Not my will but Yours, Oh Lord!

It has been a busy month as the holiday season is in full swing.  Our first Halloween in our new neighborhood was a blast, and next week we will be celebrating Thanksgiving. In between those holidays we hosted a pumpkin carving party, had Calboy's 6th birthday party, attended a few school activities, and managed to grow our family by one. Whew... I'm worn out!!

That's right, one more little Indian to add to the tribe. We found out on October 2nd that I am pregnant with our fourth child, and well, to be honest that was some of the scariest news I could have received. I did not jump for joy but instead felt weak and began to tremble. I did not make any big announcement to the world and in fact kept our news a secret at first. I wasn't thankful. I was frustrated. I have plans and this was not one of them. So through my tears, I had a nice talk with the Lord about the situation and how I had a strategy that would bring Him glory and would work out quite nicely if we just stay on track. And my plans did include a fourth child (eventually), but that child would be adopted, later... like, in a few years. What a ministry and testimony for us and for our future child. I laid it all out there for the Lord so He could see that I had put alot of prayer and thought into this. I told Him how I took into consideration our finances and schedules; compared domestic verses international adoption; and evaluated our support system and when they might be ready for this big commitment. I traveled all the way to Phoenix, Arizona to attend an adoption conference. We had even purchased a larger home that would  accommodate a larger family. After all of that it made so much sense. Chris and I were taking this very seriously and even our boys were excited. We were all totally on board with this. It was a solid plan. It was sacrificial yet rewarding, and more importantly it was a God-glorifying plan. See?

So after a few tearful presentation-like prayers to God, like any humble, God-fearing woman I took another pregnancy test the next day. It was still positive. What? I had zero pregnancy symptoms. We were not trying to get pregnant and the timing didn't seem right at all. Unlike my plan, this did not seem to make sense. So then I started racking my brain for a reasonable explanation and came up with a very good one. My hormones must have been out of whack for some reason and that's how I had two false positives. My first theory was that September had been a really busy and emotional month and that combination could send a girl into a hormonal rage or just knock her right off schedule. The next theory came to me at the pharmacy. I went to buy prenatal vitamins and next to them were vitamins for women going through menopause. A light bulb went off in my head. I know 38 is kind of early for menopause to hit, but I had read somewhere that you could began having symptoms in your thirties. I so badly didn't want to be pregnant at 38, that I actually had an easier time accepting the fact that I could be at the beginning stages of menopause... a nemeses for many marriages. It's dreaded by most women and feared by all men. But that day, I was okay with it. Pregnancy at this stage in life is good for some but I was done. I did this three times already. My body must be confused. So I texted my sweet friend, Heather. Did she think that the onset of menopause could produce a false positive? She texted back an emphatic "NO!" Whatever, ...she's not a doctor.

Finally, I figured that because both tests came from the same box they must have been flawed, damaged somehow. I mean, Chris did pack them in the same grocery bag with a cold jug of milk. Perhaps the "extreme" temperature change compromised their accuracy.  Or perhaps they were just cheap. Maybe it wasn't my hormones that were all out of whack but the tests themselves. Therefore, about two weeks into this drama I purchased a third test. After all, I was still not experiencing any symptoms (or at least not acknowledging them). This time I was smart. I got a more expensive test and a different brand. I took the test in the morning like you are suppose to, and I made sure to not look at it for at least 30 seconds.  If you are wondering if I was taking myself seriously at this point, the answer is yes. Yes I was! Nothing else made sense. I wasn't ready for this. Not in any way - financially, emotionally, mentally, certainly not physically and clearly not spiritually.

The result,... it was positive a third time. I finally felt the way I must have looked... ridiculous. Being of somewhat more rational mind, I took a picture of the stick. Next time I found myself in denial I would look at that picture on my phone. This meant I had to accept the very probable fact that I was pregnant a fourth time; however, I still had a doctor's appointment three weeks away just to make sure. Before I could make it to the doctor the pregnancy symptoms kicked in full gear. I was tired, nauseated, making trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night and experiencing random urges to punch someone in the face for no reason (well, a few times it would have been justifiable but I refrained). At the first prenatal appointment we saw the little peanut-shaped body, the heartbeat and two little legs kicking about. I had never seen an ultrasound at this stage. We could clearly see the body, almost two inches long, and we could even make out the little facial features. Okay, that did it. I was convinced. We are indeed pregnant!

So what do I do now? There is no denying that there is a tiny life growing inside of me whether I like it or not; whether I think the timing is right or not. He or she is there because God created a life.

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:13-16

 

This has been His will for us all along. Despite my denial, my hesitation, my fears, my frustrations, even the resentment I felt about my own plan being tossed aside; despite all of my sinful ways, God has chosen to bless us for the purpose of His glory. I am so thankful for God's perpetual grace. I praise Him for His unyielding will and unconditional love for me. I am reminded that He wants us to find full satisfaction in Him.  If we seek it elsewhere, like in the accomplishment of our own plans instead of His, then He will draw us back. Out of an abundance of love for us, He will redirect our path. For that I am thankful.

I am still a huge advocate for adoption, and I still think I had a great plan. I'm an adoption attorney and my husband is a pastor for goodness sake. We advocate for adoption all the time. I will continue to pray about how our family can serve orphans and encourage others within the church to do the same. It is a treasured command from our Heavenly Father to care for His children who have no earthly parents. I do hope that our home will serve to bless some of those little ones in the future, but for now God has a different plan. I do not know much about His plan for this new addition to our family but I know it is better than any blueprint I could come up with myself.

I'm still not excited about being pregnant again, but I love being a mom. I was overwhelmed with joy at the arrival of each of our three boys (and actually a little shocked that they let me leave the hospital with them). There is no doubt that I will feel the same way about this beautiful child now developing in miraculous ways at the hand of a miraculous God. I now feel so humbled that the Lord would entrust Chris and I with another one of His precious gifts. No matter how nauseous, tired, out of shape or moody I get, I will carry on with joy and pray for a healthy new baby to love and nurture as we have the other three. May God be glorified in this!

Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Psalm 127:3.

... And to sum it up again!

I regret not posting more. It's been nearly two years since my last entry on The Trousdale Tribe. There are dozens and dozens of times in the past two years that I could have told a funny story or shared one of the boy's clever ideas on here, I just couldn't or just didn't find the time to do it. With my three rambunctious boys and witty husband I could fill pages and pages. But I will try once again to sum it all up in a very small blog.

Last time I blogged on here my oldest, Nate was 6 and in the middle of his first grade year. Calvin had just turned four and was in preschool. Our youngest, Eli, was just about to turn 2. They have all grown so much since then. Nate is now in third grade at Veritas Christian School.  He is getting so tall and has lost about half a dozen teeth. He is a really bright student (when he's paying attention) but he likes to be the class clown. He absorbs and analyzes information like crazy and can spit it back at you pretty quickly. The other day he informed me that he "preached" to his classmates at lunch. Oh, to be a fly on the wall. He's got a great sense of humor and can make you laugh even in the toughest times. He's articulate and witty like his father. Nate loves to aggravate though. Often he'll do it out of shear boredom and no one is safe. We've had many a note from school! However, he's also probably our most compassionate child. He is a great encourager too. Nate likes to play basketball and football. He plays his Wii games every weekend. He also started taking piano lessons and really seems to enjoy learning to play. Tonight he was writing his first rap song. Thankfully he has his own room now.

Calboy has started kindergarten. He is learning so much and soaking it up like a sponge. I love to hear him tell me all that he has learned in Bible each day. He still loves cowboys and superheros, but I think his favorite thing to do is to jump around like a Power Ranger (my least favorite show on this Earth). Cal is very agile and quick. He's gotten taller but he's still as skinny as a stick. His best buddy is Carson and the two of them can play for hours. Almost everyday Calboy comes home with a note or picture that one of the little girls at school has made for him. Last year five different mothers told me that their little girls had a crush on Cal. He is very well liked by his peers and the teachers. Although Calboy can catch an attitude like no other, he has a sweet heart and is as friendly as can be. Elijah has changed the most. He is now talking up a storm and asks a million questions. He'll be four in January and started pre-k 3 this year. He loves to go to school and church. The poor child is so confused because the preschool is at a church and our church meets in a school. We have fun with that. Eli is a combination of his two brothers. Although he has blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin, he has some of the same facial features as Nate but is built more like Cal. He's strong like Nate and agile like Cal. He catches onto things very quickly and seems to understand things that most 3-year-olds would not get. His imagination is wild and he can tear up a room like a bull in a china cabinet. He's obsessed with Super Man. He loves to rough house and wrestle with his daddy, and he shares Calvin's love of all things cowboy. Our biggest struggle with this little guy (other than the huge messes he creates on a daily basis) is that he will not keep his clothes on... he's down to his underwear in less than 10 seconds flat when we arrive home. Just the other night he tried to undress at a restaurant. Eli can drive me crazy and then make me laugh so hard I cry.

The boys are my pride and joy. That's not to say that I am always proud of them or that they always bring me joy. Any full-time mom knows those children do not exist, but there are more proud moments each day and my heart is filled with joy more and more as I watch them grow and learn and develop into precious little boys. There has been a very strong bond that has formed between them and I pray it strengthens with each year. I pray that they will always play together and encourage each other. These days it is more about fighting and aggravating, but then there are those moments when they are working together to build a fort, conquer a video game, fight off the bad guys or create a Lego masterpiece. Nate likes to teach and read to his brothers and Calvin likes to be a caretaker when one of the others is sick. Eli is super loveable and will randomly give one of the others a hug (although he may turn around and punch them in the stomach or hit them over the head for no reason) but he loves his brothers and longs to be around them all the time.

I am so thankful to my Heavenly Father for these three wonderful blessings. I am even more thankful that I have a wonderful husband to co-parent. He's amazing and I admire him as a father as much as a husband. I don't know what the next few years may hold, but I hope I find the time and energy to blog. So many hilarious, unbelievable and even excruciating moments have been lost somewhere deep in my brain. Hopefully they will resurface occasionally so that I can blog them away as my "memory treasures." Until next time, goodnight!

What did you say?

Like most boys between ages 4 and 6, Cal and Nate are full of energy but they're also full of sarcasm. Here are only two of the many, many examples I could include.

First, there's Nate.

Nate had a reading assignment for homework. When I told him it was time to read he began to whine and complain. "Nate, remember your Bible verse. 'Do all things without grumbling or complaining.' Right?" I was trying to gently correct his behavior.

Nate started in again. "But mom, I hate reading. It's taking up all of my playtime. I am not going to read, right now." he demanded. "I don't want to. This is dumb!"

I was really disappointed in his attitude. So realizing a gentle steering was not going to work, I decided to unload the most painful punishment of all. I was preparing the perfect lecture in my head... a lecture that would make him feel so bad about his attitude that he would not only repent but be excited about reading when I was done with him.

I began. "Nate, listen. There are people all over this world who cannot read that book in front of you. They were never taught. There are little kids just like you who cannot read. There are even people my age who cannot read because they've never learned. Maybe they weren't able to go to school or maybe they were taught but they didn't want to practice. Perhaps they had your attitude." I went on for just a little while about all the things you are not able to do if you cannot read.

Nate sat patiently listening as I enlightened him as to the importance of reading. Finally I asked "So what's it going to be, Nate? Are you going to complain about having to read or are you going to be thankful that you can read?"

When I was finished, Nate just looked up at me and said "Sometimes I wish you were a potato head."

"What?" I asked.

"Then I could do this," and Nate, straight-faced and with a steady hand calmly leaned in and pretended to remove my lips.

"Nate, are you saying you wish you could remove my mouth so that I can't talk anymore?"

When he saw that I was not laughing (and luckily he did not notice his father in the kitchen hunched over in a silent laugh) he looked sheepishly up at me and simply shook his head yes.

Shortly after that he had finished reading his book!


Then there's Calvin.

We went out to eat with family the other night. Each person, including the children were given a menu. Calboy was staring intently at his with one finger up his nose.

I whispered softly, "Cal, get your finger out of your nose. Now what do you want to eat?"

"I want a hambugger!" He still has that cute way of mispronouncing words.

"No Cal, you never eat hamburgers when I order them. Think about it some more."

A few minutes later I looked over at Cal, and again he had his finger up his nose. "Calboy, I said stop picking your nose!" I insisted. Then he removed his finger from his nose and stuck it in his mouth. "Calvin!" I was so frustrated. "Cal, do not pick your nose and DO NOT eat your buggers!"

He glanced up at me, and then with just a hint of a smirk but still looking very serious, said "That's why I said I wanted a hambugger."

Trying to hold back a laugh I said, "Calvin, do not say that again. That's gross."

"Then I want that..." and he pointed to the picture of a hamburger on the menu.

I love my sarcastic munchkins!

A Great Day

So as I am rushing to get ready for court this morning when I hear what I think is our garbage disposal. It sounded like it was grinding rocks. It was loud and then nothing. Then I hear Christopher say, "Uh, oh." I peer through the bedroom door with a curious look. Suddenly Chris pops up from behind the counter, "Um, I don't know what that was, but now we have a busted pipe under the sink!" The solution, "Just don't run water on the right side of the sink, and I'll fix it when I get home." Great! Oh, well. I didn't have time to worry about it. I had disgruntled clients and a contested hearing to face, and I was going to be late to them all. I rushed out the door.

I get to court to find that our contested hearing has been reset. Great! The client I was on my way to see was upset because his hearing was reset due to this other matter. Frustration sets in as I scurry down the courthouse steps and across the street. Thoughts are racing through my head. "How am I suppose to explain to my client that the matter that caused me to reset his hearing didn't even happen? And on top of that, opposing counsel has thrown me a curve ball and I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to handle it." At the same time I'm thinking, "I better slow down because I do not want to fall flat on my face again." Upon my arrival to the F.P. Building I am met with a panicked investigator who is working the case and co-counsel's assistant. Then I realize, "Oops, I forgot to update them on the status of the case." Yet I had to appear confident, unfazed and in control, while I met with my client and the five potential witnesses that accompanied him. Why did I choose to wear pink on a day like this? Luckily I had on my brown high heels, in which I could find at least a scintilla of confidence.

After nearly two hours of putting out fires I headed home for lunch. I was starving. When I arrived I found my driveway full of cute but obnoxious children and a distracted mother-in-law, but God love her, she had pizza. Amen. My day was already getting better. I just wanted to escape to my bedroom for a few minutes. As I entered my quiet sanctuary I saw a large wet spot on my carpet. Great! Which one of those munchkins broke the golden rule and came into my bedroom? "Ok, whose been in my room? And what is this on my carpet?" I just heard a bunch of "Not me's" as each child excluded themselves from the accusation. Resigning myself to the fact that I was not going to find the culprit I returned to my room. As I entered the master bath I nearly fell flat on my rear as my right foot slid across the floor. The bathroom floor was flooded. "What the heck?" Great! I checked the toilet, sink and shower but there were no signs of a leak. Where was all this water coming from? Then I heard what sounded like running water. It was in the wall. I began to panic... "I bet our walls are going to be full of water, eventually causing mildew and wrought. We're going to have to replace the carpet and the walls." As I came running out of the bathroom I noticed that the spot on the carpet was much larger than I thought. I had no idea what to do. After my six-year-old son told me how to turn off the water to the house (that story is for another day) I felt relief knowing that my husband was on his way home to save the day.

It was like playing Marco-Polo trying to find the exact spot in the wall where the leak occurred. I had my ear pressed firmly against the wall listening. It was not hard to find because it sounded like Niagra Falls. We had to move our queen bed in order to get to the leak. Unfortunately, Chris cracked the beautiful cherry wood bed frame in the process. I didn't even have to say anything. Chris said it, "Great!" Followed by, "Sorry." Chris cut into the wall to find that one of the connectors came loose. I don't really know what that means, but it was causing quite the mess. Praise God, it was an easy fix except Chris had to remove a chunk of irreplaceable paneling from our wall. There was water everywhere. I had just finished washing our towels the night before, and here we were having to use them up on this mess. Chris vacuumed up approximately six gallons of water from a small 3'X 5' area. Our carpet was soaked. I did the best I could to clean up but I had another meeting to get to at 1:30. I rushed off again.

When I returned home this evening Chris decided it would be a good time to replace a piece of paneling in the boys' room. Because he had to cut out portions of their wall to fit the new paneling their room was covered in saw dust. Great! I have been cleaning up dust from our living room and kitchen from the remodeling we did last month and here it is again. I could not hardly stand to look into the room to see their dust covered beds and toys. I decided I was just going to bathe the kids, put them in bed and resign for the night. I guess my frustration got the best of me because I nearly scrubbed the boys' scalps raw when I was washing their hair. As I was about to get the last child out of the bathtub I heard something snap. Chris had purchased a large sheet of paneling and cut it to size only to have it break into two pieces when he tried to install it. Great! He had forgotten to hang sheetrock behind the paneling for support. Even he was ready to give up on this day. Chris, knowing I was about to blow, cleaned the boys' room and changed the sheets on their beds. Now they and their beds were nice and clean.

My house is filthy; we only have one clean towel; there is still a gaping hole in the wall behind my bed; and the busted pipe under my sink was never fixed, but I got to pray my sweet boys to sleep. And that truly is great!

I don't really see a moral to this story other than pure entertainment. We're exhausted. I'm not even sure how I've been able to muster up the energy to tell this story, but I hope you enjoyed it. I am going to bed now because I have court again in the morning. Great!!

"... Maybe she'll say yes."

I had one of the cutest conversations with my three-year-old son, Calvin. It was hilarious and he did not even know he was being funny. This was our conversation.

Out of the blue Cal says, “Hey, mommy, you know the weirdest thing? I want Addy (Addison) to be my wife,... you know when we grow up.”

Me: “Oh, yeah. Why’s that weird?”

Calboy: “Because she said no. I wanted her to be my wife because I like her... But maybe I can marry her little sister.”

Me: “You mean Emmy Claire?”

Calboy: “No, I mean the girl who wasn’t there.” (Referring to our play date at the Murphrees the other day)

Me: “Oh, you mean Anna Kate.”

Calboy: “Yeah. Anna Kate.” “Yeah, I’ll ask Anna Kate to be my wife. Maybe she will say yes... you know when we grow up! And then I will kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her... I will kiss her to death. Cause that’s what you can do to your wife; you can kiss her. Right mommy?”

Me: “Yes, Calboy, you can kiss your wife one day.”

Cal: “Yeah, I will kiss her. When I grow up Anna Kate will be my wife... when I grow up.”

Me: “Calvin, you are so adorable. I just love you.”

Cal: “I AM NOT ADORBBBLE!”

Me: “Adorable. I said adorable.”

Cal: “I am NOT ADORABLE!”

Me: “Cal, adorable means cute.”

Cal: “I am NOT,... Um, I AM cute.”

Then he choked on air! Oh what a funny child and a funny conversation. I laughed and cried at the same time. It was so sweet. It may not come across so funny and sweet because I’m not good at telling stories, but I hope you enjoyed it.

Kinda like a fish out of water!

We are well into the summer and loving it. Well, I'm loving everything but the HEAT! It is hot. It's hotter than hot; it's boiling. The only thing worse than a really hot day is a hot, humid day. Every women knows that a hot, humid day is generally not going to be a "pretty" day. Sure it may look pretty outside (once the steam clears), but then look in the mirror. Your once styled hair is now flat, frizzy and stuck to your forehead and neck. Your makeup has slid down your face, and sweat beads are sitting on the bridge of your nose. You feel like taking your sweat drenched bra off, but then your shirt would stick to your chest like wet toilet paper, and you feel lines of sweat forming on your back as if someone poured warm salt water down your shirt.

And it's not just me. Somehow, the heat and humidity seems to effect everyone around me. My children tend to move slower (any other day they run and jump in the car, buckle up and off we go). On hot, humid days it takes those same children twenty minutes just to find the car parked in our driveway where it is always parked. It takes them another ten minutes to get into their car seats and buckle. Sweat is then pouring off my body as it takes the air conditioner more time than usual to cool our car. On hot, humid days it takes the cashier at the snow cone stand twice as long to make the snow cones and count our change. By the time they hand us our icy treats we're ready to dump them over our heads rather than eat them. Then when we go to get back in the car it takes me forever to find my keys in the bottom of my purse, which also means the interior of our car has reached 210 degrees once again. By the time we have cooled and our sweat glands have dripped completely dry we have reached our next destination; the gas station.

This brings me to one of life's great mysteries. Everyone knows that gas prices generally peek in the summer months, and in no time the ticker on the gas pump reads $50.00. But even when gas prices are at their highest if it's a hot, humid day the ticker on the gas pump moves at sloth-speed. For some reason it takes twice as long to fill the tank. Luckily the children are sitting comfortably in the cool car, watching a Disney classic, sipping on ice cold Capri Suns. I find myself glaring at the back of their tiny heads in envy, but then every thing goes blurry as SWEAT drips into my eyes and gas spews out onto my new, cute sandals. I'm hot and miserable, but like any woman I raise my armpits to the air vents for a few seconds and press on until it's finally time to go back home where I can relax (which means I throw myself down on the kitchen floor pressing my red, hot cheeks against the cold tiles). At first it kinda freaked the boys out, but now they join me. We lay there like fish out of water; I mean once they've stopped flopping around. You know, when a fish finally looses the energy, their very will to flop, then they just lay still as if in shock. It's like that, only instead of dying I actually feel revived once my body temperature lowers from the triple digits. I have never appreciated a hard, cold surface so much.

I am really enjoying the summer, but the kids seem to enjoy it the most. For our sons summertime means a break from school and early bed times; camp fires for weenie roasts and Smores; catching bugs and frogs; climbing trees; having more sleepovers and movie nights; and of course swimming. The boys like to be outside and you can tell it. They are already ten shades darker than they were a month ago. They spend most of their time swimming or playing in the sprinklers. I think the skin on their fingers and toes will stay shriveled until September! Chris has built them a sandbox, but I'm pretty sure it will turn into a litter box for the neighborhood cats (and the armadillo living under our house). We've planned a camping trip with some friends in July, and we hope to take another family vacation in August before the boys return to school. I've decided that our vacation must be somewhere within a very short driving distance or we will have to fly (can your children fly in the cargo area of the plane if you put them in a kennel?). Perhaps we'll visit Sea World again and enjoy a weekend at the beach. I'm not sure what all we will be able to fit into the summer, but we must decide quickly because the days are coming and going very quickly (well, except the hot, humid ones). :)

What's new for us? Well, besides building a sandbox Chris has taken on a much larger project. We have decided to renovate the living room and kitchen. We are doing it ourselves. That's right, we're taking on the challenge. We can do it because, like any healthy relationship, we are working together as a team. As the Scriptures say we are all members of one body. I am the brains (I come up with the ideas) and Chris is the arms, legs, back, shoulders,... well, let's just say he's everything from the neck down. I plan and Chris executes. I must say that it's worked out quite nicely! I think Chris would blog about how wonderful this experience has been for him as well if his arms were not so tired and weak.

Honestly, I have the best husband! He does it all. He's a great cook, a great carpenter, and great at keeping our yard looking nice. That's not an easy job, especially during the summer. The only thing growing faster than our kids is the grass in our yard! Chris mows and two days later you would never know it. Weeds pop up in the flower beds faster than pimples on a teenager with hormones in hyperdrive, and our plants dry out and wilt unless their watered every day. But somehow we manage; and by that I mean we manage to ignore the wilting plants, ugly weeds, and tall grass! We've had so much going on at home and at work that we take whatever time we may find to just relax. If that means we might loose a few tomatoes that fall 5 feet to their death (because they are hanging upside down from our not-so-beautiful, green, plastic hanging bag my husband affectionately refers to as a "Topsy Turvy"); or if it means one of our flower beds turns into a weed bed, or if it means guests must use a machete to find their way to our front door than so be it. Whatever it takes to relax and leave the world behind for just a few moments!!!

Isn't that what summer time is about; it's not just for the kids is it? I believe that we adults deserve a break from the daily grind. And I like to think that those hot, humid days are the Lord's way of saying to us -- take a break from the heat, go inside, fix yourself a glass of ice water, turn the fan on high, put your feet up, lay your head back, and RELAX. The only thing is that you won't appreciate those moments if you don't work hard enough to build up a good sweat. I joke, but it is analogous to the Psalm that speaks of God as our shelter and in Him we can take refuge. What a wonderful reminder in times when things heat up and the air around you is so thick that you have trouble breathing (kind of like a fish out of water). If during those times you continue on, trusting that the Lord will eventually bring you peace and relief (even though in the moment you feel as if you're choking and about to sweat blood), then you will not just appreciate the refuge, you will treasure it! "Wherever your treasure is your heart will be also." Matthew 6:21.

So Much For Commitments!

I've never been that good at committing myself to the small stuff like blogging, scrap booking, or exercising. I'm trying though. I'm trying to be more consistent in all three of those areas and in life in general. I do realize there are things in my life that are not "small" like staying healthy, being a faithful wife and mother, taking care of our home and finances, and being the best attorney that I can be. Most importantly I recognize my total and complete dependence on the Lord, and despite that acknowledgment I have not been truly committed to the Word. I am not consistent in my study or meditation of the Scriptures, nor am I praying throughout the day like I use to and know to do. I do not live as though I am completely void without Him.

Before I commit myself to the small stuff I must at least make a strong effort to be more committed to my spiritual walk. I must read scripture more often and pray throughout each day. I want Christ to be my first thought each morning. I want my focus on living a God-glorifying life to be intertwined with each thought and each decision I make, and I want to fall asleep singing praises to Him who has seen me through another day! That is what I desire to desire, but I'm not there yet. I was there at one point, but I have allowed life (the small stuff) to get in the way. I have allowed the small stuff to dominate my thoughts, to take first place on my priority lists, and to stir up confusion in my head and heart.

Some of the best advice I have ever received from a friend was to starve the flesh and feed the soul. (Thank you Xandra!) Although I have not completely starved my soul-to-spiritual-death (as that is not possible since I am His), I am somewhat Spiritually famished. Therefore, I am going to leave my blog and spend some time in the Word and on my knees in prayer. I look forward to whatever the Lord my give me to chew on this week.