This post was written last week while Blogger was not working so it was never posted. Although I am no longer feeling this way, these were valid feelings at the time and I try to keep it honest:
Tomorrow the girls and I will officially move into our new apartment. Sleep, bathe, cook, everything. It is the exciting day that I have been waiting for and all of the sudden I'm crying in the kitchen 'cause I didn't know it was going to be this hard.
Since March we have been in this protective cocoon at mom and dad's house. The house I grew up in. Now it's just us. I'll be the one to check to see if the front door is locked every single night, the only one to see if my kids are running into the street, I'll take out every bag of trash, make all the hard decisions myself. Lastly, I'll be the only one to scold the children when they are outside naked peeing in the garden and the neighbors start yelling (this actually happened.) No wonder I was feeling shaky. I didn't know it would be so lonely. That caught me by surprise. It's just not not supposed to be this way. There is supposed to be a Mommy AND a Daddy.
So I came home and did the only thing I could think to do. I sat down and prayed. Jesus.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Monday-Friday
I had 3 wants before I moved into our new apartment.
1. Paint the living room
2. Paint the girls' bedroom
3. Get the nursery border off my soon to be bedroom wall.
That is it.
None of these were Needs. We could have comfortably lived there with none of this done. Yet, God, in His revelation of his love for us has gone over and above providing for our hearts' desires. I hear babies crying upstairs, so the story of God's provision will wait til another day. But here are some pictures of the apt.
The Living room with white primer over the red walls.
My Beautiful Pink and White Living Room. I don't care what anyone thinks - I LOVE it!
The girls' bedroom went from brown to very pink. (Funky picture - it's got an OK sign in the shadow.)
Everybody "helped."
1. Paint the living room
2. Paint the girls' bedroom
3. Get the nursery border off my soon to be bedroom wall.
That is it.
None of these were Needs. We could have comfortably lived there with none of this done. Yet, God, in His revelation of his love for us has gone over and above providing for our hearts' desires. I hear babies crying upstairs, so the story of God's provision will wait til another day. But here are some pictures of the apt.
The Living room with white primer over the red walls.
My Beautiful Pink and White Living Room. I don't care what anyone thinks - I LOVE it!
The girls' bedroom went from brown to very pink. (Funky picture - it's got an OK sign in the shadow.)
Everybody "helped."
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Welcome To My Life
I let E. and C. ride their bike/scooter to Karate class tonight. I'm a mother, when it was 6:45 and they weren't home yet I was a little concerned, not concerned enough to go look, but I was watching the clock.
A few minutes later C. ran in saying E. had fallen down on the way and couldn't get up. She was serious. Broken bones? Hospital visit? How in the world am I going to handle this alone? (Mom and Dad at Phillies game).
I put C. in charge of the 2 younger sisters and ran out the front door, praying all the way. I ran down my block and turned at the corner in search of E. On the next block I saw her sitting on the ground in the distance. When she saw me coming she got up on her feet and started walking.
She was alright. There was no hospital to visit and no need to call in reinforcements. My mind said, OK, you can stop running. My spirit whispered, keep on running.
I ran til I reached her.
She needed lots of mommy hugs and an arm around her waist and she made it home on her own steam. Lot of drama. Little damage.
A couple hours later E. came upstairs for a snack and I was hugging her. I said, "I love you. Do you know how much I love you?" E. replied in four little words, "You ran to me."
How Great the Father's Love for us, that we should be called children of God...
When I have fallen down and I am scraped and bruised and sad, how much more clearly have I seen the expressions of God's great love for me. My daily life testifies to this.
He runs to me, even though He doesn't have to. Just so I can know how very much He truly loves me.
A few minutes later C. ran in saying E. had fallen down on the way and couldn't get up. She was serious. Broken bones? Hospital visit? How in the world am I going to handle this alone? (Mom and Dad at Phillies game).
I put C. in charge of the 2 younger sisters and ran out the front door, praying all the way. I ran down my block and turned at the corner in search of E. On the next block I saw her sitting on the ground in the distance. When she saw me coming she got up on her feet and started walking.
She was alright. There was no hospital to visit and no need to call in reinforcements. My mind said, OK, you can stop running. My spirit whispered, keep on running.
I ran til I reached her.
She needed lots of mommy hugs and an arm around her waist and she made it home on her own steam. Lot of drama. Little damage.
A couple hours later E. came upstairs for a snack and I was hugging her. I said, "I love you. Do you know how much I love you?" E. replied in four little words, "You ran to me."
How Great the Father's Love for us, that we should be called children of God...
When I have fallen down and I am scraped and bruised and sad, how much more clearly have I seen the expressions of God's great love for me. My daily life testifies to this.
He runs to me, even though He doesn't have to. Just so I can know how very much He truly loves me.
Labor
I'm working on the new apartment this week and when I'm not, I'm too pooped to think. So, for the next few days, I will be "blogging in my head" only.
Pictures will surely follow (of the apt., not my head)
Pictures will surely follow (of the apt., not my head)
Monday, April 25, 2011
Proof
The following is proof that I am not and never was meant to mow.
Mowed at my parent's house today.
This is dirt. On my arm.
Can you see the sweat on my brow. Glistening. The bemused expression. The reddened skin.
I think words are unnecessary.
My hand after I've showered - yes, they are blisters developing. Right there, under my fingers. See that red line. The blisters.
This is a picture of my cute kids.
:)
Mowed at my parent's house today.
This is dirt. On my arm.
Can you see the sweat on my brow. Glistening. The bemused expression. The reddened skin.
I think words are unnecessary.
My hand after I've showered - yes, they are blisters developing. Right there, under my fingers. See that red line. The blisters.
This is a picture of my cute kids.
:)
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I Am Growing. And So Is The Grass
I believe that there are people who were meant to mow grass and there are those who were not. You can safely assume about anyone who starts a conversation off in this way that they are most certainly in the "NOT" category.
Let me tell you. I mowed the law today at my parent's office, soon to also be my residence. I think I may have mowed once before in my life; I'm 37. I avoided it for a lot of years by the "I don't know how," excuse. Then, well, in India, there is no grass. You sweep the dirt. (I didn't do that either.) Cleaning, manual labor. I just generally avoid it.
So, it has come to pass along with all the other changes in my life, that I now mow lawns. Thankfully, my parents' other tenant was there to get me started and show me how to turn on the mower (he also cleared out the grass catcher thingy for me too when it got filled up which was a big help.)
So, I get started and I don't have a clue what to do, plus the property is situated on a corner on a main street and it's rooty. I start out mowing like any non-mower would, pushing the machine like you vacuum. Back and forth. I quickly realized that this is not how I have seen it done (on TV and stuff - think Forest Gump). The light bulb goes on and I realize you're supposed to get a grid going, around and around - which I did. I still think I'm pretty stinky at mowing, and I was sure the entire time that someone was gonna stop their car, pull over and say, "Excuse me maam, I can see that you don't have a Clue how to mow. Let me give you a few pointers..." But it didn't happen. I guess people were too busy digesting their ham and turkey on Easter afternoon to bother with advice giving. (I had egg salad and lemon cupcakes).
In the end, the grass was mowed (mostly), I didn't break the mower (whew!) and I didn't drop it off the end of the sidewalk (we're talking no upper body strength people). I now must shower.
Let me tell you. I mowed the law today at my parent's office, soon to also be my residence. I think I may have mowed once before in my life; I'm 37. I avoided it for a lot of years by the "I don't know how," excuse. Then, well, in India, there is no grass. You sweep the dirt. (I didn't do that either.) Cleaning, manual labor. I just generally avoid it.
So, it has come to pass along with all the other changes in my life, that I now mow lawns. Thankfully, my parents' other tenant was there to get me started and show me how to turn on the mower (he also cleared out the grass catcher thingy for me too when it got filled up which was a big help.)
So, I get started and I don't have a clue what to do, plus the property is situated on a corner on a main street and it's rooty. I start out mowing like any non-mower would, pushing the machine like you vacuum. Back and forth. I quickly realized that this is not how I have seen it done (on TV and stuff - think Forest Gump). The light bulb goes on and I realize you're supposed to get a grid going, around and around - which I did. I still think I'm pretty stinky at mowing, and I was sure the entire time that someone was gonna stop their car, pull over and say, "Excuse me maam, I can see that you don't have a Clue how to mow. Let me give you a few pointers..." But it didn't happen. I guess people were too busy digesting their ham and turkey on Easter afternoon to bother with advice giving. (I had egg salad and lemon cupcakes).
In the end, the grass was mowed (mostly), I didn't break the mower (whew!) and I didn't drop it off the end of the sidewalk (we're talking no upper body strength people). I now must shower.
My Most Beautiful Easter Flower
Happy Birthday to my sweet, beautiful, funny, helpful, smart, driven, athletic, adaptable, amazing C. You are 8!
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