A bigger Vision!

Sometimes we are inspired by friends in ways we never thought we would be. Until recently, my opinion of helping those in need was a little narrower than it is now. I used to think that it was kind of silly to spend so much time, money and effort in third world countries when we had SO MANY people in need here in our own communities. Then Jessica gave me a different view point on it, as did my Pastor. Jessica pointed out that even though we have homeless people, and hungry people, in general they are not starving to death here in America. Third world countries around the world have people starving to death, dying of disease from drinking the only water they have available AFTER they walked 5 miles a day to get to that contaminated water. They are living in conditions that we don’t even let our animals live in. In fact, most would give anything to have a “house” comparable to what my chickens live in.

My Pastor also shed some light on the subject recently. He compared our normal lifestyle here in the states to third world countries. Compared our salaries. Who am *I* to complain about my high electricity bill when there are people that are living in these poverty stricken countries? Especially considering that most people live on the same amount of money for a whole year that my family makes in less than a week, what we make in just a DAY in a lot of cases.

So my opinion has changed. Yes, we still have poor, homeless and orphaned kids here. Yes, there is still a need for outreach in our communities. However, our beautiful country has pretty decent opportunities for these less fortunate people to be clothed, fed and sheltered. Other countries do not. In fact, not only are they deprived of basic human needs, they are deprived of religious freedom.

I cannot say that I came up with this passion all on my own. In fact, I didn’t come up with it at all. With some help from a couple very important people in my life, I’ve come to realize that this world is bigger than me. Bigger than my country. Bigger than my selfishness.

While I wish I could be there to run (walk…..) the marathons that Jessica is preparing for with her to raise money for this cause, this baby on her way and logistics just wont let it happen. So I’m going to do what I can from here. Which (and try not to be completely surprised) is BAKING!

Jessica is involved in a fundraiser for poverty-stricken African communities. She is bribing…..er……enticing people to donate $10 to make her goal of $300 by January 16th with a dozen sugar cookies! I told her I would match her baking offer here locally in ID/UT!

So for the first 30 people to donate a minimum of $10, I will deliver a dozen sugar cookies OR a dozen cupcakes to you personally! If you would rather donate the cookies/cupcakes to a friend, hospital, coworker, etc, I would be more than happy to do that also!

I will put a couple links down at the bottom here. The top one will be for Jessica’s Team World Vision page to donate the $10 to. The others will be links to her blog about why this is important to her and then some other Team World Vision sites she has shared.

Please let me know if you have any questions!

Jessica's Team World Vision page. Donate HERE!

Jessica's Blog, New Realities!

World Vision Uganda Video

Cowgirls Don't Cry

Today on the way to preschool the song Cowgirls Don’t Cry came on the radio. Wade gets all excited when he hears two specific words in a song and makes a HUGE deal out of it. Those words are “Cowboy(girl)” or “Jesus”. If he hears either of them, he about comes out of his seat to tell me. Which is quite often, because we listen to country music and KLOVE all the time… So when he heard the lyrics today he says “Hey mom! He said “cowgirl”! He said they don’t cry!” I kinda laughed and said “usually”. Then he pipes up with, “It’s kinda like you mom. Kinda like you don’t cry AND you’re a cowgirl!” which was really ironic because it was right about then that the tears started running down my face!

I try really hard to keep my stress and fear out of sight of my boys. I’m so glad to hear straight from the babe’s mouth that I’m doing a pretty good job of it! But then I got thinking and I asked myself a question. My boys might not see my fears and frustrations. They might not see the tears. So what ARE they seeing? Not a question I wanted to answer honestly to myself. They’re not seeing joy and they’re not seeing faith, that much I know for sure. They’re seeing robotic actions of an overwhelmed mother instead of love and patience.

I‘ve finally come to realize that every time I start struggling with something it circles right around to not having enough faith. Me being the hardheaded person that I am keeps going back to the way I’ve always handled things and trying to fix things on my own instead of giving it up to God like I know I need to. Somehow I manage to be surprised every time it doesn’t work….imagine that. And yet I keep doing it.

If nothing else, at least I’m tenacious…

I need to learn how to dig deeper into my newly formed faith when I’m at my wits end. It’s hard though. REALLY hard. You would think that something so obvious and so promising would come so easy, like falling in love with a new pair of Luccese boots. But I’ve always been a stubborn creature of habit, and faith isn’t an exception. It’s been 20-something years of doing things my way and it’s not easy to buck this wagon out of it’s ruts. But that’s exactly what it is. Ruts of tears and frustration and pain that I get stuck in over and over. It’s not a happy place. It’s muddy down here, and there’s a lot of manure. (Wading through horse crap, you‘d think I‘d be used to it! Haha!) And I hit walls a lot. And I don’t mean just bump into them, I mean crash head on, tumbling head over heels and slam through a brick wall.

Apparently, I’m also enthusiastic with my tenacity.

The difference now is, I have babies to teach. They are learning their faith from me. The problem is, I don’t like to be stretched, challenged or pushed. Not in ways that makes me uncomfortable anyways and faith isn’t always comfortable. It’s not always easy and sometimes it actually hurts! It’s something crucial that I do for myself though, for my marriage and for my kids.

The enthusiastic tenacity needs to be redirected. Kind of like a toddler…

It’s so hard for me to stop the tears and keep the fears at bay. When I start to wig out about something, I try hard to tell myself to stop an pray but all I really want to do is throw something and scream real loud. Somehow I need to figure out how to have a heart so full of faith that there’s no room for the fears. That way I wont have to worry about the crazy mother my boys are seeing because if there’s no room for the fear then there's no cause for the tears and all that’s left is love! And, as Wade likes to believe, cowgirls don't cry anyways!

Just couldn't wait!!!

I really wanted to wait til my next ultrasound on the 15th to “announce” this, just to be sure. I really wanted to wait to send out the news on a Christmas card. But….well….I’ve never been really good at waiting! And Wade likes to tell everyone he sees what it is. Punk isn’t much help!

As it turns out, Wade’s prediction from the beginning was correct! The doctor says it looks like the boys are getting a baby sister!!

I’m still kind of in shock. I haven’t bought one single pink thing and I’m really not sure why! Even when I go look at baby stuff, I find myself gravitating to the baby boy section. Guess it’s just habit!

I do know that I get all choked up when I think about her. Years ago, when I found out I was pregnant with Wade, I wanted a boy SO BADLY so that any future girls of ours would have a big brother. Now this little girl will have TWO big brothers! And the thought of a baby girl with her daddy….oh boy….talk about getting sappy! I’m actually crying as I write this! LOL! I think it has a lot to do with my own dad being gone, and how I’ll get to see my daughter grow up ALL the way with her dad. Kind of live vicariously through her and watch her have the experiences I didn’t get to. She’s not even born yet, and I’m already thinking about how I’m going to be an emotional wreck when Chuck dances with her at her wedding. Or when he’s a Grandpa and holds his daughters first baby.

Don’t get me wrong, I love watching my boys with their dad. How they look like him, and act like him (well, I USUALLY like that part…) and talk like him. But there’s just something different with a Daddy and his little girl. If I know my husband, he is going to be putty in her hands too! He’s bad enough with the boys, but can you imagine the horses and ponies her and I are going to easily talk daddy into buying?

A very good friend of mine is a fabulous photographer, and is going to do what is called a Birth Story for me. Basically, she takes a billion pictures of the whole labor and delivery process. I’m SO excited for this, because she takes amazing pictures and I just love her to pieces! I think I will tell her “Take about five hundred thousand daddy-daughter pics!” LOL!

For all those wanting all the little details, the doctor’s exact words were “it looks awfully girly to me! Really flat there…..and three white lines there!”. I was as shocked at the three white lines as I was the two pink lines I saw months ago! Lol! I think the doctor was as excited about the gender as I was, because that’s the very first thing he checked, and actually almost forgot to measure her to see how far along I was! We had talked about how baby #3 is the one that pushes you over the edge. Like 2 kids is no big deal, but once you have 3, you might as well have 12! (My doc is awesomely funny, by the way! I just love him!) I told him that I can handle 3 kids, but 3 BOYS might just send me to the insane asylum! So I think he was pretty happy to tell me it looks like a girl!

When he got around to actually measuring her, she measured at 20-21 weeks. Not the 17 like I thought I was. Long story short, I wasn’t exactly sure when I got pregnant, but I *thought* it was AFTER my appendectomy this past summer. I guess it was right BEFORE the surgery, so it didn’t show up on the HCG test they did. But she looks healthy, and he calmed my fears about being pregnant during all that surgery crap. Said there’s nothing to worry about. I also discussed being induced with this one with him, because my babies are always in a hurry to come out and I live an hour and a half away from the hospital. My babies are also usually in SUCH a hurry, that they decide come out a week or two earlier than expected too. My technical due date is April 5th, but we’ll schedule and induced labor a couple weeks before then, just to be safe.

SO. The story is: Unless this midget grows new parts between now and the next ultrasound, our Whitley Makenna will join us some time around the end of March!

*Note: And equally sappy and crazy-emotional-pregnant-momma blog will be coming soon regarding the naming of our little girl!

Thanksgiving Proclamation

I came across this online the other day. I'd never read it before. I think our country forgets sometimes what we were founded on, and what this holiday is REALLY about!

1789-Written by William Jackson

WHEREAS it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favour; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, reqeusted me "to recommend to the people of the United States a DAY OF PUBLIC THANKSGIVING and PRAYER, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:"

NOW THEREFORE, I do recommend and assign THURSDAY, the TWENTY-SIXTH DAY of NOVEMBER next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed;-- for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish Constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted;-- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge;-- and, in general, for all the great and various favours which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also, that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions;-- to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us); and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.

GIVEN under my hand, at the city of New-York, the third day of October, in the year of our Lord, one thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine.

George Washington

Nuclear prayers!

I’ve heard someone say that our prayers go up to God like wisps of smoke. I can’t remember who it was, but if it’s true, my prayers have been going up like nuclear mushroom clouds lately. It’s what I do when I’m scared or stressed, or just flat out don’t know what else to do. I pray. And all of those feelings have been pretty common recently.

Everyone has stress. Sometimes our stress outweighs our capability to cope. I try really REALLY hard to handle my stress gracefully, but sometimes it gets the better of me. Ok fine, a lot of the time it gets the better of me…. Generally, when I reach my boiling point, it has something to do with finances. I feel like I can handle just about any other stress I’ve had to deal with thus far in my life until it comes to money, or the lack thereof to be more precise. I just can’t deal with financial stress. It completely screws up my whole thought process for everything, and completely overwhelms me.

If you live anywhere near Idaho (or the United States for that matter…) you know the job market is pathetic. If you’re in construction, like my husband is, you know that particular industry is even worse than pathetic. At least the jobs at Chuck’s caliber and pay scale. Which is why he’s had to work out of state. But even then, the market still isn’t fantastic where he’s at so he’s constantly looking for bigger and better opportunities. Our goal is for him to eventually have a career with a company that has stability, longevity and will be the best for our family. We want to be able to live the lifestyle we want and be able to comfortably afford the big family we want and give our kids every opportunity they deserve. We realize that means we have to “chase the money”. We also realize that this means we probably wont be able to stay in Downey.

We’ve been extremely fortunate with the company Chuck is currently working with. He’s had the opportunity to gain the experience and confidence he needs, and build the resume to really go after the bigger and better. Which is exactly what he’s done! I have to say, I am pretty proud of his ambition!

So this is where my atomic bomb prayers come in. Chuck is headed to North Dakota this weekend to start a new job. A job that he negotiated a significant pay rate for. A job with security through the winter, which is a big deal in construction. He also has an interview in December with a county in Idaho. (Government jobs = security to us. Benefits, stability, longevity, good pay, no lay offs, etc. It’s been the big goal.) In my prayers I’ve been asking for guidance, for the most part. Chuck was having a hard time deciding on whether or not to change jobs right now, and I just didn’t know what to tell him. So I asked for guidance. To put us on the right path, whether it “felt right” to us or not. Even if it’s not one of the opportunities we see in front of us at the moment.

My personal issue with the job opportunities available to us now is that both of them mean we will eventually have to move. Whether it’s further north in Idaho or WAY further north to the arctic tundra of North Dakota. (Can you tell how excited I am about that idea?) On one hand, I’m terrified. I don’t want to be that far from everything I know. My family is here, my friends are here, my kids’ babysitter and preschool is here, my church that has been so very influential to me is here. But……on the other hand……(I’m gonna switch gears here for a second, bear with me!) My best friend and I have this thing about learning to listen to our guts. We’ve learned that our brains don’t always necessarily know what is best and that our stubbornness in trying to force what our brains tell us, instead of listening to the good instincts God put in us, hinders more than helps.

My brain says to stick with what I know. Stay put. Cling to what I have here. Don’t venture into the unknown. However, in the last 6 or so years, every time we’ve “settled” somewhere, I eventually get a feeling that it’s not exactly where we’re supposed to be. I knew it in California (obviously!) I knew it in Brigham, I knew it in Tremonton, Portage and Malad. I knew it wasn’t a permanent place for our family. Here in Downey, I thought we were settled. I thought we had found the place where our babies would be born and raised. The “home” that our kids would always come home to after they were grown. It’s what my brain wants. But now even here in my comfort zone, my dang guts keep saying that it’s not exactly right, that it’s ok, but not perfect. I sit in my house, and instead of feeling content and settled, it feels temporary again. (And, just to be clear, my guts started saying this even before the prospect of moving for work came up! :D)

So on one hand, everything familiar and comfortable to me is here. But on the other hand, my guts say bigger and better is just out there waiting for us.

So I pray harder. I pray that I can listen to my heart and my instincts and God’s voice instead of my scared little brain. I pray that Chuck can listen to HIS heart too and do what is best for us. I pray that we have clarity and peace with whatever decision we’re led to make, because, for me doubt is the hardest part of any big decision for my family. I pray that the decision we make is the best for our current finances and our financial security in the future. I pray that I can handle being a “single mom” for that much longer, because honestly, I was kind of liking the idea of Chuck being home for the winter. I pray that Chuck can handle being away from his family. I pray that this is the answer to my recent discontent. I thank God that I have the husband that I do and that we have the same vision. That I can depend on him to support our family and he can depend on me to take care of everything else. I thank God for his mercy and grace in our dumb, misguided decisions in the past.

I send my prayers up in smoke signals, (some times mushroom-cloud-sized) knowing that they are being heard, interpreted and answered!

Have you seen that girl?

Have you seen that girl
That everybody says I used to be
Have you seen that girl
Where along the way did I lose me?
Have you seen that girl?
~Lee Ann Womack

I used to have ambition. I used to have patience. I used to be able to concentrate on something for more than five minutes. Including blogging, so I apologize if this one makes absolutely no sense.

Now just the thought of getting out my scrapbook stuff, or sewing stuff, or cleaning the kitchen, taking a shower, bringing in firewood, working the horses, making breakfast, or even sitting down with a book is completely overwhelming. I have to force myself to sit down with the kids and play or read to them. My brain feels so scattered that I don’t ever know where to even start with anything. When I actually start something, I sit and stare at it til I decide it’s not worth it. I cant plan anything in advance anymore so I always end up doing things last-minute and half-way. I’ve always been good at procrastinating, but it seems like that is all I ever DO anymore. If anything is remotely stressful or takes concentration, I put it off. I waste time doing useless stuff, and in the meantime, my stomach is in knots from worrying about everything I SHOULD be taking care of which makes me want to break down and sob all the time. And I don’t even want to talk about the quality of sleep I get.

The result of my issue is; my house is a wreck, I cant keep my kids on a decent schedule, nothing is ever done right, our finances are a mess, my yard is pathetic, my whole life is a wreck.

WHAT is WRONG with me? I don’t even know when this happened! I’m assuming it was a gradual change, because I think if it had happened overnight someone would have said something. I wonder if it was during the whole miscarriage/surgery/quitting my job/Chuck leaving phase. Maybe people just need to have a mental breakdown every once in a while to clear out the junk. Or maybe I’ve just lost it. Trying too hard to be perfect. Worrying too much that I’m not. Feeling inadequate as a mother, daughter, friend and wife.

I still have things I want to do. I still want to learn to play my stupid guitar, I still want to paint the ugly wall in my living room, I still want to learn to rope, I still want to actually finish a Bible study, I still have a hundred craft projects I want to do. But I cant do a single one of them.

I recently read something that made a lot of sense to me. “Victory always begins with a cry for help”. There’s not much anyone can do to answer my cry for help here, unless they have extensive education in crazy people. So I think I’ll spend a lot LESS time on the black hole of the internet, a lot more time on my knees, a lot more time in the Word.

I need something real, I need inspiration to find that girl I used to be, I need consistency, I need to dig deep and rebuild the strength I used to have, I need to grow my faith.

I need peace in my heart because there’s too much chaos in my head right now.

Homesick

When I moved back to the normal part of the country after living in Southern California for 4 years, I was homesick. I hated to admit the fact that there is a part of me that is a bit of a city girl. It’s a little itty-bitty tiny part, but it’s there. And I really did miss it after I was gone. I got over it pretty quickly though, for the most part. I didn’t tell Chuck this, but when we went to CA last spring for a visit I was REALLY homesick. So I still have my moments. It’s a part of my life I’ll always cherish.

Once in a great while, I get restless. The comforting pace of Idaho life, that generally is so perfect for me, gets monotonous. Usually, when I step outside and see the mountains surrounding me, smell the freshly rain-washed sage, hear the horses nicker to me, feel the coolness of night turning to day and the ever-constant breeze on my face and watch my babies play in the dirt, I feel like I’m right where I want to be.

Then there are other days……days when I step out my back door and close my eyes and remember the salty, misty (albeit smoggy….) beach air, the palm trees hanging in the fog waiting for the sun to break out, the smell of McDonald’s and Starbucks and Jack-In-the-Box and orange trees all mingling together because they were all a block away, the sound of traffic and the waves crashing. I remember the circle of friends that have now become so very influential in my life all in one place, the money that flowed and the beer that flowed with it, the spontaneous Vegas trips, the anticipation for the weekend because there was ALWAYS something going on. And Colimas.....oh how i remember Colimas!!!

For a minute, I close my eyes and let myself be homesick.

Then I open my eyes, promise myself a vacation soon, go feed the horses that are so patiently waiting for me and rub their velvet noses, get the fresh eggs from the hens, go get the stack of never-ending bills from the mailbox, wave to the neighbor driving by (on a tractor), grab an armload of firewood and come in the house to be greeted by two little brothers scrapping on the living room floor about a toy.

It’s about then that I close my eyes again. Not to reminisce, but to earnestly thank God that I truly am right exactly where I need to be.