I love the Jesus in YOU!

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith."  Hebrews 12:2

Another busy weekend winding down.  It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon, and this momma could go to bed for the night.  Really.  I could.  Griffyn decided that 6 a.m. would be the perfect hour to get up this morning after running around like "twaazy buttets" (aka 'crazy buckets'--as he calls it) this weekend without a moments rest (the busier we are, the less sleep he seems to require), so he and I decided to make some homemade coffee cake--and a pot of coffee :).  He slept with me last night--and as his feet always seem to find my back, face, or side (Ninjago style)--not much sleeping was done on my part.  The wind kept waking him--and after the five thousandth time of him waking me--it was just easier to have him join me.  I will miss this one day--I know I will :).
It was another basketball weekend.  Lots of fun, and Marty and Max were also able to enjoy a very emotional and bonding father and son experience at Carver as well for the Chris Street Memorial game.  I decided it would be too much to expect Griffyn to sit through after sitting through brother's basketball games and would make it not as enjoyable for Daddy and Max.  We had some Mommy and Griffyn time while Daddy and Max cheered on the Hawkeyes.
Lots of tears this weekend as Marty and I remember the day Chris Street died as if it were yesterday.  Some days in your life are imprinted on your memory so crystal clear--like a perfect photograph--and that day is one of them for both of us.  The footage from the news brought back the feelings, the disbelief, the heartache so powerfully--and now being a mommy of two boys--it meant something on an entirely different level than it did to me all those years ago. 
And it was such a teachable moment for our boys--Griffyn being a little too young to fully understand (but able to glean some things), and Max being at the perfect age to grasp most of it.  Life is fleeting, such a gift--and now is not forever.  And for Max to see what an impression Chris made on those around him in his short life and how each day we all can choose, choose to do the right thing, the kind thing, the best thing in our lives--to make this world a better place--because we all will eventually leave it--and none of us know when. 
And I found myself crying again for his momma who never got to see her son "grow up", his sisters who will always be missing their brother, a father a son, and all those people who have that big whole in their hearts because they are missing their Chris.  And for those of us who experienced it all then?  He was one of us--but like a billion times cooler--way cooler.  And on top of that, he was such a great person--which made him even more special--because those two things are rare.  Very rare.  And I would venture to say that today that combination is even more of an ambiguity. 
So in all of this family's business, we were able to sit down for a minute, take a breath, say a prayer and reconnect and reaffirm that it's not just what we do, it's why we do it--it's for Him--it's for the Lord, in all we do, it's for the Lord--to show His LOVE, to show His grace, to show His face to this world that needs his mercy so badly, His peace, His light--because there is so much darkness out there.  It's an 'all about me' world that doesn't have time for loving its neighbors anymore...
How can we do this in just the little things? Like basketball, Max wanted to know.  Can I show God's love and character even when I play basketball?  By good sportsmanship.  Seems to be waning out there lately.  In this ultra competitive world, it sure seems to be waning.  When a player falls, you reach out your hand and help him up, smile, ask if he's okay, and help him up.  When a play doesn't go your way, you don't throw a fit, throw a jab (you'd be surprised) or an attitude, you roll with it and move on, you always, always, be the better person.  And yes, it's okay to get mad inside.  It's okay to be disappointed.  It's going to happen in life.  But we remember why we're here--and it has nothing to do with us.  It has everything to do with Him.  Just like playing on a team.  No one gets anywhere when they're just out for themselves.  It takes the whole team--moving and playing together to get the job done--so it is in life.  It takes all of us, doing our part, small to big--to put the ball in motion--to shine the light of Jesus--for as long as we have breath...
And I held my boys a little tighter, and thanked God for them a little more, and Lord am I blessed!!!!! For this world is not our home, and it is a hard journey (if you take more than two seconds to look outside yourself, that's all it takes to see how hard it is), but is sure is full of awesome stuff too, and all I have to do is show up every day and be the vessel... 
I thank God for these two boys with the biggest hearts that want to do God's will and share his love and have the eyes to look and see where it is needed all on their own--I know how rare that is, and I will do my very best to foster that spirit of empathy.  "Mom, I want to make a card for so and so cause he's been sick, Mom I want to make cookies for so and so cause they just got out of the hospital"--really, cause I just want to go to bed :).  No, I'm not that bad...  Okay, sometimes I am... ;)  I couldn't be more proud of both of them.  They will continue to face big obstacles because of their big hearts, but they will also know that with the love of God and the love and support of this family, they can do anything--faith can move mountains! :)
Time to put everything back in its place and tackle some laundry.  Here comes another Monday.  It really seems our weekends are just as full as our weeks, and I am so thankful for purpose behind our busy.  He is in all things and holds all things together.  No matter how many times we feel we will unravel.  He is there--giving us the strength we need! :)

And G seems to need some lunch.  Max is at a birthday party, so he's taken care of (thank you, Gloria and Pat :)) and Marty is playing basketball, so he can fend for himself :). 

Yet, I could still go to bed ;).  How's a bowl of cereal, G?  I kid, I kid...

Wishing you early bedtimes (very wishful thinking, yes, but wishing you all the same...).  Much love and may we continue to shine "this little light of mine" because I love the Jesus in you!!! :)

"All I know is I'm not home yet, this is not where I belong, take this world and give me Jesus, this is not where I belong..."

An authentic heart...

The sun is shining and it's a beautiful, albeit cold, day.  I sit down to write as the house is quiet and still, and the minute my coffee is poured, I'm comfy and ready to go, the boys become a frenzy of noise and activity.  Isn't that the way it always goes?  Marty is out of bed, at least, to man the new game upstairs the boys have made up together.  He had a late night watching the game with a few friends while the boys and I cuddled up at home and watched "Lady and the Framp", as Griffyn calls it. Something always so heartwarming about that movie.

Healing up slow, but healing up.  For people who don't have asthma, I know it's hard to understand--but any type of illness that is respiratory just nails your lungs--and the paradox of being on prednisone is that is makes you susceptible to picking up everything else.  But I am so happy to be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and in all of this, God is really forcing me to "be still".  Really.  My body is not giving me a choice--and my doctor is threatening me with this word called "hospital" and some other rather unconventional treatments.  So I am letting go a bit, doing what I can, and just enjoying my boys, and actually letting people take care of me.  Oddly, that has been really, really, really hard for me to do!  The boys have been enjoying it.  My friend Nicole makes the best soup and we get another batch tomorrow (spoiled much?), and Grandma brought dinner and lots and lots of cookies over (gone), and Daddy has been running out for yummy pizza, and snuggle time with mommy is at it's all time highest (just no kisses on the lips--which is a bummer), so they are fairing well.  Just had to miss Max's basketball tournament this weekend, which I hated. 

Being ill for this long has also given me some time to sit and think.  I don't get to do that enough.  Why is it so hard for me to accept help, to accept joy, to accept all this love?  It's like I have this shell around my heart that just needs to be cracked open--I literally picture taking a hammer to it and shattering it.  Why, why, why???  At times I know that I feel unworthy, yes, or that needing help is a weakness of some sort.  That I should be able to do this all by myself.  And I know that's a "toughness" I've built to cope--and it's a darn hard wall to knock down.  But there has to be more...  This is old news, sitting on a couch for years, therapy news, and I'm tired of it, tired of all the stress in my life, the pain, the struggle... and I need some release, I need it to get better, I can not--quite simply--do this anymore...  At the advice of my doctor, it's time to clean house--just like we do our closets, our basements, as we de-clutter anything in our lives--it's time to clean out the clutter and "toxins" that take up space and squeeze out our joy.  I feel like my soul is suffocating along with these lungs.

So I asked myself one question.  What is of greatest value and importance to me in my life?  What matters the most?  Easy and simple stuff.  God, my family, and my friends.  And what about those relationships is so vital and important to me?  One word.  AUTHENTICITY.  They are true, honest, and real.  And those relationships in my life that cause such pain, that put me on the defensive, that deplete my energy and stab at my soul?  They are completely lacking of this.  Those people manipulate, lie, have their own agenda, and have no respect for me.  They do not give me their true selves, nor do they respect or accept my true self.  I have no time for relationships like this anymore.  Life is too short.  If you can not have the respect to give me who you are or give me the respect to love me for who I am, we will not have a relationship.  Because it simply is not possible.  And it really is so simply to be who we are--it really is--so simple a choice to make.  The time it takes to manifest lies, to destroy and create drama, scenarios to manipulate and get your way, the phone calls, the gossip, the strings to pull to advocate a selfish agenda--time better spent in selfless love, getting to know and appreciate the people around you. I'm over it.  I can be civil, I can be kind and considerate to you, but I can not be your friend.  But in reality, that really was not the relationship that existed to begin with.  Be mad, pout, and stir up the waves--I'm not afraid of the confrontation either.  After this many years, wow, I can truly say I do not care if you are mad at me.  Those are your feelings and your choices to make.  And these, these are mine.

As the boys get louder and louder, I struggle to find the clarity of words I would like to convey to you, friends (I write my best blogs in my sleep :)), but ran across this gem I had to share from Linda Dillow, "We must live as women who KNOW the meaning and purpose of life.  As Goethe, the German philosopher put it, 'Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.'  If we haven't chosen what we are living for, we're living life by default, acting out the scripts handed to us by family, other people's agendas, and the pressure of circumstance.  This is not living as a woman who knows the meaning and purpose of life.  But it's never too late to change."

I could blame my past, I could blame going from one crazy past into another crazy situation and never having the chance to sort out who I was and being tossed about between two seas of crap--or I can move on, learn, and take a giant leap forward and say ENOUGH already.  There comes a point when you have to stop being so afraid of rocking the boat that no one else seems to be willing to stand up and say "hey, there's giant holes in this thing everywhere and we're all sinking" and jump out and dare to live your best life--for you, for your kids, for your family--and KNOW that God's got your back.  You don't need anything more than that.  Really.  Not even your mate.  You can't sit around and wait for the "perfect conditions" in your mind.  God works through the most imperfect conditions!  Amen!

I've always had God with me, yes, but I haven't always felt empowered by choice.  Now I am.  I know that God's got my back.  He's going to be fighting this battle for me and all I need to do it be still.  Stand my ground, and be still.  No, this is my family, no, you don't know what is best for my children, and yes, you can cry and make up what ever it is you want to about me (God knows me and that's all that matters--my credibility is with him--I really don't care what anyone--let me clarify--ANYONE--thinks of me--so lie, lie, twist, twist away)--hey, it's nothing new and has been going on for years--that's the funny part--nothing will change--it'll still be the same crap--it'll just be better choices for me and for my family.  And I couldn't be more excited!!!  It won't be easy, I know.  There will be riffs--but there always have been, but the freedom will be sweet.  Others will make their choices too, and those are their own, and I am not afraid of those either.  We all have the ability to make choices--I'm just learning that--as I've just been bouncing off and healing from everyone else's.  It is my time to stand, to move forward in strength and love with this family--to make us an even bigger powerhouse of faith and Godliness than we already are!  Because the good Lord above is who guides this home, no one else.  I am so ready!

And I won't be bullied anymore.  By anyone.  Because that is exactly what it is.  And I have found the people that come at you with the biggest smiles, the biggest productions/introductions "how are yous" (and know the very least about you, but pretend they know it all in social situations), and widest of eyes often have the ugliest of hearts--and Jesus says over and over in the Bible that you shall know them by their love.  Love is authentic--and I can't wait to begin and begin again each and every day to give and be the authentic person that God made me to be--and the simplicity and joy that that will forever bring--and to finally break this shell over a heart that has been covered by the cage of a lack of choice for far too long. 

I thank God that he never ever gives up on us, and that no matter what our age, life can truly begin again.  And I am so excited for the leaps and bounds this family can take together in the freedom of his love, grace, and mercy--and for those amazing souls that he has put in our lives that have been there for us in prayer and strength and authentic love all this time.  We praise God for all of you too!!! 

The rules of this new game have changed upstairs and Griffyn and Max seem to have come to an impass.  This really seemed much more eloquent in the quiet phases of sunshine streaming through the window with coffee this morning, but I'm hoping my ramblings give you some sense of encouragement to shed the shackles of who others expect us to be.  Breaking free and soaking in the sun this morning to be whom ever this being God created Angie to be is--and ready to embrace that--even accepting all the mess that is.  Broken vessels. God uses them :). "For with God, nothing shall be impossible."  Luke 1:37

Love to you all.  Authentic, rich and simple love!

The Stoic and his Charlie, Chaplin that is...

Taking a break from the bed to sit at the computer--baby steps for this sick momma.  A change of scenery--flexing my muscles--yes, this takes energy for me.  Inhaler (check) hot tea (check) stocking cap (check) blankets (check) vapor rub (check) clear mind (not so much)...

But I need something to "do" be it just sweat, ramble and muse to myself...

Yucky week and weekend.  Many lessons learned.  One being, do not leave a fever unattended for a week (rather stupid).  Two being, I could very well die in the middle of the night without my husband ever noticing.  One more unsettling than the other.  And three, my kids are extraordinary (well, I already knew that one--but reaffirmation is always encouraging).

Friday, 3 a.m., my body woke itself with violent shaking and ironically, with all that shaking, I could not move.  I was soaked in sweat and knew I needed to do something (had that much going for me), but couldn't move.  I could, after a bit, roll into Marty, but could not get him to wake up.  After attempting this several times he did manage to get irritated and tell me to be quiet because he had to go to work tomorrow (all of which he doesn't remember)--just my luck, teacher in service and first day back after Christmas break--so me and the boys home alone with their momma sicker than sick--awesome.
 
Managed to roll out of bed, literally (thud), and drag myself to the living room--I just wanted to get warm--so, so cold.  Got the fireplace turned on, piled on blankets and slept on the bricks.  Woke up to bruises all over my body.  Must have thrashed around a bit more than I remember.  Explained to my husband that I would be going to the doctor and the boys and I wouldn't be having the fun mommy day we had planned.  He called as we were leaving for the doc (so thankful to get in right away that morning--LOVE our Andrea!!!) to see if he could drop off one of Griffyn's friends to play for the day.  Clearly not getting it.  It's a good thing technology has not progressed so far so that we can slap someone through a phone, because that would have left a mark.
 
It was enough to get myself into the shower--which was necessary after sweating through pj's twice--and my amazing Max stepped into that big brother role so effortlessly, as he always does--getting his little brother his breakfast "no, you can't have candy, Griffyn, do you want milk on your cereal or just plain, what shirt do you want to wear?".  What would I do without that kid?  We pile in the car and we're off to our fun visit that ended up being much more eventful than I ever anticipated.  Thank God there is a sucker basket upon departure.  The boys earned them!

Packed office.  Apparently there's a bunch of crap going around or something.  The boys all plod on back there with me.  Mommy's sick.  Jeez, mommy's really sick.  You need an inhaler.  Let's get you something now.  You need a shot.  It's going to be in your bottom.  My kid's eyes got pretty wide at this point.  Then antibiotic, which should kick in in about three days.  And you need to stay in bed.  For real.  I'll call your husband if you need me to.  What time does he get home?  Like I said, LOVE our Andrea!
 
Nurse comes in with the needle (and it's really not IN your "bun bun", as my youngest says, more towards the top) and that sucker burns and just knocks me out.  For realz, people.  Lie down, 30 minutes--not a problem.  Eyes close, and I just feel so bad for my boys--who's therapy bills are mounting by the second at this point.  In and out of this burning weirdness, I hear their sweet voices and see Griffyn snuggling up to Max, "See dot a sot in her bun bun?"  "Yes, Griffyn, she'll be okay."  I hear Griffyn get up to come around and look at it, so I ask him if he wants to see thinking it will dispel any horrid image he may have in his head.  "Do you have a band aid, Momma?".  I tell him, yes (at least I think I do) and fall back in semi-sleep.  I feel him get up on his tippy toes and kiss it.  "You dot a dood one, Momma.  It's Deorge.  It not a baby one yike Elmo".  Oh good.  Curious George on my butt is huge a relief.  I was afraid it was something embarrassing like Elmo.  He goes back to cuddle with Max.  Even in delerium, the kid cracks me up.

"What if see has to doe poop?  Yike a BIG one!" If I didn't feel like puking, I would have laughed. "Griffyn, that's gross!" is all Max says without further attention to that matter.  Fair question, G, fair question.  "See yooks tinda dead."  "Griffyn don't say that!  She just got a shot in her bottom and it hurts really bad!  Like a thousand times bad, so she's just sleeping and will have to rest today, okay?"  Max, at this point sounds like he's trying to convince himself just as much as G and I just want to get up and give them both a BIG hug and all I can mumble is "I'm sorry" which goes completely unheard.  Maybe I just thought I said it.

"Wewwl, who wiwll do all da mommy fings?  Yike weed me my Desus stowies and sing me my songs and make me my snacks and..." and then he got really sad and was starting to cry so Max says, "I know how to do all that stuff, Griffyn".  "Dat's wight."  Griffyn says, "You tan weed."  Then it's quiet for a little bit.  "An wiwll you wattch my favowit moovies wif me too and tuddle me?"  G asks.  "Yes, Griffyn, I will".  "Even da ones dat div you nightmares?" (G's a big Tim Burton cartoon fan--Max, not so much), "Yes, Griff, even the ones that freak me out"...

And little hot tears start going down my face and my heart is about ready to explode--not from fever or over dose of ibuprofen or Excedrin migraine this week--but out of immense love for these two.  Because out of all the mistakes I have made and continue to make in this life, dammit, if I can teach them one thing, it's that we take care of each other.  Let me say that again.  We Take Care Of Each Other. 

My biggest fear is that they don't see that enough in this family.  I have taken care of myself for the greater part of my life--I didn't change my own diapers--but the rest I can take credit for--the good, the bad, and the ugly--I had to learn it all on my own.  As a momma, I don't want my kids to feel any part of what I felt growing up.  It is also not something that comes naturally to my husband at all and something I haven't asked of him because I was used to doing it on my own--and didn't think I deserved any better.  I did, however, after having two children at some point think it would come (I was just tired, quite frankly) and wanted it to come but was too proud to ask.  My light bulb moment came when a friend of mine who had been battling cancer for 18 months messaged me offering to help me when I was sick and she knew Marty was going out of town again.  She had just had stitches taken out after having surgery and couldn't even put her arms up over her head.  I had a horrible case of the flu and strep and Marty was going out of town for the weekend for a football game.  She offered to come get the boys for a few hours so I get get a little rest.  Epiphany and pride gone--and for the first time in 15 years of our relationship, I didn't give a crap if he felt it in his heart or not--I told him to call his mother and let her know he wasn't going to be going to the football game--he'd be staying home to take care of his sick wife--his family.  This same amazing woman and friend just offered to send pizza or what ever we wanted over for dinner this weekend.  It is so nice to feel cared for, isn't it?  It meant the world to me.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Nicole, for always being you and for teaching me to be a better me!  That old me is definitely gone.  I do deserve more, and not necessarily more--but just the basics of humanity--and so do my kids.  They deserve to see a family be a family--and Marty did a fabulous job today.  Thank you, honey.  I appreciated it so much.  And that's not just the fever talking!
 
Back in the doctor's office, I opened my eyes to make sure that Griffyn knew his mommy was really livin'.  He got up and gave me lots of kisses and kept asking me every second if my "bun bun" was okay (he still is actually--and truthfully, that sucker makes your butt sore--just so you know).  My boys are thoughtful, loving, sweet boys, and they know how to take care of each other and this momma and their friends and the rest of the world, for that matter.  The rest of the day, Max brought me water and checked on me, kept G quiet (he just wanted to snuggle with me so badly and couldn't help but come in and beg for cuddles), and made lunch (they had microwave popcorn and bananas--not bad, I'd say).  And I have never been a prouder momma.  This is what being a family is all about. 

And this year is going to be a new year (hopefully a healthier one too, but taking it all in stride as it seems that lots of sick junk is just hitting everyone--I check facebook and suddenly don't feel so alone in my cootie capers!).  We all have choices.  For some reason, I have never let myself fully grasp that or feel that I have that privilege.  My doctor had to even tell me that.  We have choice.  Not just the people who treat us like crap ;)--we all have choices--and this year, there will be better choices--I am not trapped. 

I may not have the choice as to whether I physically feel like crap right now, but I do have the choice as to whether or not I emotionally feel like crap.  God doesn't want that for any of us.  And yes, we can treat people with grace and love and mercy and forgive, but we do not need to let them trample all over our pearls repeatedly...  And I am hoping, in some respect, that this creates better health for myself as well.  Thanks again to Nicole for the pizza offer and for always offering to help out--as I don't have that often--from the over ten crowd.  It was medicine for my heart today.  You, who have known pain and sickness to a far greater extent than anyone.  Bless you! 

Rambling, rambling as Griffyn watches his Barbie Princess and the Pop Star (his new favorite movie--the tunes are pretty catchy) and Marty dishes up Fizz ice cream for the boys.  Hoping to sleep.  And ready to wake up and feel better tomorrow!  Peace, love, and bun buns! (just had to say it one more time!)  It is rather fun.  Come on, give it a whirl.  You won't be able to stop either :)!