
But, as I type this, I think of my Heavenly Father who wants the same from me.
How often does He say, "STOP! and notice Me"?

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Race

What a funny word.  My first thought, I have ran in races.  I have completed the Lincoln 1/2 Marathon 3 years in a row.  I have done fun runs this year, too.  The fun runs are A LOT of fun.
However, run, also, makes me think of the little balls of energy that are forever in motion around here.  And, recently how I have felt stretched to thin as I try to keep up with them and do somethings apart from them.  I race all day long from the time my feet hit the floor till I crawl into bed and pass-out from exhaustion.
I have been working on figuring out again, for like the millionth time in my life, how to say, "No."  And, then, I walk into church to hear a sermon on needing to say, "Yes."  I can't be stretched thinner.  But, we are to help our fellow Christians.  How do you do the things preached about from the Bible and not stretch yourself to thin?
Being a stay-at-home, home schooling, mama of 3 seems like a full-time, and I don't mean just 40 hours a week, job.  However, if I, then, want to spend time on my hobby/passion teaching pregnant couples unmedicated childbirth, and occasionally working as a doula.  Plus, take on helping in the church nursery because they need help and helping with Sunshine Bunch because they need help and having fellowship and getting to know the other ladies at our church.  Plus, BSF, Cub Scouts, and AWANA.  Plus, ministering to my unbelieving family in the hopes they will see Christ in me and want to get to know him too...
Where do I say, "no"?
How do I say, "no"?

Welcome

Welcome home.  Welcome in.  Welcome, Dear God, what am I going to write?
Welcome home is not a common phrase in my life.  I have never moved away from home.  I have lived 34 years in the town where I was born.  I can take a less than an hour drive and drive past every residence I have ever lived in.
My parents' bought their current home two weeks before their first child, me, arrived.
I know I am always welcomed there.  Same with my grandparents' home, even though it has changed addresses and my grandpa is no longer in his rocking chair, I am always welcome there.
This week I celebrated my 34th birthday.  My grandpa, if he were still alive, would have celebrated his 82nd birthday.  Today, my youngest celebrates his 4th birthday.
Not feeling welcomed is probably a stronger word to write about.  I never felt welcomed in the church where I was raised.  It wasn't till I was 21 and first met Jesus that I finally was "welcomed" at church.  I felt like I belonged, FINALLY!  After all those years of going to church and trying to be "good enough."
As part of the family of Christ, I am amazed where I feel welcomed.  I am amazed at how small the Christian community in my home town is.  In this city of 200,000+ it seems like if you meet someone and they are a Christian, they know pretty much everyone you know who is a Christan.  It keeps facebook interesting, seeing who is related to whom.
I started BSF again this fall, like the last 6 falls before it.  My discussion leader has the same name as a girl I went to high school with.  So, I ask girl from high school, via facebook, how they are related..."She's my aunt."
This town sure is small sometimes.  But, God's love and welcome is spread far and wide.


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Grasp

When my Little Men were very young, I learned that they weren't mine.
It was an interesting process.  God didn't bless us with children in the easy way others are blessed with them.  We had to work for ours.  I had surgery, shots, charting, and frustration.  There were tears, angry words, and hurts.
THEN, we found out we were expecting!  There were more shots, lots of ultra-sounds.
I became a Christian at the age of 21.  I was not secretive about our fertility issues.  I would tell anyone willing to listen and even some who weren't willing.  However, I learned that often these people would offer to pray for me, for my family.
So, when our first Little Man came along, I realized I had no hold on him.  He is mine.  God gave him to my husband and me.  But, he belongs to God.  He belongs to all those wonderful people who prayed for him to exsist.
Then, our middlest came along.  He was not as hard to get, coming just a short 18 months after his big brother.  Two Little Men in 18 months.  He is not mine.  I did not work for him.  I do not deserve him.  I am so blessed to call him son and mine.
Our youngest came along 21 months later.  Again, he is not mine.  He is a blessing from God for one so undeserving.
I am truly blessed as I grasp these Little Men and enjoy them every day for as long as God allows.

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Wide

I wish my bed was wider.  As I sit here watching my husband and three sons fight over the covers.  The giggles, squeeles, tugging, and tucking as they all try to get a piece of the blankets. 
My youngest is not on the bed, but with his little feet planted firmly on the floor, he tries to pull all the covers off the bed.  He, then, drops them and starts peeking under them, looking for toes to tickle, I imagine.  My husbands foot pops out and my youngest lets out a laugh.
My middlest, has the covers over his head and almost looks like just a pile of blankets, minus the giggles and comments coming from the pile.
My husband is participating in one of his favorite a.m. activities.  His HAM radio is cracking and popping as men check-in for the morning.  He comments about Dave as he signs on for the day.  My children know Dave, we have picked apples in his backyard. 
My youngest has reset my timer.  As I tell him to, "STOP," I figure my time is about up and I should, STOP.

Focus

Focus...This makes me smile. 
I go to open up the prompt in my e-mail box knowing, "it will just take 5 minutes."  But, behind me, I hear a 7-year-old calling for the dog laying at my feet.  Not our little cocker spaniel, but my parents' labra doodle.
My 5-year-old is asking for more popcorn and can't find his bowl which was lost to the underside of the couch and can't be retrieved for all the other items that disappear under there.
My 3-year-old is quiet at the moment.  Wonder what that means...
So, I get popcorn and a new cup for my 5-year-old.  And grab the timer set for 5 minutes 10 seconds and head back to my bedroom to spend, "just 5 minutes," typing on focus.  :-)
I really look forward to these 5-minutes.  I am glad I caught it sooner this week then last.  Last week, it was Saturday night before I remembered.  Today it is Friday 6:30pm.
My youngest is crying as my 5-year-old says, "I'm heading to tell on you," then walks in the room in tears.  Lead by my 7-year-old tattling on his 5-year-old brother and bouncing on my bed.
Focus.  I enjoy focusing on them.  When I am done with my 5-minutes, my 7-year-old needs to do some school.  My 5-year-old needs a snuggle.  And my 3-year-old needs help picking up whatever his older brothers found necessary to tattle on him for.  So, I'm off to once again focus on those bouncy bundles of energy.
I'm blessed.

Graceful

Graceful?  Who?  Not me.
I am tall and awkward.
Now that I have grown, I am more graceful than my youth would have suggested I would be.
I have more confidence now.  Then I ever thought I would see in me.
Sometimes, I wish I could go back and have the confidence of my 30s back in my teenage days.  However, when I really think about it, I realize that God protected me.
The confidence of my youth, if there had been such a thing, would have lead to poor choices.  There was little guidance in my teenage years.  Some fear, but not an adult that would guide and watch over to keep me from making stupid mistakes.
So, God provided.  He provided awkwardness.  He provided a poor sense of style.  He provided enough fear not to wear anything to revealing.  He provided a lack of interest in boys and boys having very little interest in me.  He allowed me to come with few scars through the trauma of adolescence.  So, as a 21 year-old I could fall into His arms.  And find security, style, faith, confidence, and a boy who was interested in me.  THEN, He provided three Little Men who don't care if I'm graceful or in-style and who call me Mommy.







 

Change

It is that time of year when everything seems to be changing. 
For one, we are in Kansas this weekend with my in-laws.  We are not doing our normal routine.
For two, next week when we return home, we will be diving into the fall routine.  We home school and started school a week and a half ago.  That was a change too.  For the first time, I have a 1st grader, actual laid out curricula, and major goals and objectives for him for the school year.  I, also, have a kindergartner. 
After we get through most of next week, I will start teaching a co-op class for home schoolers.  I am planning to teach cooking to 8 1st-3rd graders.  My boys will, for the first time, take classes.  My oldest is going to take a chess class.  My middlest is going to take an art and tumbling class.  And, my youngest is taking a story time class.
The following week, we dive back into BSF.
And, then, the following week AWANA starts.
Some time in there, I need to confirm that I will be starting or not starting a child birth series.  Currently, I only have one couple signed up for the class.   I wish more people realized the importance of taking a non-hospital affiliated child birth class.  And, I look forward to when my life will be less busy that I will be able to advertise.  However, currently, my life is wonderful.  God plans my classes or lack there of and for the most part, I'm okay with that.

Join

To join or not to join, that is the question...
I became a Christian 12 years ago.  January 17, 2000 to be exact.  So thankful the world didn't end with the millenium.
I became a member of the church I attended about a year after being saved.  My husband and I were planning our wedding.
Then, in 2007 we switched churches.  Pretty much immediately, I sought out info for becoming members.
January 1st of this year we switched churches.  I haven't really sought out info for membership.  THEN...
Our pastor stepped down a few weeks ago.  His wife contributed a lot to children's ministry.  I sort of think I should become a member to help fill the missing space.  HOWEVER, the circumstances from which our pastor stepped down leave me VERY opprehensive about becoming a member.
Part of me, actually, would like to switch churches again because of the circumstances.  But, I'm pretty sure my husband would not be thrilled with that idea and my boys, my middle child is just starting to warm-up to the new church.  I can't imagine making him try out a new church again.  So, we stay...
Waiting...
Do we join and fill the missing space?
Do we not join and just see what happens?
Do we switch churches?


 

Stretch

My 5 foot 8 inch frame does not like to be stretched physically.  I started running 3 years ago and know that runners often stretch before and/or after running, but I didn't.  Then, earlier this year I saw a physical therapist for a shoulder issue.  She gave me stretches.  Then, I switched chiropractors, and he gave me stretches.  So, I'm stretching...  I'm not good at it.  I can't touch my toes.  But, I keep stretching.  Every other day.  Little by little the floor gets closer to my finger tips.
I stretch in other way fine, I think.  Our family stretched at the beginning of the year by trying out a new church.  Our new church is close to our home.  It is nice to be able to walk to church for week day activities.  Our oldest has taken to riding his bike to church.  Which, I love that he desires to be physically active and that he enjoys going to our Lord's house.
I thought I was handling this stretch just fine, until two weeks ago when there was a bump in the road.  Our Pastor stepped down.  It isn't really...
Stretch