How I Became a Rock Star...for about 30 profound seconds

A few years ago I ran a series of 5ks. During one particular race, after all of us runners had been dispatched to the starting line, the event coordinators gathered the spectators (mostly friends and loved ones of runners) around a bend in the course and instructed them to cheer as we passed through. 

We had no idea (or maybe I was the only one who didn't know) until we turned the corner. Turning that corner felt like the oxygen in the air turned to pure love that sat on my skin, permeated my crevices and intoxicated me. The closest thing to Heaven on Earth that I've experienced.

As I ran through the throng of people clapping and cheering me on, David Crowder sang How He Loves Us in my ear. 

I love Hebrews 12. I love that the writer spent the eleventh chapter reminding his/her readers of all the deeply flawed people who lived out their faith and accomplished God's will despite their sins and struggles. And then he/she says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so easily, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

Every time I read those verses, I think of that race. I think of all the preparation I did. I think of how sweaty I was and how labored my breathing was. And I think about how beneficial it was for me and how glad I am that I did it.

As I run my spiritual race, I find myself holding onto "weights" and "sins". They are heavy and they really do hold me back while I'm running. So I'm in the process of shedding them. And while I am less encumbered in a lot of ways, in some ways I haven't made the progress that I would like.

So whenever I feel discouraged I read Hebrews 12 and I think of Samson, Abraham, Sarah, Rahab, my Grandma Permenter and Jesus himself standing on the sidelines cheering me on as I run my spiritual race. I imagine turning that corner and seeing all of their faces...having been exactly where I am...and hearing them call out my name, raise their hands to high-five me and encourage me to keep on keeping on. My eyes refocus on Jesus and it's like a breath of fresh air, a burst of energy. I correct my running form and pick up the pace.

On the Eve of My Son Becoming a Teenager

Tuesday I will become the mother of a teenager. It seems so strange to say that. I am way more emotional than I thought I would be. I'm not really sad that's he's growing up, I guess it's just that I'm thinking of all the things I want him to know and all the things I wish I had said and done or at least done better.

In some ways it seems like yesterday that Caleb was born. And in others, it seems an eternity away. I feel like a completely different person.

I was 20 when Caleb was born. 20 didn't seem extremely young then, but now, thinking that if Caleb has a child at 20, I could be 7 years away from being a grandparent...20 seems incredibly young. I still feel like a fraud on Mother's Day. I can't imagine becoming a grandparent in the next ten years. But it very seriously could happen.

The next few years are going to be really important. I don't know what they'll bring, but I know my God. 

 From a fleshly standpoint, I want him to have friends and be successful. I want him to go to college and get a good job and marry a nice girl, if he wants to, and have some kids and never have any problems.

But my spirit knows it can't be that simple and wants God to wreck him. Because I would rather him have Jesus than a degree. I would rather him be a disciple of Jesus (in the true sense of that) and lead a life of poverty than be distracted by this world and the things it has to offer. I want peace for him, but I want the peace that passes all understanding. I want God to do whatever it takes to mold my son into the image of His. 

The things that that could mean are scary. And they might be painful to watch. But I know that God is good. I know it. And I will spend a lot of time on my knees.

I have no delusions that he will be sinless. But I am thankful that Michael and I are learning to put away our sins and I pray that we do and our kids will see that and know that when it comes time, we can help them with theirs.

I just love him so much and I just want Jesus for him. I want him to seek God with all of his heart. I pray that in the next few years, God will direct my mothering steps and send people into his life that will lead him there.

The Day I Witnessed Superman Being Clark Kent

I think that super hero stories have their roots in the sometimes magnificent transformation a man can make from home to work.

My brother is super quiet around people he doesn't know. But the first time I witnessed him excel in a sales position in a department store...it was like he had stopped in a phone booth on the way to work and transformed into his super hero self  It was like he was a completely different person. He was confident and FRIENDLY. HE WALKED UP TO COMPLETE STRANGERS AND STARTED A CONVERSATION.  

Maybe they're super heroes at home and turn into their super nerdy alter ego when they are at work. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, it's pretty neat to witness.

Michael is an IT contractor for an international law firm in downtown Dallas. He keeps the lawyers computers and other technology working properly so they can serve their clients thoroughly.

I don't usually get to see him "in action". In fact, I guess I've never really seen him at work before. Which seems weird, but it's true. But with his current position, he takes a week out of the month to be "on call"...which means that lawyers all over the world call him for help with their laptops and smartphones. So he gets calls at all hours. 

I have to be honest, I didn't know where Abu Dhabi was until this weekend when he had to get up in the middle of the night and go to his office to help a lawyer practicing there. 

Anyway, so last Friday night he got a call from an irate lawyer who was locked out of his computer. This man is dropping F bombs and poop euphemisms like they were bread crumbs leading him to the Promised Land. Michael patiently listened and then calmly and confidently affirmed his feelings of frustration and then redirected the conversation to finding a solution. Over. And over. And over again. 

I was totally impressed with how professional and kind he was to this man. I got to see Superman as Clark Kent or maybe it was Clark Kent as Superman. Either way, I got a little glimpse of the other side of the magic...and I am in awe. :)

Itchy Armpit

(I couldn't come up with a title so I asked one of my children to provide me with a title. Thus, Itchy Armpit :)

Our family endured through 6 years of public school.

We made the decision two years ago to bring our oldest son home for schooling. The public school system was not working for him and honestly, I was done trying to make it work.

Gradually over that school year we brought two more of these wild indians home for schooling. And while the two who remained in public school were doing well in that environment, we decided that home schooling is best for our family right now.

Am I saying that our kids will never go back to school? No. I don't know what the future holds. But for now, we're happy with the decision we've made, and here's why...

1.) They have more free time to learn. WHAT? Yes. They read and research and play outside. They spend some time in book learning but it takes them a few hours and then they have the rest of their day to do chores, do internet research on a topic of their choice, do crafts, go to the library or visit the Perot Museum.

2.) I like being able to do stuff with my kids. I love that they are with me all the time. I love that if a friend is moving, I can load up my minions and help out. I love that if we decide to take a vacation, we can do it while everyone else is in school. We're going on a cruise in September because we got a super great deal...we wouldn't have felt free to do that if they were in public school.

3.) I want my kids to be free to learn the way they learn best. IF they need to do a round of burpees every few minutes to keep them focused on their work...they get up and do burpees every few minutes. I can find literature units on books they love. I can adjust their work load based on how their brain works...I tell Elisabeth to do 2 problems instead of 20 and she ends up doing them all anyway. It's just hard for her to focus when she's overwhelmed. I love being able to do that.

4,) I want my kids to understand that it's okay to be different and to think differently and to do things differently. God didn't make us all to be the same. Different does not equal wrong.

A Mother's Day Tale :)

I was born in a little "Indian" clinic in Cuba, New Mexico--a little town about 80 miles northwest of Albuquerque. We didn't actually live in Cuba. In fact, we didn't live in any town at all. We lived in the (literal) middle of nowhere...they hadn't even run electric or telephone lines and we didn't have indoor plumbing. My parents moved there to do mission work.

My favorite picture of my mom (which has mysteriously disappeared) is one of her standing over a washboard scrubbing clothes...because in 1982 they didn't have electricity and thus no washing machine. They had put the washboard on the tailgate of a pick up truck so she wouldn't have to bend over her swollen belly. The best part of the picture? The enormous smile on her face.

You would have thought that a pregnant woman, living in the middle of nowhere, who didn't have the most basic luxuries (like using an indoor bathroom instead of an outhouse) that all of her friends had  would not have many reasons to smile. But she did. Because what we have and where we live does not determine who we are or our level of contentment. It's a heart issue.

What I do with what I have won't change when I have more. It's a heart issue. If I can't be happy living in the middle of nowhere, with no electricity and no indoor plumbing then I won't be happy with a mansion on a hill and a flushing toilet. It's a heart issue.

Sometimes I moan and bellyache because life isn't easy or because other people's lives seem easier than mine. But you know what? It's the hard moments, the crunch times, the days where I just don't understand how I'm gonna make it through that change me the most. Those are the days I'm the most happy and thankful for in the end.

I can say yes to God with what I already have and then approach the situation with a sense of adventure and watch as God blesses me with creativity and a learning experience...setting me up to be better prepared in the future...OR I can dig my heels in and resist every inch of the way and be just as overwhelmed the next time.

Tough decision?! It shouldn't be, but it is for me. Because it really is a heart issue. One that I'm praying for and submitting to God to change.

God is good!!

Answered Prayers

So, I get a lot of questions and comments from young moms about how overwhelmed they are with whatever number of kids they have and how they don't know how I handle 5. I typically say something like I don't handle it well and that having 5 isn't much different than having 2.

But that isn't true. I've believed it when I've said it, but it really isn't true. When even ONE of my kids goes elsewhere it feels like a mini vacation. Regardless of how well behaved the kid is or how well they get along with their siblings. I really do love being with my kids. Please don't take this to mean that I don't.

I love my kids. I'm so glad they're mine. But I can't help thinking that I wish they had a better mom.

I have not been a good mom. Someone really should have called CPS on me. For real.

I was not emotionally or psychologically healthy during my childbearing years. On top of that, after Lilla was born I developed my thyroid issues and was barely functional...and I was so unhealthy in the first place that I didn't even realize I was sick. My thyroid was overworking so much that my muscles began to break down...the body was not made to function in constant 'fight or flight' mode and bad things happen when it does, If I was sitting on the floor it was EXTREMELY difficult to stand up. Walking or any activity for any length of time made me nauseated and sick...I literally threw up from doing normal every day activities...the way I would from a difficult workout.  The massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through my body constantly (from the over producing thyroid) made it extremely difficult to sleep, which presented problems of it's own. I went to the doctor once and my resting heart rate was 200. I was laying down and my heart rate was 200.

I was literally a mess. I needed help. But I was too unhealthy to ask for it and nobody knew to give it...so I didn't get it.

I eventually got the medical help that I needed but it was years before I was 'normal' again. Things gradually got better and better. Through many different avenues God has done so much work on me. It's really amazing and mind boggling to think about what my life looked like 10 years ago versus how it looks now. It's DEFINITELY not perfect, there is a lot of room for improvement, but it's better.

Recently, God has brought a lot of the darkness in my life out into the light. I've come to realize that there really isn't something wrong with me like I've always thought there was. I'm not inherently evil. And everything bad that happens in my life isn't, and never has been, my fault. I've come to recognize a lot of unhealthy behavior that I had always thought was healthy, both in myself and in others. And I've come to understand the root causes of my particular sins, addictions and unhealthy behaviors.

And sadly, I've come to understand that some relationships just can't ever be what I want and need them to be. Other people face their own problems and issues and sometimes, for whatever reason, the damage done to them renders them incapable of giving me what I want from them. And I need to stop expecting the relationship to be different or keep thinking that if I could ever just be a good enough person that things will change.

I've said all of this to say that the culmination of all of this is a lot of prayer. I pray on a daily basis for my kids and my husband. And lately, I've been asking Him to teach me how to love my husband and children and how to be kind and pure and self controlled and a manager of my home. And to give me relationships with older women who can teach me these things.

And you know what? He's done just that.  Over the years and through many different people. This past Saturday I attended a training seminar at my church for a women's ministry that will begin in the fall. It's based on Titus 2 and it's designed to be a structured environment where the older women and the younger women can get to know one another, the older women can teach the younger women the things they need to know and offer them the support they need.

BOOM! Exactly what I've been praying for!!! God is sooooooooooooooo good. Isn't he?!

It is stinking amazing how God works. He is so good. I am so thankful for His grace and the work He's done in my life to take the utter mess that I am and change me into something better...all for His glory!

Blessed are the Codependent People?

I don't ever remember a time when I wasn't afraid of people.

As a result, I learned at a young age to be acutely aware of other people and their words, facial expression, moods and body language. I am especially sensitive to the slightest changes in all of them.

I probably would have made a good spy.

It is uncanny how unconsciously observant I am.

This ability comes in handy sometimes, but it also presents a problem for me, because I allow the information I gather to hold me hostage. I put too much weight on the feelings of other people and allow them to affect my actions and feelings to an unhealthy degree. In the name of peacekeeping I have let things go that should have been addressed. I'm afraid of how others will respond. I have allowed the elephant in the room that's suffocating us all to just keep depriving the relationship of oxygen.

God has been working on me though.  Because this life isn't about pleasing people or making them like me. It's about dying to myself (and my codependent, people pleasing ways) and laying my life down as a living sacrifice. And that might involve people judging me and thinking negatively about me even when I am in the center of God's will.

My friend Carrie recently pointed out to me that Jesus said "Blessed are the peacemakers" not blessed are the codependent people or the passive people. Peace very often comes as the result of some sort of confrontation. This doesn't mean that I should confront everyone I know about everything I disagree with them over. It means the relational issues, the things that damage the relationship. Not everything I disagree with someone over should damage the relationship.

I'm definitely not cured. I haven't yet been able to confront anyone other than my husband, but there's progress. I'm finding myself less affected by others opinions of me. Twice recently I've overheard someone talking about me in a  not so nice way and it barely even registered on my radar. Previously I would have been angry and retaliated in some way. But I didn't!!! Praise God!

I am so thankful for a kind and loving God who fills me with His Spriit, covers me with the blood of His Son and loves me inspite of my flaws!

Truth and Lies

Since working through my Celebrate Recovery step study I've come to realize that all of my character defects are based on lies I've believed. Some lies are things people have told me with their actions or words, and some are lies I've "learned" from my life experiences. It doesn't matter where or who they come from...lies are lies. They all have the same father.

Lies are sometimes difficult to discern. Especially when there seems inerrant proof. And even more when I am the teller of them.

I'm not likable.
I'm not good enough.
I can't.
I'm garbage.
I'm unloved.
I'm ugly.
I have horrific faults, so I am unusable by God.


The thing is, belief is a choice. It's the context into which I receive information. I could find "proof" of just about anything. People have been convicted of crimes based on a lot of evidence and then proven innocent on one piece of evidence alone that completely changes the context of all the other evidence.

Evidence matters. But the context matters as much.

My belief that God exists, that He is good and that I and others matter to Him should be the frame of context of any evidence I receive or give about myself and about others.

I also believe that God is Truth. He tells the truth. Always. So anything I think or tell myself about myself or about others should be measured against what HE says and accepted or rejected on that basis.

So how do I know the above things are indeed lies? Because I've measured them against what God says is true.

I'm not likable/I'm unloved. People not liking me does not mean I'm not likable. I'm seeking the approval of God, not men (Galatians 1:10). He loves me, whether or not anyone on this earth does (Psalm 103, Psalm 17).

I'm not good enough/I'm garbage/I have horrific faults, so I am unusable by God...I don't have to be "good enough"...because Jesus died for me while I was still a sinner (Romans 5-8). There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. And guess what?! I'm in Christ Jesus. So guess what?! No condemnation!!!!!! Wooohooooooo! And almost all of the people God used in the Old Testament were people who had major flaws. With God all things are possible.

I can't...I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13)

I'm ugly...It doesn't matter whether I'm ugly or not. God doesn't look at the outward man. And favor is deceitful and beauty is vain but a woman who fears the Lord should be praised. (1 Samuel 16:7, Proverbs 31:30)

The truth really does set me free. But I need to continually fill up with truth so the lies are easily recognized and refuted and I don't respond in whatever character defect is triggered by them.

The Practicalness of Humility

I used to have a sort of phobia of being wrong...of anyone (including myself) seeing my faults.  Even when I was wrong I would defend the behavior or belief...to myself and everyone else...as if I were completely right.  I was in complete and utter denial.

Looking back, I did some really stupid things based on my pride and desire to be right and feel superior.

Hiding was the name of my game. My faults were the herd of stampeding elephants in the room.

I can't say exactly WHEN God began working on this character flaw. I think it may have started when I realized, in my marriage, that if things were going to change, if we were going to get off the merri-go-round of unhappiness and unhealthy behavior and actually have a good marriage--or at least a bearable one-- someone was going to have to break the cycle...and it might as well be me.

I realized and slowly came to believe more and more that being the first to admit fault...and generally having an "I could be totally wrong" attitude... had zero negative repercussions and a million positive ones.

Here are a few...

1.) If I maintain a posture of humility, actually being wrong is not as big of a deal.  Falling from a height of 12 inches is way less painful than falling from 12 feet. And way less damage is done.

2.)  Pride basically holds me hostage to ignorance and stunted growth. If I already assume I know the answer and am right, it's virtually impossible to learn. And if I can't learn, I can't grow.

If a child insisted that baby jibberish was correct and refused to learn to speak and communicate properly...can you imagine all they would miss out on?  They could only communicate with the few people who take the time to learn their baby jibberish. They could never read the Bible or go to school or tell a joke or get a job. It would be utterly ridiculous. Baby jibberish is beautiful...from a baby. From a 30 year old? Not so much if that 30 year old is capable of learning to communicate properly.

3.) Even if I'm sure I'm right, it's still wise to operate from the standpoint that *I* could be the fool who thinks they're right...because I could be. THEN if it becomes clear that I'm right, it's easier for the other person to admit it. But if it becomes clear that I'm wrong, it will be easier to learn the lesson and move on with a smile.

4.) It's WAY more fun to be completely open to being wrong and to learning than having the anxiety of feeling the need to prove I'm right all the time. To walk into a situation willing to put myself "out there" to be corrected and taught is so freeing because no matter what, I come out better off.

5.) It also makes me much more approachable. It's like the idea that people are more comfortable in a home that isn't spotless because they aren't afraid they're going to mess it up. It's easier to approach someone that you know isn't judging you and won't talk down to you for having a different opinion or for not knowing something.

6.) Humility and approachableness is an act of service to others. Being willing to be taught and being open to being wrong allows others to see and learn with you even if they are afraid to put themselves "out there". And being approachable is important because we need each other...because iron sharpens iron...it doesn't sharpen itself...we need another piece of iron for that. We need community.

None of this means that I take every piece of advice or always do what other people think I should. We're about pleasing God, not men. I pray constantly for wisdom and discernment and God is faithful. Does that mean I ALWAYS make good and right decisions or always heed this advice? Absolutely not. I fall back into this behavior sometimes. It does mean that it's easier to get back up when I fall because I know that falling is always a possibility...so it's easier to recognize and admit...and rely on God's grace instead of my own ability to make right decisions all day every day.

God is good.

Broken Together

So, two people meet.  They "fall in love".  Then they encounter some type of obstacle and they almost don't make it...but they do and they live happily ever after.

So, I used to think that the Hollywood version of love couldn't be farther from the truth, but these days I think it's actually fairly accurate. Sort of.

In real life we meet, we're attracted to one another, we spend time together and decide to get married.  Then we encounter some type of obstacle and we wonder if we're going to make it. We either do or we don't but if we do, we're deeper in love.  And then it all starts again.

It's like an onion. (Donkey was onto something!) Onions are stinky. But to get to and deal with the stinky part that's actually offending my eyes and nose, I have to peel the layers off. Start with the skin.  It doesn't make a ton of difference but it's progress.  Progress is great and feels amazing but I get through one layer and revel in the awesomeness just as I realize there's another layer.

And sometimes it takes lots of peeling and lots of work to actually get to the core...to the source of the stink. And with every layer that gets peeled off the eyes burn more and the stink gets worse.

Yes, we could have been happy just leaving the onion whole or with any level along the way. But that would mean being okay with our individual sin...rejecting Jesus and His work in our lives.

And yes, this is hard. I have wondered so many times if we were going to make it.  There were times when I honestly thought I was going to break. Somehow I always find the strength to keep holding on and we eventually get to the other side...another layer peeled off. It feels great and we revel in it and praise God for it.

And then we realize there's another layer. Thanks to God and the people and help He's brought into our lives I think we may have actually reached the core. Our sin and the roots of it.

So that's where we are. Layers peeled off down to the core and God is working to neutralize the stink so He can build us back up sans the offensive odor that had colored and completely devoured every layer of our lives.

So, it isn't the easy slippers-and-pipe life that I always thought it was.  I always thought that if you loved each other...there wouldn't ever be problems.

But we're broken people. So our marriage is broken too. We can love each other through the brokenness because God loved us through it first. We're broken together.

Wild Indians and Sponges

Ever since our kids were small we've had a little devotional at the end of the day (um, we're inconsistent goons...so do not take this to mean every night). At first it mostly consisted of Michael and I thinking of songs to sing and then singing them and the kids would jump in where they could. Nowadays there's harmony. We can usually break out into 4 part harmony...and Michael gets an opportunity to sing bass.

Anyway, as they've gotten older we have included more Bible lessons and prayer as well.  And more recently we've started two new things, something we call "Mutual Edification" and a Share group night (inspired by and closely following Celebrate Recovery share groups).  The share group night just gives everyone the opportunity to share their thoughts and feelings without interruption and without repercussions, and it also teaches them how to be safe people (people that can be trusted to not share each other's information and who can listen without fixing or judging and who can openly share their own issues based on that). Mutual Edification is when we go around the room and everyone either leads a song, says a prayer or reads a scripture.

I've noticed lately that when given the opportunity to pick a song, our kids aren't choosing the newer, catchy songs that have been typical in the past.  They are asking for the older hymn types of songs. It makes me smile because this has come about since they were exposed to the stories behind these songs a few months ago.

Back around the New Year, our family attended a church meeting where workshops were provided at the morning sessions, while traditional worship services were held in the evenings. Every morning I dragged my kids out of bed and we headed down to Irving Church of Christ to participate in the group worship time and the workshops following.

We went because I wanted to. I don't recall them expressing any negative feelings about it but they just never seemed particularly engaged during the big group worship time.  Anyway, every morning they played a video that dramatically told the story behind a super popular hymn. The ones that got led every service of my childhood. The ones I secretly groaned about...and that my kids NEVER requested to sing.

I remember one or two of them getting emotional during one of the stories but this apparently made a significant impression on them...and me. They hum these songs constantly and they get requested ALL THE TIME.

It makes me happy, but also a little bit more wary. Because if something can affect them that much without me even trying...I need to be more intentional with my time and activities and even when I think they aren't listening or don't care.

Because apparently these wild indians are little (or very large) sponges. :)