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Showing posts from October, 2010

Welcome Home

I grew up in the church that my parents literally turned around in one Sunday back in 1979, fell madly in love and got married. The air conditioning in that church owes their thanks to my parent's union: it was so hot that June and everyone was so miserable that they immediately voted to put in air. My Dad served as an Elder, my mom was a frequent soloist (Sandi Patty anyone?) and I was the church pianist from around age sixteen until I was twenty-eight. I was practically born into church attendance. I was even born on a Sunday. I've always known church.
I have not, however, always known about finding a new church.
A few months after my husband I married, we felt very called to leave where we were currently and set down roots elsewhere. This was not without fear or heartbreak. Leaving anywhere warm and familiar and comfortable is terrifying. It just is. It's also hurtful and confusing and something no one wants to do if they don't have to. Ironically, we "…

And you call my bluff...

We've been doing a study on Philippians in my Small Group and the past few weeks have been eating away at me. And it's not the first time that these things have shoved their way to the front of my mind, waving and screeching, "Look at me! Look at me!" I need to pay attention. I need to be decisive.
With a little boy at home who is daily becoming more and more bright and aware (despite the fact that he will not do it when his Dad is around, he does look for our dog when I ask him where Ruger is) it is even more convicting to put "the first things first". But it's so easy to get distracted. Just this morning I even said to Joel, "Now we need to pray before your breakfast." and what happened? By the time I got him settled in his chair and he started wildly kicking his legs in anticipation for his oatmeal and mangos, I went straight to feeding his little face and forgot my goal of less than five minutes earlier. We did, however, redeem the …

A Call to Kindness

When my baby was brand spankin' new, I read somewhere that, "Motherhood is not a competitive sport." and I thought, "So true.", felt a little relieved and went on my merry way, la-la-la-ing down the lane of newborn euphoria (and sleep deprivation).
Today my son is 6+ months old and while looking up the definition of another word online via Merriam-Webster, I saw the following in a sidebar detailing user-submitted words and this was number one (don't even get me started on the fact that THIS was the first user-submitted word on the list! You think this isn't serious? Think again.)...
"Sanctimommy". The definition is as follows:

"A mother who points out perceived faults in the parenting of others."

I am pretty sure I'm not the first mother (new or otherwise) to be confronted, bombarded and overwhelmed by a mother (or two) who apparently have it all figured out. They may be still in the hospital recovering, with their snoozy newborn …