Lessons from Pulpit Rock

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I returned from a 7 day road trip yesterday. I had not planned to go to Village Creek (villagecreek.net) - where my kids were attending camp - but I landed there on Thursday night anyway. On Friday, I spent a lot of time by myself (more time that I would normally at least), took a walk in the afternoon, etc.

In the evening, the kids desparately wanted me to see them in their commercial "talent show." It was funny, and I'm glad I could oblige.

Once it was over, though, there was a pull on my heart that said "go." And then I started walking...and the pull said, "come." I didn't really feel like there was any discussion to be had. I have only been to Pulpit Rock (on top of a hill/cliff on camp property) once before - Adventure Camp weekend at the end of year 1 of Leadership class. I had forgotten that the climb to Pulpit itself was as daunting as the tasks once we reached the top. That time, I was determined to succeed at the task (high ropes course across). This time, I felt I had no choice. Not determination but a pull...a promise of something at the end of the journey. The other time, I had others with me. This time, I was alone...but so not alone. The other time, there was a tree climb, a tightrope to cross, and something to prove. This time - just a pull toward...presence.

I hate walking uphill...Pulpit Rock is about as uphill as they come. I thought that I hate walking through water. The path to Pulpit Rock goes over the stream. The first stopping point (where I could have turned back) was the stream without a bridge. I stood at the edge - threw my hands in the air - and walked across...through the water. At first, I was shocked by the cold, and then I welcomed it. My shoes were wet, but I didn't mind.

I didn't really know my way, but I intuitively followed the path..being led almost. The first part of the path is difficult enough for someone out of shape, but that is not the hardest part...the hardest parts were yet to come. I just kept going...there was no turning back...I was called. The path narrows and steepens, and I start to notice things that I'm to learn on the journey..the journey itself has things to teach me, not just the destination.

Lesson #1: Not everyone makes this journey. The path becomes less and less worn the farther I go.

Lesson #2: There are lots of reasons to turn back (fatigue, fear, pain).

Lesson #3: Looking too far ahead on the path causes me to stumble where I am at right now.

Lesson #4: Looking ahead causes fear and encourages me to return.

Lesson #5: The journey is accomplished by placing one foot in front of the other. Repeat. It's just one step...a decision to take just one step...and another and another and another.

Lesson #6: Pay attention to what is right in front of you or you will get hurt (horrible weeds with pokey things caused me to bleed a few time...still pulling them out of various places).

Lesson #7: Pain is not reason to turn around.

Lesson #8: Keep your hands free (water bottle was not a good choice even though I was so thirsty) - you may need them...balance is important as are those times to recognize when you need to stop a fall. (translation - don't get so busy every day....eesh!).

Lesson #9: Don't rush. There is beauty on the journey. Don't be so intent on the destination that you miss the beauty of the path.

Lesson #10: Unexpected things will bless you (a deer a few feet ahead and an eagle soaring above...).

The hike up the hill is not an easy one for me, and I am so thankful to be alone so that I could go at the pace I needed to go, not worry about what anyone else thought, and just do it. As I reached the actual Pulpit Rock area, the next challenge presented itself. Panting and out of breath with shakey legs, I surveyed the daunting stature and studied the potential paths to the top. None seemed doable though I remember coming down one of them on the last journey. I realize that I've come this far, and this is an accomplishment. I could stop here and feel good about what I've done. But I'm so close to the goal - and I keep being called to go further. "Come." There really didn't seem to be the option of returning without getting to the top. I found a path that I thought would be safe or something...just looked like the best option...and I started to climb. Halfway up, I looked backward to the bottom and remember, "don't look down!!!! just keep climbing." My legs continue to shake. Steadily, cautiously, I climbed. One hand in front of the other. One step upward. Just keep climbing.

When I reach the top, I let out a laugh. No one knew where I was. No one had any idea. And there I was - on the top of a large rock stature. I glanced around and realized that there was so much to the climb itself, so many things to overcome. It just didn't seem that hard tackling it the way that I did. No competition. No rush. Just climb. I immediately glanced over to the tightrope - the daunting task from before. How did I do that? I remembered - one step at a time, determined to succeed, and with a man on the other side, calmly coaching me across...

"I am here." In my head, maybe?

"I am here." No...a reassuring...sense...not a voice...and then a peaceful, calming, end of the sigh feeling washed over me.

I spread my arms, surveyed the skyline - I was so high. I closed my eyes, breathe in, held it, and sighed out...wind blows around me...not forcefully but persistently. The sun will not be up for long, I realize.

I sat down and felt the crevice beneath me. I lay down and realize that the crevice fits me. Holds me...protectively and safely but not tightly.

"Trust me."

"I am here."

To the left, storm clouds begin to form.

To the right, bright skies remain.

Though the storm billows warn in the west, the glory of the Lord shines in the east.

Eyes closed, heart surrendered. Laying there...realizing that I could stay forever (if I had a pillow)...I know that I have to start the descent down. I can't live here. God's presence is not just here...though in the quiet and the beauty, He is definitely easy to see, hear, and...feel.

Where are you, God?

"I am here."

I know you are...why can't I feel you this way below?

"I am here."

What am I supposed to do with myself?

"Trust me."

Can't I just stay here forever?

"Trust me."

Please...

"Trust me."

Time to go. The sun is going down quickly now...there is no time to spare. Before I know it, I will be enveloped in darkness. I crawl down and realize that I am scared. So scared. Climbing upward is not scary, but going down has so many scary parts to it. I could slip. I could trip. I could...fall.

And I don't want to be leaving anyway....torn.

Once I reach the bottom of the rock itself, I begin a steady pace down the path. My legs continue to shake. Returning from the rock has lessons to be taken to heart. Once I hit the grass, I am able to make it down at a steady pace...returning to the known...there is some comfort there...but I am changed. Today has changed me. When I reach the stream, I cross through it without hesitation. The cool water feels good on my hot feet. I stop and stand in the moving water and realize that there is something to be learned here as well. Stop by the cool waters...allow them to restore....

Before I know it, I am back at the Activity Center...back to the chapel time opening...back to being a wife, mother, and....and....and....

On the top of Pulpit Rock, I had only one title - Daughter of the Most High. Created, known, loved, cherished, forgiven, and purposed...

What will I do with this? When will I go back....

And how do I take the knowledge down the hill with me...allow it to take root in my heart...allow the change to remain....

7 Days Without Facebook

Last Sunday, I left for a 7 day road trip.

Facebook status: Stacy Schreier Bender road trip = considering being absent from Facebook for 7 days....I think I'm up for the challenge.

I was. No status updates. I started thinking about myself in the first person again. I didn't think that the world needed to know that I stopped to pee in Somewhere, WI. By the way, I would love to know if there really is a Somewhere, WI. Please hold while I google that.

Apparently not. Sad news. Perhaps I can start my own town named that some day. It would have to be conveniently located within 1 hour of an airport, though.

When I returned to "status land" this afternoon, I found that I didn't really want to share much about the past 7 days. It was mine. Not the property of my 487 friends...most of whom are former students who don't really know me anyway. The trip was mine - and it was God's. What I choose to share about the road trip will be to help me remember...and to help me share who I am afterwards.

I am changed...and I want to stay that way.

When life can't be blogged...

When I made a commitment to blog, I meant it. I really, really did.

But some things in life can't be blogged. They are confidential. They are too raw - at the moment at least. They are not really good ideas to be shared. They haven't been processed yet.

So...this is me...blogging about the unbloggable.

I hate to cry!

I mean it.

I can't stand the feeling of overwhelming emotion at the wrong time. I try really hard to stifle the wave that is about to crash over me...and I fail, and then I just sob. I don't like it when I can't talk, when my voice sounds wobbly and uncertain, and when I can't think because emotions are overwhelming me.

It doesn't really matter what the situation is. Weddings. Funerals. Someone else in tears. Pain of some kind - physical or emotional. My children upset with me. My husband leaving town for a trip. They all can cause a crying jag.

I can usually ward off a good cry with gum (learned that during my mom's funeral doings 6 years ago) or a laugh or just a stiff upper lip that refuses to do it - if I know that I'm going to cry. The problem is when the cry is like the surprise wave on a good beach. The kind that I didn't see coming and then *crash* it's there and I am floundering in a mixture of salt and sand.

I guess crying is a lot like that - minus the sand hopefully.

Wanderings and Wonderings

There is a Christmas song that starts, "I wonder as I wander out under the stars." These two words - wander and wonder - just one letter in difference and yet such a powerful difference in the two words. They can describe so much, and together they can define us. The define me.

I wander, and I wonder.

I wander more in my mind than in my body any more. I wander from where I am working to places far away - in my mind. I wander from the daily grind to a beach - in my mind. I wander...in ways that are spiritual as I "wander" away from the God who directs my path...why would I wander from that?

I wonder why some things happen to some people while not to those who seem to deserve it. I wonder if I will see that person in heaven...we all have "one of those people." I wonder why God would send His Son to die for me...


Ultimately, though...I wonder why I wander....

"The Phantom of the Opera" and Co-dependency

Tonight I saw "The Phantom of the Opera" at the Orpheum in Minneapolis. I saw the musical for the first time in NYC when I was 16 (WAY back in 1990) with my Auntie Toni; my parents thought it would make a great 16th birthday present, and they were right. I've seen it once or twice since then, and I can sing along with the entire 2 1/2 hours. My daughter has joined me in her love of the musical as well, and she is in love with it almost as much as I am.

When I watched the movie for the 2nd or 3rd time (yes, I am hooked), I realized something that I had never realized before...Christine Daae is a young woman in a very unhealthy relationship, and she struggles to know what she should do about it. I do believe that, in some ways, she is in love with the Phantom. He has allowed her song/soul to take flight in a way that she never thought possible. However, once she truly sees the man behind the mask (emotionally as much/more so than physically), she is repulsed at the evil that is revealed.

Christine then is faced with what to do, and she essentially "breaks it off" with the phantom - only to go directly into a rebound relationship with Raul. For the remainder of the musical, she remains torn between the man who will protect her (Raul) and the man who demands to possess her (the phantom). In the final interchange between her and the phantom, she claims to despise him in one line and kisses him in the next. True - she is attempting to save Raul's life with this act, but the music leads us to believe that there is tenderness and care being expressed on some level.

Christine is depicted as a weak/timid character in the beginning of the musical, but with the phantom's help, she becomes an accomplished opera diva. One gets the sense that on her own, she is a frightened child...and her confidence lies in the "angel of music who sings songs in her head." Raul becomes her confidence later and does assist her in getting out the grasp of the phantom. However, overall - Christine has no ability to be confident on her own. She needs a man in her life - no matter how unhealthy the relationship is - in order to have the confidence she needs to be this accomplished opera diva...first the phantom and then Raul.

I love this musical - I really, really do. The music is in a class of its own, and the variety of genre within the musical (opera with electric guitar - what would Wagner say???) is by far one of the most appealiing aspects of the musical.

What concerns me, however, is the message of the musical as it pertains to its heroine. The message that it sends is that a woman needs a man in her life....no matter who he is. And if he turns out to be dangerous, just find another one to help you get out of the mess.

I would be just as concerned if the tragic figure of the phantom were a phantomess...so this is not a feminist movement moment...the fact is that the musical does not portray one healthy relationship, and that concerns me. The scary part is that it has taken me 5-7 times of watching the musical to really flesh that out.

Coke Reduction Project, Day #8

I'm not sure if anyone has been checking here to see if I would elaborate about my success or confess my "falling off the wagon" in terms of my battle with Coca-Cola...but I thought I should update - especially for my own recording purposes.

Last Sunday, I wanted to have more than I should. I even bought a 20 oz while I was driving someone to Elk River. And I promptly spilled most of the bottle. What a bummer but what a laugh!

Monday (my birthday): I only had 1 can because I went to bed before drinking the 2nd can.

Tuesday: my boss gave me 8 twelve ounce bottles for my birthday. Now I have to leave dated cans in the fridge at home if I drink the bottles at work. Not too hard to do.

So far - I'm doing alright. I'm much more thirsty than when I drink too much Coke...and that is interesting!

Covers are Comforting!

We are in Aberdeen, SD, for the weekend visiting Kerry's mom and dad. Last night as I went to bed, I started out too warm for covers but then could not fall asleep. I pulled up the sheet, and I felt a bit better but still could not sleep. I added the blanket and finally the quilt until the weight of the covers comforted me, and I could sleep.

As I was falling asleep, I contemplated how these covers were symbolic for me of the way that God clothed Adam and Eve in the garden when they discovered their sin and then again in the clothing us with righteousness that He provides for us through His son, Jesus.

As I discussed the blog post with Kerry, he reminded me that there is an entire theology about clothing in the Bible. It makes sense to me.

When we are sinful, we often talk about shame being an exposing feeling (that feeling of nakedness). When we confess those things to God, He is able to clothe us and re-clothe us in the righteousness that we have available to us because of what Christ did for us on the cross.

I need to remember to take comfort in the covers - the clothing that God provides...

Today is My Birthday!!!!

I am 35 years old today. And most of the time I feel like I'm a lot younger than that, but I do like the "respect" that I am afforded by most because of the grey hair on my head. Who am I kidding??? :)

Things that I should get to do today because it is my birthday:
1. Sleep in. (My husband thinks that I did, but I wanted to sleep longer...kept getting text messages and voicemails. Those who love me waited until after 9 which is the official start to any day.)
2. Stay in my pajamas all day long until I can no longer stand it and realize that I have to shower. (Mostly true so far...but it is only 9:35 a.m. - see #1.)
3. Have the day off from work. (Not! I could have taken a PTO day, but I've used a lot this year and feel the need to hoard them - what if I need them for some real emergency or "good idea" - like going away with my husband?)
4. Drink more cans of Coke than I have agreed to do. (Please note that my daughter advocated for this, and I am the one who shot her down. If we make exceptions for birthdays, anniversaries, and every day that ends in -y, how will we maintain the integrity of the agreement? And, please note - I agreed to the Coke reduction plan.)
5. Receive a check from President Obama in the amount of my choosing. (I would want this to come from his personal account - not the government!!!!) Today, I choose $50K; I figure shoot high - maybe I'll get something!
6. See people I love and want to see...and no one else. (This presents the obvious problem of how to have this happen without hurting people's feelings - a value of mine.)
7. Be treated to a massage and spa pedicure at Kally Lily salon in Coon Rapids - free of charge to me or anyone else. (No explanation needed here.)
8. Eat a special-ordered ice cream cake - sans chocolate ice cream - from Dairy Queen. (Check. I heard the pastor order it himself - with me reminding him that I do like the fudge and chocolate sprinkles.)
9. Be at the beach in Rhode Island - Beaver Tail Lighthouse - for the sunrise.
10. Get #1-9 and then stall time...for about a week....or maybe a year.

May 16 - Coke Reduction Project Day #1

My husband just convinced me to reduce my consumption of Coca-Cola.

Today is Day #1.

12 days - 2 (12 oz) cans/day.

12 days - 2 (8 oz) cans/day.

12 days - 1 (12 oz can/day

12 days - 1 (8oz) can/day

My only thoughts right now is that I really have to do this. Coke is causing my system to hurt me back, and I don't know why I do this to myself. Maybe that is something that I need to figure out, huh?

Exhausted

I am really tired tonight.

Long week.

Good week.

It is only Wednesday....

Being Real

I'm mulling over a previous post...my own post...on FreedomWorks.

Wouldn't it be easier for our "crimes" to be public knowledge like those going through FreedomWorks?

Here is my thinking: These men have been convicted of crimes, and those crimes are public record. When someone enters into relationship with any of them (there is a mentoring piece to the program), there is not anything like "what will he think of me?" going on like we have inside our heads when we meet new people who know nothing about us.

I am not saying that I want all of my sins on record for all to read...because I am not required to do so, I would prefer that they remain private and in my control of with whom I share them. However, I do wonder if we would pretty much get over ourselves if they were public record.

Could you imagine how much nicer that would be? My crimes listed for you to read would definitely be something worth reading!

Stacy the Angry
Stacy the Stubborn
Stacy the Resentful
Stacy the Gossip
Stacy the Liar (just little "white" ones so that people's feelings aren't hurt, right??)

The list could easily go on - and that would just be today! :) I know...I'm kidding a bit, but I"m not!

Prior to deciding if you want to truly befriend me or not, I could just hand over my wrap-sheet (not sure if that is the correct spelling of that term - don't think I've ever used it before!). You then could look it over and decide if I were friend-worthy. We could even do it over the internet so that I wouldn't have to see your rejection! You could consider if you want to be my friend, and you wouldn't have to wait to see if I were a good or bad person because you would know that my list of crimes existed, what they were, and so on.

The truth is that Christ came to conquer our crimes. While they might be part of our history, that is what they are - history. Conquered history. The sad part is that we often live our lives as if we are still bound to that history - to those crimes. Christ came to set us (sinners) free from the chains of our crimes. We keep ourselves in jail when He has already paid the price to open those doors.

The main character of Nathaniel Hawthorne's book, The Scarlet Letter, is required to wear a scarlet letter "A" as punishment for being an adultress. She will not name the father of the child. (Spoiler warning in case you haven't read the book!) The person with whom she had an affair is the town's pastor, and she will not name him as the baby's father. Hester lives out her life with the "A" on her chest. Dimmesdale, the pastor, punishes himself daily for his crime. He is ruined because of having to keep a secret.

There is something to confessed sin that frees us. Agreeing with God about our sin is healing for our soul. Confessing to another person also brings healing. When we hide from God and others, we will be ruined.

I am not advocating for constant self-revealing. However, I do think we need to be a little more real with one another. For one thing, it would be nice for us to have each other on equal ground. Unless I share my struggles, my sins, with others, how will they know that I struggle? And how then will they know that struggle is part of our Christian life? And how will they be encouraged to accept their struggles and persevere through them? If I put on some facade that illustrates a false Christianity, I am doomed myself. More than that, though, I rob others of the truth that struggle is what we do and that our struggles are redeemed by the blood of Christ.

Sitting in the Back Pew

As the pastor's wife, I usually sit in the front row of the church during the service. Our row is full of our family and extended (not biological) family. It's hard to explain, but they are our family. Enough said there.

Anyway - back to my point. Today I felt rotten and slept through Sunday school (literally - at home in my own bed), and I actually arrived at church after the service started. Because I didn't feel well, I decided to stay in the back of the church rather that sit in my usualy row. I did this so that I could leave if necessary without drawing too much attention to myself. I discovered some things while sitting in the back pew.

1. My husband's preaching is great no matter where I sit.
2. There are some people in the back few rows who sit there to make a quick, unnoticed entrances and exits.
3. The music is slightly muffled in the back pew because the balcony juts out over the top of the back rows. This is not a good thing.
4. It is hard not to notice what other people are doing when I sit that far back. This is something that I knew intutively, but now I know it for real.
5. I like the front of the church better than the back - I felt like I wasnt really there.

Living in Community

I want to start off by saying "thank you" to Sarah at lifeintheparsonage.blogspot.com for inspiring me to return to this way of life - the blogging life. :) It is good. I'm trying, trying, trying to make this a nightly routine.

Tonight is not a unique night. My husband is away in Chicago (most Thursdays he is somewhere - FreedomWorks usually), we picked up the Spears youngest 2 from their softball game (they lost - sad news), Siah played capture the flag at Loring with the neighborhood led by the gym teacher there, and Beth and I made a quick trip to the St. Louis Park library to grab something for listening while driving. Then the fun began. Trinette (neighbor across the street) and Beth played text tag, and it ended with Beth and Trinette bopping over to the Afgani pizza place (Crescent Moon). All are home now - watching the first in the Lord of the Rings series. Another friend or two may stop in at some point after 10 p.m.

My front door and back door are almost always open - and many people know that they are welcome whenever. My house will almost always be on the edge of clean or dirty (not usually in an unhealthy way). My kids will still have first priority over most anyone. We may continue to cook, clean, or pay the bills around our visitors, but time for listening and laughter (or tears) are always here.

While this may scare others, this is just our life. I have always wanted a home that people could just stop in and be themselves - apparently we have that. The only thing that I don't have is the kitchen booth - but my friend Jen has that. :)

It's a good life.

Writing Music and Other Creative Items

Siah (my 12 yr old) has taken up electric guitar; he is getting quite good at a quick pace. He decided to write a song last night, and I love it.

I love the creative element of who God has made us to be. I want to blog. My son wants to write music. My daughter paints and writes poetry. My husband sculpts God's word into images that the congregation takes away each week. We are creative.

We are created in the image of God as creative people. Gardening, putting together gifts, and any other "hidden" or "odd" talent that we have are evidence of our creative nature.

Will we use it for God's glory?

FreedomWorks

Tonight I had an amazing opportunity to hear about a ministry here in Minneapolis - FreedomWorks. It's a ministry to men who have been incarcerated and released. The ministry focuses on mentoring, providing them with a life (home, job search help, transportation), and fellowship.

It was a great informational night.

But it was also a great night to remember what Christ has done for us. One of the comments in the informational video really hit me: "At first I thought we were miles apart, but then I realized that we are not that different." In other words, we are all sinners (Romans 3:23), and we are all in need of a Savior (Romans 6:23; John 3:16).

I think something that bugs me "in the church" is that we think of ourselves as the "in" crowd and view people outside of the church as "those people." We forget that we are all in need of a Savior. The fact that I might have realized that only places more burden on me - it doesn't make me any better than anyone else. This past weekend, I spoke at a camp, and I made the comment that sin is sin - it doesn't matter if I am late to work or murder my neighbor - sin is sin in God's eyes.

While these men coming out of prison certainly need a Savior and need fellowship to help them keep from heading back to a life of crime, I think there is a lot we all can learn from them. In order for any of us to keep from sinning more or "returning" to our life prior to Christ, we need to be honest and open with each other about our struggles.

These men that FreedomWorks support have an advantage over many of us - their crimes are public record. What if my sins were public record? Would I be better off? To a certain extent, I think I would be...especially if others around me surrounded me with love and mentoring and prayer.

Thankful

I have spent the better part of the past week on the road and without my family. That is not the part that I'm thankful for...I really can't wait to be with them all on Tuesday!!!
-Wed/Thurs: Siren, WI for work
-Fri/Sat/Sun: Village Creek Bible Camp
-Sun/Mon/Tues: Brainerd, MN for work

This morning I woke up in an unbelievable bed (with GREAT pillows) and a decent lake view. I attended a few sessions at the conference, presented, and then crashed for the afternoon. I'm headed back to bed now (still early for me!!).

I'm so thankful that God provides rest when we aren't able to create it for ourselves. Why is He so kind to me? To provide a great room with a great bed to spend the day resting - that is care.

Nearly three months have passed

Wow...I have not blogged for nearly 3 months. And the last time I blogged, I had just returned FROM camp. Tonight, I am actually blogging AT camp! :)

I just happened upon a new blog (lifeintheparsonage.blogspot.com), and it has inspired me. Actually - one of the worship team members told me about the blog. Anyway - after reading the blog posts, I am inspired...to try to blog more frequently and less "in depth." I know, Billie Jo, you told me this 3 months ago. :) Yes, thanks.

I am wiped out tonight, and I am heading to bed soon. Jen Woyke and I have been the speakers this weekend at camp; I finished up tonight - she has to deal with Sunday morning. :)

Our topic was great; what to do when life doesn't go the way you expected. Finding joy in the midst of the trials...that is a hard topic.

The ending thoughts:

So when life doesn’t look the way we think it should…
-Don’t despair because God is in control and has a plan
-Remember that we don’t praise God because of our circumstances; we praise Him because He is God
-Remember that God redeems
-Know that Jesus Loves Me

Blogging

I really love to blog. I do. But I don't get to it. Or I don't make time for it. Or I write posts that I then refuse to publish because they might seem too out of character for a pastor's wife.

I haven't blogged for exactly one month.

In that month, my children have each had a birthday. They are now 12 and 13. Josiah's birthday ended 13 minutes ago. He is now 12. My baby is 12 years old. That makes me "not young" anymore. I have decided that I am not concerned with my own age nearly as much as I am concerned with the ages of my children.

In that month, we have had several pressing things...some of which can't be shared on this blog because of confidentiality issues. But they have been time consuming and emotionally consuming...and when they are on my mind, it is hard to blog about something else.

We just went to camp this past weekend. That was well-needed. I need to get off of my computer more often, spend quality time with my children more often, and sleep well more often.

While blogging pushes me to think about things in a critical, filtered way, it also seems so public that I'm not sure about it anymore...

Life Happens Today

I've had several conversations with different people lately about their lives. There seems to be a pervading similarity: they are all waiting for "something" to happen so that life can start. These somethings are part of a typical list such as the following:
*turning 16
*turning 18
*graduating from high school
*going to college
*graduating from college
*getting a job
*finding a spouse
*getting into grad school
*graduating from grad school

You get the point.

The problem with all of these somethings is that they are not an end to themselves entirely nor are they simply the means to the end. In between and during the somethings life is happening today.

When Kerry was in graduate school, we always said that we couldn't wait until he was done with school so that life would be different (better, slower, faster, etc.). What we realized at some point was that life is the life that it is today. Waiting for the next something around the corner to make life happen or be better is not worth the time spent thinking about it - because it is time wasted in the present.

What are we going to do today to make life happen? Who are we going to notice, whose life will we touch? Life happens today. I want every moment to count.

Fever 1793 by Laura Halse Anderson

If you have not happened upon the young adult lit author Laura Halse Anderson, your life is not quite as blessed. Anderson has a unique ability to write from an insightful teen mind. If one wants to understand how some teens think, this author will provide it.

A couple of Anderson's other books, such as Speak and Twisted, really get into some areas of teen life that are difficult for adults to even consider. As a mother, reading Speak was hard on me because my daughter is in 7th - only two years younger than the main character. Twisted, while enlightening to see how 17 year old boys think, was also difficult content.

Fever 1793 is unique because the teen in the novel is a historically ficticious teen. The struggles that she encounters are unlike anything that you would find in contemporary teen lives, yet seeing the tragedy in Phildephia from the teenage girl's perspective is highly engaging. It reminds me that 14 year old girls could be so much more than we are currently asking them to be. Tragedy allows this to happen.

Life without Children? Can't imagine it....

I have become a fan of another great blog: http://themommyrevolution.com/

I encourage everyone to check it out, especially if you are a mom or a friend of a mom. :) Two friends have paired up to write about "mom" type things. I know one of the women (Carla). They talk about a lot of things, and often they disagree. In the latest post, Caryn shared her thoughts about how being a mom for her means having lost some of her spontanaeity. That may be too brief of a summary, so I invite you to read it for yourself.

I shared some thoughts, and it really turned out to be a long bunch of thoughts that I thought I should keep a record of and share with my friends. I don't really think that this is a "grass greener" issue but rather an understanding of two roads diverging in a yellow wood (Frost).

As someone whose dreams hadn’t really even taken full form yet (except the one about marrying the best man in my life) when the honeymoon “took” and a premie child entered my life 8 months and 4 days after the wedding, I have lived in this world of wondering what it’s like without children for nearly all of my adult life. Perhaps having children right away (yes, the second one followed 12 months and 2 weeks later) was God’s way of sheltering me from KNOWING what it would be like without them. I tend to be a rather selfish person. Life is all about me, and I like it that way. The fastest cure to this deep-rooted selfishness is not marriage but motherhood...actually, pregnancy alone will do it.

Let's face it, the act of becoming pregnant is rather short-lived in comparison to the results of that act. At various points in both of my pregnancies, I was quite sure that an alien had invaded my body and desired things to eat that I didn't like previously. First came the invasions - and then the doctor surgically removed the aliens; we named the first one Elizabeth and the second one Josiah - but the invasion into my womb was just the start of things. These precious little things invaded every part of my being, and I had to consider their needs before mine. There was little time to think about what could be after them or instead of them. I had to learn rather quickly that I had to consider what I could do with them and around them.

I’ve learned that my dreams must coincide with my family’s life, but they are not necessarily defined by the family members themselves. I certainly understand that life with children must be different than life without - yet, I rarely feel cheated or jealous. I don’t think I’m an odd duck. It's a covenant relationship for us all, really. By being part of a family, we give up certain rights to our "personal" dreams so that the family unit can best be served. And that choice can be hard at times when our selfish selves kick in - when we are not communicating well with one another, or when we choose to hide our authentic selves from the rest of the family.

I don't think that we have to give up our bucket lists when we have a family. We need to ensure that the dreams of all be analyzed and followed when possible. Perhaps the cruise has to wait a few years, but the cruise can happen.

The people who my children are and who they are becoming have the likelihood to be the very people with whom I would spontaneously head to some far-off place. I don’t just love them because they are my children, I like them. They are bright and full of the desire to learn. Many times, I prefer them to some of the adults in the world who have stopped asking important questions about life and God.

My dreams take flight best with the smiling faces of my children and husband behind me. We are in this thing called life together, and that profit is worth the loss of any dream I may have concocted alone. When the two roads diverged, I chose this path - the one that included my family.

"And that has made all the difference" (Frost).

**Note: Speaking of diverging, I think that I did exactly that. Please be sure to read themommyrevolution.com to see if I even stayed anywhere close to their point.

**Second note: Please do not interpret this blog as saying that a married with children life is the preferred life (even if society has chosen to primarily view it as such) over being single. Wherever one finds oneself - make the most of that situation!