A Better Circus

Oh, Hey, I Didn't Even See You There

2012-01-02T15:34:00.000-07:00

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10

You know what we had to do today? We had to have a picnic, by our pool, sipping on freshly brewed sun tea and chowing on homemade egg salad sandwiches. We had to do our daily lessons outside, by the water. We had to do this. Why? Because when God provides you with an 80 degree day on January 2, you don't tell Him no. You don't say, "Nicely done, God. Good on ya! But, unfortunately I must sit inside and stare at my computer, tv, walls (if that's your thing) and I will have to catch up on your abundant blessings another day." That's ludicrous, right? The correct answer is yes. It is ludicrous because our only have to, ever, should be saying yes to God. But, how do we say yes to someone we don't recognize and can't hear?

Jilly -- working hard by the pool

Our classroom

Emma--doing her "home" work

There's a line from one of my favorite movies, Sleepless in Seattle, where the father, having just said something inappropriate notices his son standing at the door, listening. He asks his son, "How long have you been standing there?" His son replies, "Forever." I do this with Jesus.Whether it's a glorious feeling that washes over me and I finally take notice of the presence of God and dare to ask, "How long have you been there?" Forever. Or perhaps it's in my darkest moments of shame when, through tears, I whisper, "How long have you been there?" Forever. In the business of my everyday life, as I choose me over Him, my ability to recognize Him diminishes and ultimately fails. I don't see that He is in the sunshine that beckons us to come outside. I don't hear Him in the laughter of my children as they beg me to read one more chapter or play one more game. I don't feel Him in the gentleness of my husband's kiss as he tries desperately to distract me from making dinner. Each moment I choose important instead of more important is a moment when I haven't noticed that it is Jesus calling, madly in love with me, trying to get me to notice Him. I've missed out on the fullness of life He promised and, indeed, on the very fullness of Christ himself.

This year, my only resolution is to look and listen for Jesus, everywhere, that I might say yes to His promptings, yes to Him. Life is full, to the measure, with rich and abundant blessings that I miss all too often. As I recently looked at pictures of our Christmas festivities, guess what I found? He was there in every picture, and to think I almost didn't notice. Just take a look where I found Him.

He was . . .

under the mistletoe.

in her smile.

in her courage.

in their love for one another.

in the warmth of a hug from your sister on a chilly Zoolights trip.

in our blessings.


in my home.

May you have a blessed new year and may you recognize and enjoy the fullness of Christ in the simple pleasures of everyday that He provides.

In His Service,

Homemade Happiness

2011-10-06T17:47:00.000-07:00

To say in a raspy, somewhat muffled voice: The pit of despair...

If you're not a fan of The Princess Bride the aforementioned reference means nothing to you (and there is something seriously wrong with you.) However, it was the above quote I would hear in my head every time I dared to venture into my closet. It was this dark, depressing cave of clothes I never wore, shoes stacked in corners, sweatshirts spilling off the top shelves and poor hubby's ties buried beneath my mountain of belts and scarves. It reminded me of the dark, clearance corner of a department store. Seriously, that place creeps me out and makes me sad. All of these clothes, forgotten, and destined to end up on a sad 75% off rack near the elevator in a Dillard's never to be worn and appreciated. I digress. Anyway, my closet had become such a place and I began to wear only 10% of what I owned because it was just too taxing to try and find anything. Or worse, find it and realize it doesn't fit anymore. Crikey. Something needed to be done, like yesterday.

Thankfully, hubby agreed that drastic measures had to be taken. Unfortunately, his first drastic measure was for me to go through everything and purge. Disgruntled but agreeable, I did so and 5 trash bags later we were left with what actually needed to go back in the closet. After the clean out, here was our starting point:

Here's what I envisioned: bright white, a mini chandelier, shelves to the ceiling lined with beautiful boxes to house all of my folded items. I also wanted an ottoman in the middle with an island for my jewelry. What? A girl can dream. So, why do I have the best husband? Ever? Because he didn't tell me no, he didn't tell me it couldn't be done, he didn't laugh at me. He told me it could be done but we would have to all of the work ourselves and be creative. I love this man. Budget - his department. Creative - just turn me loose, brother.

We started by painting bright white:

We added a row of shelves (and by we I of course mean he):

And then it was my turn to make my boxes and here's what I did:

Start with a cardboard file box - I bought a 10 pack at Staples.

Choose your material - I bought mine on clearance at Hobby Lobby. Get yourself some mod-podge and a brush.

Measure enough material to completely wrap around your box with a couple inches over hang on the top and bottom.

Remove the handle tabs.

Start on a long side of the box and pull the material to the mid-point.

Wipe on liberal amounts of mod-podge. Work quickly and in small areas as it does dry quickly.

Continue to work around the box, smoothing the material and pulling tight as you go.

Always put mod-podge on top of the seams to keep them from fraying.

Mod-podge the bottom by wrapping like you would a present.

Snip the corners at the opening, mod-podge and fold in to the box..


Finished product: a decorative box to hide all of your closet clutter.

I ended up making ten boxes. Each one only took about half an hour

and I spent less than $30 for all ten.

Our finished closet:

The homemade decor also continued with a small project in the living room. Needing something for a big bare wall, and having seen this in a MaryJane's Farm Magazine, and loving books as I do, here is what I made:


It's simply old book pages, folded into cones and secured to a wire floral wreath.

It feels good to finish projects and I do believe I love my closet even more because I had a hand in creating it. I think I'll tackle some more of these projects. Goodness knows I've enough ideas on my Pinterest boards to keep me busy at least until the new season of Doc Martin hits Netflix.

In His Service,

The Gift of Loneliness

2011-07-31T14:15:00.002-07:00

So, as you may have read, my last blog was all about my life changing trip to the Dominican Republic. It was simply amazing, and I mean beautifully simple in every sense. A couple of weeks ago it was Erik's turn. He would be leaving on a two week mission trip to the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. This was a trip we weren't even sure he would be able to make. He had committed to going in January and we began fund raising immediately. However, shortly thereafter we were blessed with his internship at church. This, however, also meant fund raising our income. As such, we mutually agreed to put Africa on hold and focus our efforts on monthly income in order to support those inconvenient habits of meals and electricity to which we had grown accustom. We were blessed yet again when friends of ours informed Erik they would be funding almost his entire trip as they did not want this to be one more thing for him to worry about in our time of transition. Feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and humility we accepted their generous gift and began to prepare, with excitement, for his adventure.

Prior to departure, I must say I was his biggest champion. I encouraged him to go, convinced him his work would be fine without him for 3 weeks, convinced him we would be fine without him for 2 weeks, and I was excited to share with family and friends about his upcoming trip. And then Tuesday, July 5 arrived and suddenly it was time to drop him off at the airport. I knew I would miss him and I think I even knew it would be the hardest separation we had ever endured, but I was doing okay. I didn't cry at the airport despite comforting my daughters through a very tearful goodbye. He hugged me, kissed me and said he would call me from the plane via Skype at 8:30 that night. I held it together until the drive home and then I let it out, crying quietly so my girls wouldn't notice. "Just make it until 8:30," I told myself, then I would hear his voice again.

July 5, as some of you may recall, was the night of the big haboob. No - for those of you non-Arizonans, haboob is not a mistype. A haboob is a huge dust storm that produces a fast moving wall of dust hundreds of feet high. I read on the British Airways website that Erik's flight was actually the very last flight to leave Sky Harbor airport before they grounded all air traffic in and out of Phoenix. Okay, that's enough to make a wife become a little concerned. But, I knew he was most likely fine and after all, he was going to call and say goodnight at 8:30. 8:30 came and went, 9, 9:30, 10...he wasn't going to call. That's okay, I thought. I knew he landed at 5 am our time, would find some WiFi in London, their first stop, and give us a call. 5 am came and went, 6, 7, 8...I held out until 11:30 my time, 7:30 London time before I actually tried calling him, even knowing how expensive it would be if he could answer. I shouldn't have worried about the cost, he never answered. Agony. It may sound dramatic to you, but that is the best word I can think of to describe what I was feeling. Finally, at 12:30 my time, 7 hours after he landed, he called with a friend's phone. He was happy and fine, on his way to Buckingham Palace as a matter of fact. WHAT? I'm worried you're lying in a London ditch unable to reach me and you're on your way to tea with the Queen? I hung up relieved he was okay, angry he had put me through that. This was the beginning of the uglies. What are the uglies? The emotions I didn't want to admit to everyone else I was having while my husband was selflessly serving in the largest slums in the world: anger, jealousy, hurt, depression,loneliness. Shameful? Yes. Was I really feeling these things, really? Truth? Yes.

Thankfully, rather than being able to suppress or ignore them, God made me deal with these emotions. It ended up being a very healing process, albeit very painful. Without being alone, these emotions might not have surfaced and I could have avoided some necessary, serious self examination. In short, without Erik leaving, I would never have had to lean further into God than I ever had before and would never have known the joy of falling further into the Savior's mighty grasp. Loneliness became the blessing that allowed me to have my own life changing experience right here at home.

After a few nights of crying myself to sleep, staring at the computer waiting to hear anything from him and snapping at my beautiful girls, I realized I was letting satan win. I would look at pictures of Erik posted on Facebook and feel relieved to see his smiling face and feel a pain so deep it would take my breath away. Weren’t we supposed to be doing this life together? How could the man I love and gave my heart to, my life to, have this life changing experience, in Africa no less, without me by his side? We were supposed to do this together. It’s an experience we would never share: a first trip to Africa. I was overwhelmed with sadness, and if I’m honest, jealousy.

But, then I understood. Yes, I am supposed to love my husband, and I do. Yes, I am supposed to respect him, and I do, immensely. And yes, I pledged to spend this life on earth with him, and I want to do just that. But, give my life to him? Give my soul to him? Put him in charge of my joy? Nope,I’m sorry, I need to ask for those back. They belong to another man. You see, Erik can’t bring me complete joy and peace no matter the circumstances, but He can. Further, it is so unfair of me to expect my husband to do any of those things. I have loved my husband more than Him, and that’s not fair to either of us. So I'm taking the burden off my amazing husband and giving control of my joy, my life, back to the one person to whom they belong, Jesus Christ.

God gave Erik this time in Africa, and not me. And for awhile that made me mad. But then I realized, He gave me two weeks with my girls. He gave me moments that are only mine. Memories that I won’t have in common with my husband, but will forever change me and be imprinted on my heart. God didn't need to send me to Africa, or the Dominican for that matter, to have a life changing experience. Erik will never look at life the same after being in Kenya for two weeks. But, here’s the thing: I will never look at life the same after being here for two weeks. The life change I needed was right here all along, in my home, in my heart.

So, in the end, I could not be more proud of my husband or more thankful that he made this trip. I also could not be more thankful for my time here, and the lessons I learned. Someday, Erik and I may got to Africa together, but for now, I'm okay with my mission field being right outside my office door. In fact, I need to go as they're calling me to come play.

The Dominican Republic

2011-05-25T15:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, drum roll please.....here it is, the long awaited, highly anticipated (ok, so I take some artistic liberty here) Dominican Republic Blog!

This whole mission trip has been the proverbial whirlwind. I made the decision to go because my best friend, over breakfast before we went Christmas shopping, said, "Hey, you should go to the Dominican with me in March." Most sane people, a group to which I make no claims of membership, would say something akin to, "Sure, maybe. Let me talk to my husband and think about it." My response? "Um, ok."

I think I gave such a cavalier response because I fully expected to come home, announce the idea to my husband and have him summarily shut it down. That way, I wouldn't be able to go but it would be because my husband said no, not because I wasn't willing. I'm pretty sure you still get points in Heaven if you want to do something, but your spouse won't let you. What did my husband say? "Well, if you think God is calling you to do this, who am I to say no?" What? Did you miss the chapter of your Husband Handbook entitled, "Saying No To Your Wife's Crazy Ideas, a.k.a., The Ricky Ricardo Chapter?" So, there it was - I was going to the Dominican Republic.

Well, I had permission to go to the Dominican Republic. There was still the small matter of paying for the trip. About $1500 small matters to be more precise. Blissfully, I do not need to spend much time on this portion of the story except to say we have some pretty amazing friends and family. When I went public with my Dominican agenda, numerous people made cash donations as well as donated items for a garage sale. By February I had raised the money and secured my spot on the 13 person mission team headed for Orphanage Outreach in Jaibon, Dominican Republic on March 12, 2011.

This is the point of the journey where it started to feel more real. Up to this point it really seemed like one of those far fetched dreams you feel safe dreaming because you are sure you will never really have to go through with the actual event. I wanted to go, don't get me wrong. But I had all these reasons I shouldn't: I would miss my anniversary on March 15, my kids would miss school, I wouldn't be able to speak to my family for a week, I had never traveled out of the country without my husband. I ran all of my concerns by my husband and, in true Erik style, he knocked them all down. He smiled at me and said, "We'll have more anniversaries, other kids get a spring break and I can teach them, it will be an exercise is stretching for you to travel without me and what a blessing for you to focus on your work and not worry about calling us to check in." He made me feel better with his words, but as is always the case, I felt calmer the minute he smiled at me.

As the weeks passed, we kicked into high gear to prepare me for this adventure. With each mission meeting, trip to the doctor for shots (ouch!!) and email with updated itinerary, I knew all of the pragmatic details had been seen to by our amazing trip leader (the best friend who asked me to go) and our missions team on staff at church. I began to focus I preparing mentally and spiritually for the trip. I read the handbook from Orphanage Outreach explaining that I would be teaching English to elementary school children and helping out at the orphanage. I must take a moment to say that I found it more than ironic that I would be traveling thousands of miles away from home where I care for my family and am privileged to home school my children, to help do laundry and dishes at an orphanage and teach children. I guess some skills translate effortlessly across foreign borders, namely those of a mother.

I tried to prepare myself for the poverty I would no doubt encounter, the faces of the motherless children I would be living with for a week, the malnourished, the sick, the least of these. I prayed that I would be able to move past my own shock and sorrow to minister to these people and become Jesus fleshed out. In order to be the hands and feet of Christ, I needed to give my heart over to Him and trust that He could heal the hurt I would feel at the desperation I would come fact to face with in this third world country. Little did I know then, my encounters in this beautiful island nation would actually heal the parts of my heart already broken and restore my faith in a way I thought unimaginable.

We arrived in the Dominican republic at 9 pm local time, after traveling about 12 hours. Although exhausted, I couldn't help but come awake as my senses were immediately assaulted by the sights and sounds of the bustling city of Santiago. Aboard the bus that would transport us to the orphanage, about an hour away, the full impact of what I was doing hit me in the face in the form of the wind carrying the smells, first of city nightlife and then of rural farmland; in the form of reggae tone music issuing from the many disco techs and then the sound of motorbikes, piled with 5 or 6 people making their way home along deserted highways flanked by rice fields and plantain trees. This may sound trite or cliche, but there is no other way to say it: I felt alive in a way I had not for a long time.

It was late when we finally arrived at the orphanage in Jaibon so we simply grabbed our bags and made our way into our bunk house. Bunk beds covered in various shades of pastel mosquito netting greeted us. I assumed I would not sleep well on a top bunk, next to an open window in through which rain could come and the sound of the farm animals so nearby. This city girl could not have been more wrong. The mooing and braying lulled me to sleep and the drops of rain upon my head felt refreshing and comforting. I fell asleep effortlessly and was surprisingly happy to wake to the crow of the roosters.

The first morning I dressed in what would be my uniform for the week: an ankle length skirt and an Orphanage Outreach t-shirt. It was a blessing to not have to think about what I was going to where each day. No ironing, no decisions, no "does this make me look fat?" I left my make-up at home and brought a large supplies of elastics for the pony tails I would be sporting each day. I noted this glorious feeling of freedom and decided this would be a change I'd like to make at home.

After a breakfast of hard boiled eggs, fresh pineapple and watermelon and pancakes we were treated to a church service in the small, one-room church on the grounds of the orphanage. We were informed that the pastor was unable to attend so the 20 or so boys that lived at the orphanage would be facilitating the church service. I walked down a dirt road, past farmlands and animals to the pastel green building with a white cross on the front. It was a picture straight out of a novel I hope to write someday. After finding a spot in the crowded room, the service opened with the groundskeeper sharing a bible story. Then the boys played their drums and sang and cheered. I began to cry. I began to cry not the tears of sorrow and pain I had prepared myself for, but tears of joy and gratitude and a new sense of wonder. This room was full to the measure of love and hope. I reflected on the youth services at my church at home. What would our youth do, I wondered, if they were informed there was no pastor to perform a church service? Would they, as these children had done, stay and worship and praise the Lord? If I'm honest, I think they'd leave and go home because, like so many of us, they have become content to let someone else be the directors of their faith and the managers of their relationship with God. Not these boys - they owned it and nothing would hinder their proclamation of love for God.

The remainder of the first day was filled with a tour of the orphanage - a happy place full of bright colors, gardens, stables and an abundance of smiles. It certainly was not the dismal Little Orphan Annie orphanage I had imagined. These boys were loved, well cared for and most of all, happy. We also did some lesson planning as the following day we would be leaving the orphanage grounds to go into the local schools to teach English. I was excited and scared.

After another breakfast of hard boiled eggs and fruit, we boarded a bus and headed to an elementary school with mostly Haitian refugees. As the bus pulled up outside the gates the cries of the children on the other side shouting "Americanos! Americanos!" welcomed us as warmly as hugs and kisses. They were so excited we were there and even more excited to see that we brought basketballs and books - luxuries to which they don't normally have access. We split into teams of 4 and taught kindergarten through 8th grade. My team began with a small 8th grade class that would win my heart and become my favorite of the week. So sweet, so smart and so full of potential. They are not lacking ambition, simply opportunity. We taught the parts of the body in English with rousing renditions of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and of course, "The Hokey Pokey." Following lunch and an afternoon siesta back at the orphanage, a custom I adapted to quite easily, we returned to the school to teach second grade. Crazy town. There is no other way to describe our first encounter with these younger students. They too were sweet and eager, but full of oh so much more energy and, uh, sass. By the end of the week we had won them over with crayons and coloring pictures, but they made us work for every moment of quiet and attention they gave us.

The first day, and again on our subsequent visits to the school, we also had the chance to go into a local neighborhood and interact with members of the community. It is a shock to see the living conditions, mere shacks with sheets for doors, and the abject poverty - babies in wash tubs on a dirt road, small children with enlarged bellies from malnutrition and many family members living in small one room quarters. But other aspects of this life were hard to miss too: the joy of the children at having their picture taken, shouting "photo, photo" and changing into their best clothes; men gathered in the middle of the make-shift village under the shade of a tree to play dominoes; every face I made contact with offered me an "Hola!" and a genuine smile; sharing a Cola Real (similar to bottled Coke) with locals in the small general store. In America, we are so secluded and private. We come home from work, shut our garage, stay in our walled backyard and seek to escape the outside world. Here, in this vibrant landscape, evenings are for community, for gathering, for doing life together and sharing whatever you have whether a coke, a story, a laugh or I would venture, even a cry.

One of my favorite memories of the Dominican was the day school was canceled because the teachers went on strike to protest the loss of health care coverage. Occurrences like this are common in the Dominican, we also experienced a bus strike while we were there. We felt disappointed and let down that we would not be permitted to teach on what we knew would be our final day in the schools. "Don't worry," Tom, the director of Orphanage Outreach, assured us, "Tomorrow I have something great planned." Great? What could be greater than being with the children in the school and saying goodbye to our new friends in the community? They have a saying in the Dominican Republic: Entonces. It's used to convey a whatever mentality. So, "Entonces" we said. But, "Not fair," we felt. Again, I was wrong. Common theme for me, eh? Entonces...

We discovered that we would get to take the 20 boys from the Jaibon orphanage to the beach. Pretty cool, right? It gets better. These boys had not been off the orphanage property in nearly 10 months. Wow, right? It gets better. My 13 person mission team got to ride with the boys and their caretaker, La Tia, to the beach. I got to witness little boys riding a bus, seeing the sights of a life outside their gates, singing, laughing, stopping at roadside stands for fruit for the first time in ten months. I began to see life different because I got to see it for what felt like the first time through the lenses of these awe struck boys. It was an honor. As Manuel, my eight-year-old buddy, slept on my lap on the way too and from the beach, I was overcome with gratitude. I was thankful not just for what I was experiencing here, but for the life I had been blessed with at home. I wanted to see my own life new, I wanted to experience things for the first time, I wanted to be filled with wonder.

Our time in the Dominican was coming to a close, but the impact this trip would have on my life was just beginning. I experienced so much more than I can share in this already too long account of my adventure. I haven't even mentioned the puppies that were born while I was there, the amazing missionaries I met and served with, the nightly herding of the animals, the multiple cans of bug spray or how every meal consisted of rice, beans and hard boiled eggs. I neglected to mention Aliyah, the young Haitian girl that I think still has a piece of my heart or the nightly flashlight lit worship sessions with a Younglife group in that small church that brought me to tears.

I could probably right a book about my experiences in the Dominican Republic; maybe I will someday. But, my hope is, for now you have some small idea of how amazing this very big trip I made was. I am forever changed. I cannot wait to go back, but until I do, I pray the impact of the Dominican on my life is evident in me, my actions and my relationship with Christ.

Entonces...

Coming Soon: Dominican Republic Part II: The Pictures

Faith Like Yoga

2011-04-26T15:53:00.000-07:00

I’m not a pampered woman by any means. I gave that up with God’s help when the law firm my husband worked for downsized to nothing. Well, not nothing – counting him they still had two employees. Admittedly, before this I was, well, spoiled. Vacations, Kate Spade and Jimmy Choo were my normal. It was not healthy and I am truly thankful that God cured us of this worldly sickness, moved us back to the neighborhood where my husband grew up and gave us a lot less money and a lot more life. I had been living in this new existence quite comfortably for 2.5 years. Comfortable – not a place God usually lets you stay for very long. It wasn’t that I didn’t still appreciate some finer things. I had just learned to get them cheaper, less often and in smaller quantities. I gave up my brand new Jeep for a ten tear old minivan. I gave up Kate Spade for a more sensible cross-body bag from REI and my Jimmy Choos usually stay in their box while I rock my Target Converse or AE flipflops bought on sale for $8.00. But, honestly, I’m cool with that. I spend everyday with my two kiddos that I get to homeschool and my husband who works from home.

If this were a cartoon of my life you’d be hearing the proverbial tire screeching right now signaling that some really good thing had just come to an abrupt halt. Just when comfortable had settled into my home again, found a chair at my dinner table and soothed me to bed each night, my husband came home and kicked him out. My husband came home, announced that he would be quitting his job, and working for the church. This was great news – he had wanted to be in ministry for over a year, we’d been praying for this, this was exactly what we had asked for. Well, not exactly. But then again, answered prayers never look just the way you thought they would, do they? Our answer came in the form of an unpaid internship in youth ministry at our church. Foodonthetable say what? We will be fundraising our entire year’s salary. I love giving – help, money, food, time, clothes, just about anything. I am a giver. But, the idea of having to ask people for money and support, for an entire year because we chose to leave a paying job for an unpaid, no benefit job? This thought literally made me feel sick to my stomach. You know how people always say God is stretching you? Well, if faith were like yoga, we were getting ready for straight legs side crow. Not sure what that is? OUCH will suffice as a translation.

So begins our year of stretching: stretching a dollar, stretching our faith, stretching our forgiveness and understanding of one another, stretching our comfort zones, stretching our children. We will have to be more flexible in every area of our life this year – it is no longer a luxury but a necessity. Funny, I have been searching for so long for the perfect topic to stretch my writing muscles. There you go – another prayer answered.

Funny, it’s not how I thought it would look.

PS Many of you have asked: Dominican blog coming soon...promise. Just need time to do it justice. To write a blog about a life changing mission trip in an afternoon is just not possible for this girl.

What Was I Thinking?

2011-03-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

I took the week after my return from the Dominican Republic off. I mean, off off....off. Seriously off. I took 2.5 hour naps, met girlfriends for breakfast, lunch and coffee. I watched more than a few episodes of Top Gear, read in the rain (aahhh) and generally tried to do as little as possible.

(Side note: I will publish an at length account of my ah-mazing time in the Dominican...prob this weekend when I am home alone (jumping up and down here) while kiddos and DH go camping.)

Anyway, back to my vacation from my vacation. I gave myself permission to be so lazy on the condition that I did in fact need to become more disciplined and would promptly do so next (this) week. And, I stuck to it - I even did lesson planning - yuck - and got up early - double yuck - to hike on Monday. The hike felt good, I was off to an admirable start and we dove in...head first. Remember what your mom used to tell you about diving - feet first, first time. Well, we had the metaphorical equivalent of banging our heads on rocks as we attempted to do school in a more structured, orderly fashion. (Triple yuck with a moldy cherry on top.)

At the end of today, after spending time in grammar books and doing a math test and even writing a history report, I'm left asking myself: What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn't thinking, at least not about anything that makes sense for my family. If I was thinking I would've remembered we don't do schedules. I would have embraced slower days instead of seeing them as a precursor to making empty promises to myself. I would have used my extra time last week to read with the kiddos and do crafts. I would have started my week decorating for Easter: Hello Pastels, where have you been all winter? I would have baked a cake with the kiddos...wait, hubby did bake a cake with the kiddos. Ok, that part went well. But, I would have relaxed and known at the end of it all - at the end of the week, at the end of the school year, at the end of it all, what needed to get done would be done, and what could wait, waited.

Funny, too, that I came home from the Dominican stressed about schedule when, you know what I worried about there? Nothing, nada, zilch, zero. For 8 glorious days not a single thing woke me in the middle of the night or sent me into a panic. And so, that's what I want to bring home. Not a renewed sense of 'have to', but a renewed sense of gratitude for what I get to do, everyday. So, tomorrow, we'll be reading, doing crafts and maybe a math problem, but only if we feel like it. In fact, I plan on implementing one more custom from the Dominican- the siesta. After lunch, everyday, the whole country shuts down - slows down - for a rest. This is perhaps the most beautiful custom I could imagine. So, it seems that it is indeed siesta time around here. I better get to it...

In His Service

Am I Sold Out Or Have I bought In?

2011-03-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

Conformed or transformed? This was the opening question in one of my email devotions the other morning. Given that the girls and I were going to memorize Romans 12:2 together this seemed all to appropriate. One more piece of evidence against the existence of coincidences.

So, I posed that question to my eight and ten year old daughters. Admittedly, I thought I would throw it out there and then have to further explain what it means to conform to the world. Wrong. I was blown away when Jilly, my eight year old said, "For me it's Barbie.com. Whenever I go on there all of a sudden the Barbies you and daddy bought me aren't good enough and I want new ones. And, I want to look like them." Oh no. Emma added, "AmericanGirl.com. I go right to the shopping page and I want, want, want." I was at once alarmed at how the world had seeped through the cracks in our locked doors and impressed with their ability to identify their vulnerabilities. We began to pray and discuss strategies for dealing with these temptations. And then it happened, they hit me square between the eyes: Mommy, how do you conform to the world?

I thought for a moment and God blessed me with a light bulb moment. Without hesitation these words came from my mouth: "Everyday I put make-up on and straighten my hair, I feel like I am conforming to worldly standards of beauty and saying to God that what He created could use a little improvement." My ten year old brought me to tears when she recited Psalm 139:14 to me word for word: "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." My girls know this verse because I have recited it to them that they might know how amazing they are, just the way they are, simply because they are children of God. But, every morning as they watched me blow out and straighten my naturally wavy hair and put on make-up, what I was saying to them was at best that it wasn't true for me and at worst that it was a complete lie.

I'm not saying that make-up is evil or bad. No object is evil or bad - but certainly our attitudes toward them can become so. For me, the lessons I was imparting on my daughters and the fact that my confidence now came from a bottle of foundation instead of the firm foundation of Christ, was enough for me to take notice. So we, my girls and I, made an agreement. They would give up their websites, and I would give up my hair straightener and make-up. Erik even got on board and has blocked websites he used to peruse for cars and trucks. We've agreed to do it for thirty days, although Jilly threw down when she said she could go a year without Barbie. My hope is though, that we will discover not only do we not need these things in our life, we don't want them anymore.

You are God, You are God, of all else we're letting go.

I leave on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic in 10 days. I will be spending time in an orphanage with some of the most beautiful creatures on God's earth. Beautiful, simply because the are created by the Creator. Certainly I want to go and make an impact for God's kingdom and to be a faithful servant. But my prayer is that, as I know I will be impacted too, perhaps I will come home knowing that I am beautiful, simply because...and my daughters will know....and their daughters will know.....Like I said, impacting God's kingdom.

S.O.S.

2011-02-02T17:01:00.001-07:00

I am laughing out loud right now - seriously. Not just like when you type LOL in a text but you're not really. No, I am literally LOL. Why you may ask (or you may not?) I started a blog here about feeling "drab" because I read something I wrote months ago about feeling and looking schleppy and I thought it was clever and funny. Perfect, I thought. I can just copy,paste add a few minor modifications and I will have another blog post. Ha, two in a week. That's great. So, as I'm making my minor changes so the post will appear as though I just thought this up between school and making dinner today, my computer goes crazy. F's just start appearing on the page and it starts making this horrible humming noise. All I can do is exit without saving. Did I stop and take notice here? No, of course not. I went right back to my word doc, tried to copy again and the same thing happened. This is when I took pause.

To have published that post would have been inauthentic. I am, in fact, not feeling drab (no matter how schleppy I look today.) I did not, another point of fact, just write that in some sudden burst of clever inspiration. I am struck here by a truth: If anything, shouldn't we strive to be authentic? To be anything less would be a lie. So, thank you God for stopping me from being disingenuous and prompting me to be honest.

I read Matthew 21 a few days ago and it left me pondering a few things. You know the story: Jesus enters the temple and rebukes them for turning a house of prayer into a market place and he throws them out. This resonated with me profoundly. As a commentary on consumerism, I am guilty of turning the temple into a marketplace. Here's what I mean: I should have a healthy active spiritual life , one that is demonstrated in the temple God gave me, namely my body. That is, my mind should be actively engaged in prayer, in conversations with God. My lips should be proclaiming the gospel and praising my heavenly father. My ears should be filters for what is good and pleasing so that I can hear and meditate on those things that are pure, noble, and just. My body should be used for service to the glory of my Father. But, if I am in fact worshipping at the feet of "more", I have pushed God out of my temple and it has become just another (market)place for stuff.

What sort of stuff? The stuff that keeps me up night, a.k.a. worry. Was I good mom today? Do my kids love Jesus? Do my babies know they are loved? Did I love and respect my husband the way he deserves or did I, as I often do, nag at him and complain about tiny, significant details? The thing that often worries me most is that I spent too much time thinking about me and my life instead of keeping my focus on Jesus and serving others. Which, when analyzed is certifiable because I'm worrying about me worrying about me too much...are you tracking 'cause I know my head hurts...

But, there's other stuff too, namely Shiny Object Syndrome (S.O.S.) We are inundated with what I recently heard termed "hyper-reality." This is the reality created on tv, in reality-television, on commercials, in magazines. It is what I now think of as the air-brushed version of reality. It tries to paint a picture of what life could be like if only....if only I had the right car, the right house, the right body, the right job, the right fill in the blank. Reality isn't good enough for us anymore, we want a version of it that is a little more perfect and in fact, isn't real or attainable at all. But here's the kicker: just as soon as we settle on the version of reality we think we want and we make that our goal and create "dream boards" to stare back at us everyday as reminders that what we have right now isn't at all satisfying, another, better, shinier version of reality is proposed and that becomes our new obsession. This is the stuff that crowds our temple, ideas we try to sell ourselves, that ends up taking up to much real estate in our minds and leaves no room for Christ.

So, I'm sending up my S.O.S. to Jesus. I'm laying it in the shadow of the cross and leaving it there because I know He is the only one that can truly satisfy and save. Matthew 6:33 is my favorite verse, my life verse. But if I'm honest, I've not been applying it to my life. So, here is my challenge: to really focus on His kingdom and His righteousness and know that all these things shall be added unto me as well. I need not worry, I need not lust after a better version of me or my life. He has heard my S.O.S., I am rescued and that, my friend, is the best of all realities.

In His Service,

The Girl Is Crafty

2011-01-10T15:51:00.000-07:00

Something strange is going on around here....The other morning I wore diamond earrings when I walked the dog (ok, ok, faux diamonds, but still). I put cucumbers in my water this afternoon - a simple treat, but it feels so luxurious. I painted my toes red and I'm preparing to order seeds for my garden. To top it off, on a whim, I turned one of hubby's old button up shirts into a super cute apron. But then again, isn't that how all good crafts should start: with whimsy? It seems whimsy is in the air around here and it's intoxicating. In fact, hubby even noted this afternoon, "You seem cheerful." What a perfectly delightful compliment. I feel cheer-full and it's amazing.

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions as I think change happens all the time and should begin whenever the urge strikes. But, I have to say my urge for change coincided with 1-1-11 this year and I am eager to embrace it and follow where it leads. It's a fire in my belly, a God nudge, calling me to make everyday special and indulge my creative crazies. So, no more waiting for holidays to bring out the special dishes or asking, "Is that too much glitter?" I mean, could there be a more perfect time to get creative? It's almost Valentine's Day: hearts, candies and ribbons, oh my. I can almost taste the conversation hearts already and I can hardly stop myself from hanging a big, pink and red glittery heart on my front door with the word "Love" emblazoned in roses... Is that too much? Um, no....

We've taken this delicious approach with school this semester too. We've put away our boring text books for a bit and we're shaking it up. We read, read, read and then we draw and color and then we garden and then we read again and then we get a little crafty and then we read some more. The girls are having so much fun and are learning a ton. I love being snuggled up on the couch with some coffee and hot chocolate and knowing that yes, they are getting an education. I can't imagine sending them off for seven hours a day to let someone else have all that fun with my kiddos. Right now we are reading Harry Potter V, Anne of Green Gables and Three Cups of Tea together. Jilly is reading Mouse & The Motorcycle and King Arthur, while Emma enjoys the Black Stallion and The Biography of Eli Whitney (fascinating btw.) It's a delightful way to learn and an even more delightful way to teach.

So, tomorrow I think I'll put on a little red lipstick, make heart shaped pancakes for breakfast and celebrate the holiday. Which one? Not sure yet, but I'll find one and be sure to give it proper attention. Everyday is a gift from God. Here's to unwrapping it!

In His Service

Fall Fun

2010-11-03T13:50:00.000-07:00

This year, I am happy to report, that our fall days have been the proverbial big pile of freshly raked leaves and we have been indeed jumping in and having a fabulous time. Although we've been busy, I am so thankful as I look at my exhausted babies asleep in the van going from one event to the next that we are making some pretty grand memories. I love everything about fall. I love wandering the school supply aisles at Walmart, I love pumpkin lattes at Starbucks, I love candy corn and I love almost feeling like I could wear a sweater.

My husband and I very often speak in movie quotes to each other, and this is one of our faves. In the spirit of autumn, I offer this sentiment to you as well:

Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms. (You've Got Mail)

Fall mornings mean different things to different people, I know. For instance, to Erik it means waking early to take a brisk bike ride with his friends on a Saturday morning. For me, it means making doughnuts and coveting the homes on This Old House in my PJ's. To each his own....

This year we also roasted our own pumpkins to make pumpkin puree. Let me tell you, two small pie pumpkins make a pretty massive amount of puree. For me, this itch has been satisfied and I can check off 'make pumpkin puree' from my life list and go back to Libby's puree in a can. We were able to make two pumpkin pies and pumpkin whoopie pies which are, if I do say so myself, de-lish. Statistics say most Americans gain 7-10 pounds in the holiday season. We're over achievers, we're going to see if we can top that record.

To aid in our weight gain efforts we went trick-or-treating and brought home quite the haul in our homemade trick or treat bags. We had a match fit pair this year - a hippie and a sailor. They walked around the neighborhood protesting each other....totally kidding. We had an awesome time and even met some of our neighbors who are looking for a church. Yes, Halloween can be an outreach opportunity.

Our season also included a Fall Fest at the park and an old-fashioned pumpkin carving party complete with apple bobbing. These events are proof it doesn't take fancy gadgets, expensive bounce houses or lots of money to have some good clean fun. And, can I just say, I love my girls' affinity for simplicity? When we arrived at the carving party there were all sorts of intricate patterns for pumpkin carving. My kids would have none of it and stuck with triangles and toothy grins, despite some pretty heavy pressure to go all fancy-schmancy. I am beyond thrilled that they still love an old school jack-o-lantern. And, although their stubborness can make me want to pull out my hair some days, I so admire their tenacity and their strong sense of self. I marvel at them everyday.

So that just about wraps up fall for us. My sister's wedding is this month and I can't think of better way to celebrate my favorite season than by celebrating love. And, of course, Thanksgiving looms ahead. But, as I'm not hosting this year, I'm simply looking forward to the parade and food I didn't prepare. Does anyone else still watch the parade? Erik is convinced I'm the only one left who insists on watching it in its entirety. I'm such a sucker for a good parade.

In His Service -

These Pants Don't Fit

2010-10-22T17:07:00.001-07:00

I have been homeschooling for almost four years now and I've just begun to figure some things out. The biggest discovery I've made just this week is that trying to homeschool the way a blog or a website or a book or even a friend tells you to is like trying to wear the wrong size pants. I wish I could wear jeans two sizes smaller than I do and in theory, I would look fabulous in them. But, the harder I try to fit into them the more it hurts and I end up feeling frustrated and like I failed. Not to mention that I look ridiculous.

This is true of my past approach to home schooling. I don't blame the books or blogs, I take full responsibility. I am a Shiny Object Homeschooler. I commit to one curriculum and I love it and hug it and name it George, until....Oooh, that's pretty. I see another curriculum that looks even better and I convince myself that my kids will surely miss out if I don't immediately incorporate it into our classroom, until....Ooooh, that's pretty...You get the idea.

I'm done with that. I didn't start homeschooling so that someone else could tell me what to do. Quite the opposite. I love homeschooling because I get to choose, be flexible, take the time I want, keep what works, can what doesn't, take a day off to lounge in our PJ's and watch movies and eat popcorn and call it extracurricular. I love that! Why would I let someone tell me I was wrong or try to fit my totally unique, awesome kids into their one size fits all education?

So, I'm trying to be more aware of what works for us and relax and enjoy these precious years. I also plan to share more of what we discover works for us in the hopes it might help someone else too. I felt so lost when I first started and wished there had been more realistic, practical tips. But, please, if you try one of our methods and it doesn't work for you, CAN IT - without guilt or hesitation.

Here are a couple of things that work for us:

Our filing trays - one for each girl. Oh, and that's my pocket Peyton - a birthday present.

5 in 5

5 in 5 is our filing method. We all hate to file and so we don't. We are organized to the point that each child has their own tray to put all their filing in for a later time. But, we began to notice that later time never came. So, we always have a few minutes each day where one child is waiting to start a lesson while the other finishes. During this time now, the waiting child will grab 5 things from their cubby and file what they can in 5 minutes. This is working beautifully for us: our filing doesn't pile up, we don't stop between every subject to file and no one complains because it's only 5 things and 5 minutes.

Our folders - organized by subject and color.

Reading After Lunch

We try to get all of our school done in the morning before we break for lunch. This is especially true for my youngest child as once she stops, she's done. But, if I'm honest, this doesn't usually happen. There are inevitably one or two things we don't get to and must finish in the afternoon. However, if I try to take my children from the freedom of lunch right back into the classroom to go back at it, we all get frustrated. So, each day after lunch they get their pillows or paper and art supplies and they relax or draw while I read one chapter from each of the two books we read together. This takes us about 30-40 minutes and afterward they are calm and happy and ready to finish the day. This one change to our schedule, implemented after my youngest gave up naps, has made a huge impact on all of our sanity. We're not sane mind you, but we're not getting crazier anymore.

Our current after lunch reading. We're finishing the Laura series and although we've

read Harry Potter before, we have so much fun reading it as a family we're going through the

series again.

Autumn Perspective

2010-10-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

I've been tormenting myself every morning by watching the weather reports on the Today show and coveting the fall weather in other parts of the country. The worst part comes when Al Roker puts up the map colored in red, orange and yellow to show the peak of fall foliage so we can plan our trips to see the colors change. Then, I look at my neck of the woods and it's still mostly that awful brown color which translates to: I'm sorry, you need actual trees to see the tree leaves change color. But that's okay (I tell myself) one quick 2 hour drive north and I can have fall. Now, if I could just find a way to box it up and spread a little around here....

As is our norm, we have tried our best to create fall in our home. The pumpkins are out, the scarecrows hung up and the leaves spread around. Admittedly its a little disappointing to look past the vibrant reds and golds of our faux fall to see my children swimming, still, in stinkin' October... But I know come January and 65 degree temps and sunny days, I will hear my husband say, "This is why we live here." And, I will have to admit that he's right, as he is almost always.

Despite the fact that my complaints seemed to have peaked with the fall foliage, this fall has been full of reminders of how good our God is and how abundantly He blesses us. This was no more clear to us than on September 26, 2010 when Erik, Emma and I had the honor of baptizing Jilly. And, if I'm honest, although Erik and I were in the baptistery too, it was overwhelming to see my daughter baptize her sister. It was a glorious day shared with friends and family. The memories of this once in a lifetime event are forever etched in my mind and I am truly thankful for each and every one of them.

The family we were honored to build a house for - Miguel, Cynthia and Anna.
Our fall continued with a trip to Rocky Point, Mexico. We went on a mission trip with the high school ministry to build houses in the barrios with an amazing group called One Mission. This was a trip Erik and I decided not to go on earlier in the summer. We decided that we could not afford the trip with the registration fees and the passport I would need. We decided that we would, instead, spend that weekend as we had planned at a Jack Johnson concert. The tickets were a birthday present from Erik and the concert is something we have always wanted to do. End of story, our minds were made up. We had decided and planned and were totally comfortable with our choice. Right....Well, you can see how much deciding we did and you are probably laughing about as much as God did during all of this planning. I went to lunch with a friend who shall remain nameless, and Kristina Harbour challenged me to rethink my decision and pray about the trip. Pray? Ask God what He wanted me to do? Hmmm, novel concepts and so crazy they might just work. So, we did. We talked and prayed and prayed and talked. I would like to say at this moment the sun broke through the clouds, we had our ah ha moment and realized we should go to Mexico. But, no. We decided we were not going to be guilted into going to Mexico. I'll pause here while you finish laughing....OK? Then, we went to church. The entire sermon was about getting out of your comfort zone and into the faith zone, taking risks, obeying God..really? Are You serious right now? By the end of the sermon Erik was squeezing my hand so hard I knew we were going to Mexico. But, just in case we needed confirmation, as we stood up to leave, the music they played on the speakers? You guessed it: Jack Johnson. Sometimes God whispers, and sometimes He shouts. We heard Him loud and clear.

Sweet Anna

And? Mexico was amazing and totally worth giving up my Jack Johnson tickets. We spent three days with awesome high school students building houses for really amazing families. The bonds formed between those of us in the ministry, the fellowship with the families, serving God - all of this was great. But none of it compared to what Emma said as we pulled into our driveway after the trip - exhausted, dirty, beat....She said, "Oh my gosh. Our house is like a mansion." Perspective was perhaps God's biggest blessing of that weekend.

Perspective is something I am lacking when I sit in my air conditioned home and complain about the heat. Perspective is what I lack when I stare at a pantry full of food and lament that we have nothing to eat. Perspective is missing when I think money is tight simply because I cannot afford to go to a museum this week. I have never been starving or homeless. I do not know what it is to want for anything. I gained perspective. I'm not sure I could have walked away from a concert with a gift like that.

Truth

2010-09-22T15:39:00.000-07:00

Taking a break from the usual family update to share whats on my heart. Actually, this was what was on my heart a couple months ago. I wrote it and chickened out from sharing it. In response to a conviction to not operate from a place of fear, here goes...

Ok, the book writing thing: The bad news is I haven’t given it much attention in awhile. The good news is I had a total breakdown with dear hubby as I read what I had written so far and lamented the fact that I had quit working on this project. He did what any good husband should do; he scolded me. I needed a good verbal spanking quite frankly. I was scared to that point to call this what it is and even more scared to finish it. I said out loud to my husband and my children: I am an author and I am going to finish my book. It was remarkable. We all cried and hugged it out and then my sweet little seven-year-old looked up into my eyes with her big beautiful hazel eyes and said through a flood of tears, “I feel like you love me less everyday.” What the….? Warm fuzzies gone, mother’s guilt here. Ah, the universe is just as it should be.

Seriously, we got past that; I told her I love her more today than yesterday but not as much as tomorrow. Yes, I know it’s a totally cheese ball seventies song but the kid doesn’t know that and it solved my problem. Well, it solved my problem until she quotes me to her pastor this Sunday…oh well, I’ll deal with it later.

So now I have a level of accountability in place. I’m back at it, ready to hear the big messages from God about who I am supposed to be. I went hiking this morning and it was amazing. I was at peace and the wind was blowing. It’s July in Arizona, this may very well qualify as a miracle. You know the wisdom received today? Do more alone. Short, but not sweet. This didn’t feel like a little message to me at all, no this was one of my first doozies. I never do anything alone except grocery shop and hike. Well, that’s not exactly true either. When ever possible I coax my husband into shopping with me and my pseudo adopted teen daughter into hiking with me. What is my fear of being alone? Where did that come from?

I’m afraid to make the wrong decision. There I go operating out of fear again. I need to start making decisions all on my own without the input or advice of anyone. Not the big stuff mind you. I understand that major life decisions (MLDs) should be made with dear hubby and possibly with the advice of other Godly people. But I’m not talking about the MLDs. It’s the little stuff that should really be up to me that I need to go it alone on – yeah, that stuff paralyzes me. You know what else? I never take credit for my own ideas – ever. If I am talking to a friend and I have something clever to say, I always give credit to my husband or even lie and say I read it or heard it somewhere. That is certifiable crazy behavior. Am I seriously afraid that if I take credit for something my friend will either think that a) I’m a snob, or b) I am lying and heard my little nugget from someone really qualified, a.k.a. Beth Moore? Truth? Yes.

I also realized I don’t like rules, more specifically, directions. Now there are some directions and rules that are good and necessary, i.e. the 10 Commandments, or driving laws for instance. But other rules and directions are a big waste of time. I like to sew. I hate, with as much passion as one can hate inanimate objects, patterns. I loathe them. Should that stop me from doing something I really like? Um, no. Hey look at that, all this time I thought I was a goody-two-shoes and the truth is I am a rebel. I am a rule breaker. Watch out expensive fabric everywhere, here I come with scissors and no directions. This feels good, dangerous, but good.

I have been living my life either on pause or with the mute button permanently engaged. Scary as it is, I’m done with that. I want to dance in the freedom that Jesus gave me and I want to live out loud without concern for what others think of me. I have not been true to myself for the last almost 33 years. I cannot be true to God if I am not true to myself.

Okay, So We Got a Little Campy This Summer

2010-07-26T14:21:00.000-07:00

Summer time and the livin's NOT easy. Whoever wrote that song, (Gershwin, right?) did not live in Phoenix in July. Seriously, everything feels harder to do when it's 115 degrees outside. Even mustering the motivation to get up and do something feels more difficult. I know I lamented about this last year as well, but it just wouldn't be summer if I didn't complain a little bit (ok a lot) about the heat. Although, sad to say, it has rubbed off on Jilly who, when I said "it's a little toasty," on our way into church last weekend said, emphatically, "No, no its not. It is a lot toasty, it is stinkin' hot." Amen sista.

Perhaps this year home feels hotter because I had the opportunity to escape the heat not once, but twice in June. First, was a trip to Prescott to attend UCYC (United Christian Youth Camp) with Emma. As some of you may recall, I did not attend last year and spent the week crying on her bed missing her terribly. So off we went together this year where we spent at least one day crying together missing Daddy and Jilly. At least our misery had company. But, to call the week misery would not be fair. We did indeed have a fantastic time and our group of girls, 7 in all, got on brilliantly. We zip lined, shot paintball guns, did archery, climbed a rock wall and played kickball. But perhaps the scariest moment we had to overcome was playing pool games in a thunderstorm and sixty degree weather. Despite a slight chill on entry, we sucked it up and ended up even enjoying that part! Spending time with Emma, you can't help but make some pretty grand memories. She does everything, even if she's done it a thousand times, like its the first time ever and sees it with these incredible brand new eyes. I envy that and I pray she never loses that awe and wonder for life. Emma and I had so much fun, we convinced Erik to go next year, with Jilly, and make UCYC a family event.

My UCYC girls on Wacky Wednesday.

So, home from Prescott for 5 days and then Erik & I were off to CIY (Christ in Youth) in Durango, CO with our teen ministry. 700 teenagers + 70 coaches + 13 buses + 6 days = not enough bathrooms. No seriously, it added up to an amazing week and a ton of fun. The hardest part was leaving Emma and Jilly, despite knowing they were in great hands (thanks, mommy!) The best part was my girls - my students. God is soooo good. I have the most awesome group of students and the best part is I get to do life with them here at home. I am honored, truly, to have the privilege to be a part of a small group bible study with these girls each week, to hang out with them, to laugh and to cry and to witness the amazing transformations Christ is making in them and through them. Upon return, our group grew in size as a few more girls who were unable to attend camp joined our group here at home and they are equally terrific. I am so excited to see what God is going to do this year in the lives of our students and humbled and honored that I get to be a small part if it all.

God is sneaky like that, isn't He? Just when your life feels small and you've lost your purpose, He brings you through these life changing experiences that remind you that you may be small, but you have a vital role in His big picture.

Jilly at the cabin for Mother's Day.
She is an illustration of being small and big at the same time. A small little girl, with a huge personality and the ambition to match. She just makes me smile, she is brilliant. I love, love, love that she is mine for a little while.

Alright, I'm going to seek some accountability here too, if you don't mind. Wow, I've never done this quite so publicly before. Have I ever even asked for any accountability before? Hmmm, there's another blog....Okay, as most of you by now know, I love to write. It's sort of a passionate hobby of mine. What you may not know is that I started a book about a year ago, and promptly convinced myself no one would ever want to read it, so I quit. I quit doing something I love because I thought someone wouldn't like it. That is tragically sad I think. So, I've decided to finish my book. And maybe no one will want to read it, but I'm okay with that. I want to finish it because I love to do it and I really feel like God has asked me to see this through. So, if you think about it, ask me how that's going from time to time. Knowing You might ask, motivates me to be able to say that I'm hard at work on it, chipping away everyday. Thanks.

In His Service

Signs of Life

2010-03-27T11:20:00.001-07:00

Confession: I've been watching my life again lately. I've been a total spectator in the stands and not even the kind that is really into the game. I think I've been on an extended half-time, still eating popcorn and waiting for the crowds to clear so I can go to the bathroom. By this I mean I haven't been doing anything because I keep waiting for everything to settle down. Note to self: It never settles down. I go to bed every night promising myself to get more out of this blessed life tomorrow. I live a pretty incredible life, but I do I truly take advantage of it?

It got me to thinking. Is my life well lived? How do you know if a life is well lived? What are the signs of life?

I think I found some.

Like missing teeth. Really, at what other time in your life would you proudly show the fact that you have no front teeth? This is a moment that comes once in a lifetime. For Jill, it came at seven. She lost the first front tooth in the normal bathroom sink kind of way. But the second was missing when she woke up one morning. We continue to work under the assumption that she swallowed it in her sleep as we never did find the tooth. After laboring to eat apples, corn and just about everything with two loose front teeth, she is reveling in the ease with which food slips right in now.

Another sign of life: Bruises, bumps and scrapes.

It's a fact, you can't get hurt if you're not in the game. But, then again, what's the fun in watching other people play the game just to spare yourself a little pain? The girls have been on their bikes everyday getting every second out of these glorious days God has given us. Nearly every afternoon, just as soon as they come in, they hear a call from the neighbor kids, "Emma, Jill?" They look at one another and without a word spoken they slips their shoes back on and run outside to squeeze out just a little more fun before it's time to come in for dinner. Not a moment wasted. Every drop of sunshine reaches its full potential in their imagination and joy.

One of my favorite signs of life: dancing.

Erik took the girls to annual Daddy-Daughter Dance at church in February. But he did more than just take them to the dance. I was horribly sick that day and had planned to take the girls to get their hair done and paint their nails - all the fun girly stuff that comes with such an occasion. I worried they would miss out, but I shouldn't have worried. I should have remembered whom I married. He took them to get their hair done, painted their nails, helped them get dressed and then, of course, he danced with them all evening.

Oh, and there is one more dance around our here that brings life to the whole house and makes us all laugh. It can only be done by Jilly and she named it herself.

It is known simply as The Buffet.

This is only one small piece and if you've not seen the whole thing, you really must. Jill makes us all laugh all the time. The best part about her style of humor, is that it's so unintentional. It's the way when her dad asks her on the way to church, "Jill, how are you doing?" and she responds, "Why do you want to know?" It's the way when you ask her, when she's not listening, "Jill, what are our rules?" and she responds, "Listen, be respectful and don't execute people." We're pretty sure she meant don't interrupt, but then again, it is Jill...

A perhaps more subtle sign of life - maturity. Not the kind where one takes herself too seriously. No, the kind where you start to really discover who you are and even begin to get comfortable with what you find. My Emma is doing this in a really lovely way. I think back to when I was 9 and I can be pretty sure I did not mature as gracefully and beautifully as she seems to be doing now. Her smile is nearly as big as her heart. She finds fault with few, but even when she does is so quick to forgive. She doesn't judge, if you know her, you're her friend, and she is so well navigating the space between still being a little girl and becoming a young lady. She's still way into her music, loves animals and is becoming quite the mountain biker. I have to say, I soooo love her taste in music. Lately, she loves the Beatles, Erasure, French music and Harry Nilson. My girl.

I suppose a sign of life can also be marked by numbers. Like, 13 - the number of years Erik and I were married on March 15 this year. How about 4? The number of days we celebrated with a childless mini-vacation. We went to Las Vegas as a gift from our parents. My parents got us a suite at the Palazzo (The Venetian) and Erik's parents were generous enough to keep the girls. In addition, a former client of Erik's got us tickets to see The Beatles Cirque de Soleil show, Love. It was amazing and we had a great time just talking and walking and eating and eating and eating.... For two non-gamblers, by the end of day four we were anxious to get home and even more anxious to hold our babies. We kept thinking the whole time we were on vacation how blessed we feel to actually want to come home and what an awesome life God has given us. Erik gets to work from home, I am home schooling the girls, we eat 3 meals a day together, we continue to serve in teen ministry together, and, yes, we actually like to spend that much time together! Vacation seems to feel better when you don't feel like your trying to escape your life.

I can't think of a better time of year to talk about life. About new life, about resurrected life, about eternal life. So, as I celebrate life this Easter, the One given for me so that I may have new life, I suppose it's time I get in the game.

Ok, ok, but can I take my popcorn with me?

Happy Easter!

In His Service,

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas....Is Over?

2010-01-04T14:31:00.000-07:00

Wow! That's all I could keep saying as I put away our holiday decorations this year. It seemed like we had just put them out and I was resolving, yet again, to really slow down and enjoy this Christmas season. While I certainly did enjoy the holidays, they went by really fast and I can't say that I ever slowed down. We managed to fit quite a bit in during the month of December including Jill's 7th birthday, a trip to Symphony Hall to see the Nutcracker, a visit to the Botanical Gardens, a road trip to Long Beach for a wedding, a run up the mountain to play in the snow and visit relatives, Christmas Eve at my sister's home and oh yes, Christmas! It was a whirlwind of a good time!

Our month kicked off as it as for the past seven years with Jilly's birthday. This year it was a sleepover with, count em', 10 little girls. If you're thinking it, I heard it a million times: Are you crazy?

The answer is yes, but it was so worth one night of chaos.

We decorated cookies, had makeovers (with lots & lots of red lipstick!), watched movies, ate way too much and stayed up way too late. This year was special as Jill requested that her friends make donations to Feed My Starving Children rather than bring gifts. Jilly was able to collect almost $100 which helped in our church's effort to feed over one million hungry children across the world.

The week before Christmas I traveled to Long Beach with my mother and uncle to attend my cousin's wedding. This was a lovely break with two people I always have a great time with and with whom I laugh a lot! We spent a day and a half just sitting on the beach trying to figure out a way to rearrange our lives so we could do so everyday. Alas, we came up with nothing and were forced to return to our normal routines. Granted my return to 65 degrees and sunny was a little easier than my uncle's return to sub-zero temperatues and blizzards in Omaha.

Good times, good times...

Finally, it was Christmas. Ah yes, the real reason for the season. Christmas Eve was spent at my sister, Carrie's home. It was a packed house with both my sisters, their fiancees, my mother and step father as well as extended family - including 11 children. But isn't that how Christmas is supposed to be? Loud, crowded, chaotic...It was perfect, it was great. It really was what a family holiday should be - full of laughter, love, retelling of embarrassing stories and the subsequent ridicule.

Christmas morning: Happy Birthday Jesus! This year, despite the rest of my family being up at 5:00 am, I was permitted to sleep until 7:00 am. Merry Christmas to me! Spoiler Alert:

It does help that the kids don't believe in Santa. No more coming in at 2:00 am with claims of having heard reindeer on the roof or checking every hour to see if he's been there yet. Anyway, we started our morning as is tradition in our home, by reading our letters to Jesus and telling Him what our birthday gift to Him will be this year. Next, of course came the stockings and tearing through hours of wrapping in about 7.4 minutes. We saved the big gift for last: a Wii, complete with Rock Band.

This was a gift from us and Erik's dad and step mom.

As you can see, it was well received. The awesome part of giving this gift was that the girls never asked for one or had any idea they were getting one. We have already had some great family time playing the sports and Rock Band and we have confirmed that none of us have any real future in the music industry.

Ok, I have to take time to brag on my husband. In the midst of exchanging the usual small gifts we always do on Christmas, i.e. cologne, DVDs, shirts, I was handed a box to open. In the box was a a scrapbook, handmade over the past month by Erik. On each page was the 3:11 scripture from every book of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation. He even found clip art of corresponding art work for each and every scripture. For those of you out of the loop: 311 is my number. It seems to pop up for me everywhere from when I look at a clock to the change I get back to birthdays of relatives. I once told Erik that it comes up for me so often I use it as an opportunity to remember that God is looking over me and to thank Him for all of my blessings. In fact, in 1995 Erik told me to pick the day I would marry him. We had only been dating 6 months so, not thinking much of it, I picked March 11. We were married two years later on March 15 because March 11 did not fall on a weekend...Thank you, Erik.

On New Year's Eve we took the girls to play in the snow. It was a last minute decision so we were not as prepared with snow clothes as we should have been, but a good time was had by all. Despite froze toes we managed a decent snowball fight and a solid attempt at a snowman.

And so, that brings 2009 to a close. Looking back over a year, it never turns out the way I thought it would. I can say, though, it always turns out better than I thought. Thank goodness I'm not in charge in my life! May God Bless you all this year and may you have another year full of cherished memories.

PS Happy Birthday Bella. Our girl was 3 on January 3.

In His Service,

Fall Inspiration

2009-10-16T11:47:00.000-07:00

Yea! It's finally fall. I mean you wouldn't really know it based on the evidence alone: 100 degree temperatures, lack of fall foliage, kids still asking if they can swim. But, I double checked the calendar and indeed it is officially fall! So, cool weather and sweaters or not, I am celebrating the season. We've recreated a bit of the fall feel in our home with faux pumpkins and autumn leaves and pumpkin candles. I even spent all last weekend canning 40 lbs of pears. (Now we have pears for months and I never want to see one again!) If I didn't take a step outside I could almost convince myself rows of trees dressed in their red and orange best and winds that bite at my nose hinting of the winter to come are just the other side of my door. Almost...

I've been in one of those moods lately. The kind where you start to reconsider everything and really feel the need to define yourself, your life, your purpose. I kept trying to figure out who I was, what I was supposed to be doing and then, what does that look like? But, I think I realized somewhere in all that analytical deep thinking, I should get up, stop thinking and actually "do" my life. That is, I already know the most important detail of who I am: I am a child of God. Moreover, He has placed me in such a time as this. A time where I get to enjoy the youth of my children all day, everyday. I never have to give them up or miss out on any of the great discoveries they make, the kind that come once in a lifetime. My husband is my best friend and I spend everyday with him. So what if I stopped trying to figure who I am and started doing the life God has blessed me with the very best that I can? I came to realize that this, right here and now, this is my life. I fell into the realization that I can keep trying to figure out what I should or could be doing or I can do this and do it well and really enjoy it at the same time.

I was helped along to this conclusion by some pretty amazing people around me who are doing just that. First, my girls. Man, do they love life! I mean they wake up everyday excited and can hardly wait to see what adventures are in store for them. Currently, they are working together to clear the side yard to (finally!) start their garden. The most beautiful part of this is that they decided to do it all on their own and they are doing it together. They work right outside my office window and I can hear them singing, laughing, and giggling. Such sweet sounds and I am filled with joy as I hear them, two little best friends, making that sister bond that lasts forever.

They are staying busy with home school and activities. In fact, here is a picture of Emma riding the Sky Bike at the Arizona Science Center. The Sky Bike is a bike suspended two stories that is impossible to tip over. You ride on what is basically a tight rope. Now there's a girl who doesn't miss a chance to have a once in a lifetime experience!

Jill would have gone too if not for her lack of height. Jill is excited for her birthday coming up in December and is already planning her sleepover.

Speaking of sisters living life, mine are doing theirs in a BIG way! My middle sister recently became engaged to a wonderful man. I can't think of two people who deserve happiness more. Oh wait, I can think of two people who also deserve such happiness. My oldest sister recently gave birth to her third child. A beautiful little girl named Claire. She is perfect. Not in the sense that she has 10 fingers and toes, because plenty of perfect children are born without those things. I mean she is perfect in the sense that everything about her is good and lovely. In the wise words of Maurice Sendak, I want to eat her up, I love her so. When I need inspiration to live life well, I need only pick up the phone and call one of these two amazing women I am blessed enough to call my sister.

And then there's the man I share my life with. Talk about inspiring. He spent last weekend in Mexico with 200 teenagers from our church building houses, a rec center and a church with the group, One Mission. He said it was life changing and he has committed to make every mission trip to Mexico with the teen ministry. In fact, it impacted him so much he has insisted I go with him next time. It was amazing to hear of the work God is doing there through our youth (who all too often get a bad rap.) It didn't take much persuasion for me to agree to go next time. Erik has also stayed busy at work and mountain biking. He inspires me in the way he sees every minute as a moment not be wasted, every encounter an opportunity and every detail of his life as a gift from God. When I am down, he reminds me to look up.

So, we are going to celebrate the season this weekend and make a pumpkin chocolate cheesecake, go for a hike and do some fall crafts. What do you know? I've fallen in love with my life all over again.

In Christ,

Jaime

Hooray for Summer (Is It Over Yet?)

2009-08-02T13:41:00.000-07:00

It seems every year I get myself worked up in eager anticipation of summer - slow days, night swimming, fireworks, watermelon, light school schedules, even lighter chore schedules. And I love it and bask in all the warm, sunny glory that is God's gift of summer. Then it's August and I'm done. I'm done with the heat, done with being stuck inside from 10-4, done with the world's most boring 7-day forecast and I'm totally over these electric bills! I'm trying really, really hard to be thankful for God's provisions this summer. I am thankful for boardgames, reading Tom Sawyer to the girls each morning (if you haven't read this classic, especially in the middle of a hot summer, I highly recommend doing so), sipping lemonade, trips to the library and the excitement of reading the new books and watching the movies we bring home, and of course trips to the cabin. But I find, as I get older, my enthusiasm for these things doesn't seem to satisfy as much and my longing for autumn, winter and being outdoors grows like a whining child for whom good is never quite good enough. In my home we have a saying: You get what you get and you don't throw a fit. Perhaps I need to take a long hard look in the mirror, appreciate the splendor of summer and stop throwing a fit. So, today it is 11o degrees, I am sipping lemonade, I am writing, my girls are playing nicely, my husband is working in the garage (on our new-to-us minivan) - indeed, life is sweet when I take the time to notice.

Our summer travels are over. Erik attended Christ In Youth in L.A., a summer camp for the teens at our church. It was a profound experience for him and he came back more excited than ever to continue his work in the teen ministry. We tried to go to the cabin for the fourth of July - key word: tried. We were there for one night and we had an, um, issue with the septic system. Nuff said. Anyway, although we were disappointed to come home early, we learned a couple of things. First, we should probably get used to handling this sort of thing if we are serious about entertaining an off the grid lifestyle. Second, a fourth of July spent at home watching the Capitol Fourth and listening to A Prairie Home Companion while eating fried chicken and homemade potato salad is a pretty fine time.

Emma's birthday is this Saturday, and she reminds us everyday and has reminded us everyday for about a month. She will be nine and no, I can't believe she will be nine. I have a nine year old? Am I old enough to have a nine year old? If I say "nine year old" enough maybe it will start to feel more normal, like maybe by the time I'm practicing saying I have ten year old. No big parties this year, something we are all, thankfully, over. She has a sleep over planned at a girlfriend's house on Friday as it is her friend's birthday as well. On Saturday we have a bit of a surprise planned for her and Sunday will be a pizza party with just her best friend. Remember when your birthday was stretched out over a whole week and it was something really special? It wasn't just about the day, it was about every card that arrived in the mail, it was the phone calls from grandparents, picking whatever you wanted to eat all day, hearing mostly yes instead of no for an entire day (or days) and hardly being able to sleep the night before the actual day. I think I would like to recapture a bit of that this year. What if, instead of lamenting turning 32, I woke up on my birthday filled with excitement and shouting "Whoo hoo, I'm 32!!" I could say yes to myself all day. Like yes, you can have a pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin muffin. Yes, you can watch another movie. Yes, you can sleep in late and take a longer run. Yes, you can skip doing the dishes. What if we did that all year long? What if we got excited over the little things, celebrated make believe holidays, made cakes with candles for no reason, read our favorite children's book because it makes us smile, had slumber parties with our kids, or made milkshakes, for breakfast, on a Tuesday? What if I recognized every moment was a gift from God and these moments,connected, are my life and I actually stopped to enjoy them and savor them? What if...

OK, I'm done with the motivational pep talk to go recapture your youth. I think it was more for me anyway. Moving on...

I mentioned we have a new minivan. We sold the Mercedes and purchased this vehicle as it is much more practical for our family right now. This was a gift from God and although we weren't sure, financially, how it would all work out, we were able to get a great deal on the van, pay cash for it and put a little money in the bank. Somehow, it always comes back to a trust issue doesn't it?

As much as I looked forward to less on the schedule for summer, I am excited to start up again this year. I begin my work with the mentoring ministry again at church this month and we kick off the school year with the home school ministry next week. I so love my involvement with both of these groups and am truly excited to see what the Lord has in store over the next few months.

So, sorry, no new pictures this time. Mostly because I haven't downloaded them, but also we just haven't had the camera out much over the summer. Until next time...(which will hopefully be sooner rather than later, but no promises...)

In His Service

Home Sweet Home

2009-06-04T10:21:00.000-07:00

Well, so much for posting every two weeks. Darn, there goes that award for perfect mom. Foiled again. Ah well, we've been busy, but I am happy to report we are finally seeing the slow down that has been on the horizon since last fall. Here's what we've been up to:

As most of you know, Erik visited Panama in the early part of May. (Yes, like the country - Panama.) It was a trip we felt convicted to send him on as God had put the idea of a move to Panama in front of us three times over the last year. We were ready to go where the Lord was leading, even if that meant a drastic relocation. However, our prayers for a clear answer and guidance were answered and after just a couple of days there, Erik was sure we were not to move, at least not yet. It was a beautiful, diverse country, and one which we look forward to visiting as a family. But, in the end, we really believe it was a trip Erik needed to make so we would know for sure that right here, in Glendale, is where we belong for now. In essence, he had to go, so he could come home.

I also did some traveling in May. Right after Erik's return from Panama, I traveled to a much more exciting, exotic destination: Omaha, Nebraska. Okay,perhaps not as dangerous, but after hearing of Erik's accommodations, I guarantee it was much more glamorous. I went for my grandmother's 85th birthday celebration. It was a lovely, relaxing time. I had the luxury of sleeping late (the kids stayed home with Erik!), enjoying quiet time to read and play games and catch up with family members I had not seen for a few years. The weather was rainy and chilly - perfect in my opinion. Everything was so green and lush, it made me want to really get going on my own garden here at home. Of course, then I got home to 100 degree temps and put that ambition back on the shelf until next fall.

The girls are doing great and growing up much to fast for my taste. Emma is at sleep away church camp by herself for the first time this week. Jill and I are literally counting down the hours until we get to pick her up on Friday. I have word from a friend who is counselor there that Emma got a little homesick one time, but for the most part is having a fantastic time. I went with her last year, but Erik, she and I decided together that she should go alone this year and start to spread her wings a little. Hopefully not too much, I'm not ready for my chicks to fly away just yet. Next week the girls will go to VBS and then, as much as possible, we are taking the rest of the summer off.

Wait....scratch that. Jill will not be taking it easy this summer. Jill will begin swim lessons this summer and after stroke school is considering joining a swim team. She already does awesome in the water and with a little real guidance, i.e. not mom and dad, we think she may have found something she'll stick with for awhile. In the mean time, she continues to keep us in stitches with her witty remarks and much too mature for her age humor. In fact, we were recently informed after one day of her new first grade Sunday school class, that she found it boring and had elected to skip it and go straight to second grade. Oh boy...

In His Service,

Jaime

Cabin Fever

2009-04-05T15:56:00.001-07:00

We spent last weekend at Erik's family's cabin on Mingus Mountain (near the Prescott/Jerome area.) It's a true log cabin on a secluded patch of 40 acres in a canyon of the mountain. Places like that have a way of making you never want to leave. They some how offer both the permission and invitation to imagine your life differently. For me it's a life that is bigger and smaller at the same time. A life that requires an abandonment of everything I thought I needed or was important and an embrace of the things that truly are the stuff of which life is made. When it's 30 degrees outside, there is a fire building in the wood stove and I am reading Farmer Boy to my daughters by the light of lantern, I dare to suggest to myself, "I could get used to this." Among other things, we proved to ourselves we can indeed survive without the constant stimulation of television and computer and that yes, we do in fact like to spend time together. It's not the worst thing in the world to discover you love your family.

The girls had a fabulous time exploring, hiking and enjoying the freedom that comes when their parents can finally relax. In fact, they even stayed "home" alone for about an hour while Mom & Dad enjoyed a hike all to themselves. While our only hope was that the cabin would still be standing and no one would be seriously injured when we returned, we were pleasantly surprised to find they had cleaned the entire cabin and played a civil game of Uno. It was one of those parenting moments where one thinks, "Maybe I'm not totally messing this up after all."

The weekend was also a time of prayer, reflection and a genuine sense of gratitude. We knew going up there we were blessed, but on the drive home we all had a renewed sense of well being and a smile that stayed on our faces well into the return to our normal routine at home.

So, while the days are getting hotter and we know the worst of the heat is yet to come, we are eagerly anticipating the slow pace that comes with summer. A time when the only thing we have to do is make sure we get a refill on our lemonade between laps in the pool. Okay, maybe it's not quite that slow, but, from one who loves to schedule everything, I plan to schedule more time for absolutely nothing...

In His Service,

From My Home to Yurt(s)

2009-03-15T15:38:00.000-07:00

I've been in a bit of a funk lately. We are making some big decisions about our future and although there is a relief in knowing that we (Erik & I) are headed in the same direction, there is also a bit of angst that comes with such discussion. There is the angst of not knowing how we'll get from here to there. There is the angst of not knowing if our dreams are God's will for our future. And then there is the worst frustration of all - the Veruca Salt variety, i.e. : I want it and I want it now!!

So, no, that it is not a mispelling in today's title. One of our mutual dreams, it turns out, is to live on a large piece of land in a yurt. What is a yurt, you may be asking? Though generally classified as a tent, a yurt is much stronger and weathertight. Yurts are a circular structure that consists of a durable fabric cover, tension band and a wood frame that includes a lattice wall, radial rafters, central compression ring and a framed door. It sounds really primitive I know, but Google them and take a look at the pictures - they are beautiful. But it's the whole lifestyle we equate with living in a yurt that appeals most to us. Ridding ourselves of things, living off-grid, focusing on what's really important. A real back to basics. I know I'm so corny. The girls and I are reading the Little House book series right now and I get such a longing in my heart as we read about their simple way of life.

So, for the time being we are trying to creat that simple life right here in suburbia. Emma, Jill and I are officially starting to prepare our garden this week. As a family we have made a committment to spend more time in nature and have even committed to hiking every weekend. Eventually, we'd like to get back into mountain biking. Although Erik will have to go it alone for awhile as we are still working on getting the training wheels of Jill's bike. (Do they make training wheels for mountain bikes??...doubtful....) I wanted a chicken coop for the backyard as well, but Erik said a very firm NO! He's got to draw the line somewhere I suppose. So, our small changes are a start and it does feel good to be working toward a common family goal. (But, there's still that little voice deep inside sreaming I want it now!!!)

PS This discussion was prompted because it is our anniversary today. 12 years!!!! At least if our dreams are crazy, we still have the same crazy dreams after more than a decade together.

In His Service,

Sugar & Spice...

2009-03-01T14:39:00.000-07:00

It is with a bit of sadness that I bid farewell to February. I love February because, in our home, it is the epitome of everything girlie. We usher in Valentine's Day with pink hearts, heart-shaped cupcakes, valentines made of doilies and we close out our month with the annual Daddy Daughter Dance at our church. It was also as we prepared for the dance that I realized I am in the long process, but one that will pass by much too quickly, of bidding farewell to the little girl days for my daughters. Yes, they are only 6 and 8 and yet, at the same time, oh my gosh they are already 6 and 8. My eight-year-old picked out a more mature dress than years past (still father approved appropriate though!) and I noticed what a beautiful young lady she is becoming. I was so happy to hear that they still played tag with their friends at the dance and that Emma still cried "happy tears" as she danced with her daddy to their favorite song.

It's been a bit of sugar and spice in the kitchen as well as we have committed to making as much of our food from scratch as possible. Better for us, better for the environment, better for our wallets... We started with bread this week and I am happy to report it was a huge success. I found a wonderful recipe that actually lets you prepare the dough in loaves of three and tear off just what you need to bake that day. It is wonderful and with a little prep time on the weekend, you can have fresh baked bread everyday. Yum!! This week: cheese....we'll see...

So, welcome March! We're in Arizona so this also means we are welcoming summer. It is already 90 degrees and the girls are dipping their feet in the pool. We should see a few more days of 70s and 80s before triple digits become the norm, so we are thankful for the blessing of this gorgeous weather. We've been outside a lot and are getting ready to plant a garden- our first ever!! I am excited and nervous. The thought of having fresh veggies to go on my homemade bread is motivating me, despite my complete lack of experience in this area.

In His Service...

Welcome!

2009-02-15T18:48:00.000-07:00

Hi! Welcome to A Better Circus - the Surrett Family Blog. We are a Glendale, Arizona family consisting of Erik (dad), Jaime (mom) and Emma & Jill (daughters ages 8 and 6 respectively). Oh, and of course, Bella the Beagle. I (Jaime) am a home schooling mom who loves to write, bake, sew, and craft. None of which I am particularly skilled at (yet), but I am driven by my determination to be that mom - the one who shows up to the play date in a perfectly ironed dress with homemade cookies, clean kids and already has dinner in the crock pot at home. Ha! A girl can dream... I am a former paralegal who studied philosophy in college. As there was not much call for philosophising paralegals in the Phoenix area, I embraced my true God-calling 8 years ago and became a stay at home mom. Other than marrying my high school sweetheart, it's the best decision I've ever made!

Erik is the DO/CFO of a Phoenix based law firm. He, however, is happily based at home with us. With strong interests in the environment and automobiles, he is currently in the process of converting his 1982 Diesel Mercedes to run on waste veggie oil. Yes, like veggie oil from cooking. In fact, his ideas for personalized license plates have lead to some heated discussion in our home. More on that later...Additionally, he is very active in the teen and neighborhood ministries at our church.

As we had a major (I mean really major) change in income this year, learning to live more simply, creatively and on less money is my current pursuit. We have downsized our home, our cars and thankfully, our schedules. I find strength and encouragement through my faith, family and friends. So thanks for stopping by. I look forward to your feedback and comments and the opportunity to share a small peek into our life.

In His Service . . .