nachos from heaven

Last summer, her world fell apart. One of my dear friends got up one day like every other day, and by the end of it, her life was crumbled up around her.

So we did what we have done for years, my friend and I. We headed to Chilis for nachos and a heart-to-heart. But when we got there, the nachos were gone. Off the menu. Replaced with “new and improved” nachos.

Only they were not improved. Just different.

And when your world us falling down, sometimes you just want the same, old nachos.

Last night, this same friend and I met at Chilis. She’s facing a tough week with so much strength and faith and dignity, it makes me cry. And when we opened the menu, there it was: classic nachos.

I know in the grand scheme of things, it’s no big deal. But it was a big deal. The cheesy concoction between us, we enjoyed sweet, comforting communion. And while I don’t think God is off finding me close parking spots at the Walmart, I do think He sent us those nachos. In all things, God is with us.

missing out

I really wanted to give the kids ice cream cones tonight.

It was hot. 84 degrees to be exact. The kids were playing outside, running in the sprinkler and making our play structure into a “water slide.” It was the first real water play of the season, and all three boys were loving it.

I served dinner outside to my soggy boys, and thought to myself I’ll let them play a bit more, then give them ice cream cones before they come in for showers.

That was the plan anyway.

I cleared the dinner dishes and was taking out the garbage when it began.

“He pushed me!”

“He put water on my face!”

“Mom! He pushed me again!”

The fighting and bickering and rude talk continued, even after a warning. So in they went for showers. No ice cream cones tonight.

And I was disappointed. I really wanted to watch them enjoy the first drippy, all-over-their-tummies ice cream cone of the season. They never knew about the ice cream, so they weren’t disappointed. But I was. I wanted to bless them, but had to hold back because of their behavior.

I wonder how often God feels this way about me? If you follow this blog at all, you know I’m a big believer in grace. God doesn’t treat any of us as we deserve, but instead, lavishes grace on us, in spite of us.

And yet I’m sure there are times when He holds back His blessing, just waiting for me to give up my stubborn pride and stop bickering already so He can bless me. I'm sure there are times I've missed out because of my selfishness or arrogance or addictions.

And God just waits. He wants to bless us and He waits.

Thank goodness for ice-cream-cones-tomorrow kind of grace.

I need you

“Mommy, I need you!” The toddler grabs my cheeks in his hands and pulls my face toward his.

“Mom? Can you help me?” Twin A. calls out an hour later. With his broken arm, it’s hard to navigate the dark upstairs to use the bathroom.

Never mind that it’s the middle of the night.

Have you ever noticed how children don’t ever consider what may be convenient for a parent? They never think, “Wow. It’s 2 a.m. Maybe I should just try to deal with this terrible nightmare by myself.” Of course not. (Or at least not in my house!) They cry and call out for mom or dad, and one of us shows up at their bedside.

I’m so reluctant to ask for help from anyone—friend, neighbor, even God Himself. I try to do as much as I can on my own before I even think to ask for help. And yet I believe God delights in our childlike trust when we call out to Him first.

I didn’t do much for the toddler in the middle of the night. I let him hold my face for a few minutes as he said, “I need you, I need you, I need you.” I told him he’d be fine and gave him a kiss and told him to go back to sleep. That’s all.

Sometimes it’s enough just to know we’re not alone—especially when we feel needy.

How can you reach out for help this week? Do you trust that God will be present with you as you cry out to Him?

blessing

We’ve had quite a bit of excitement around our house. Too much, really. Thankfully, things have settled down. Twin A. is healing just fine, and doing great. (Thank you for praying, friends.)

I’m at one of my favorite writing retreats ever, hosted by The Writing Academy. This community of writers has blessed me in too many ways to count. And it truly is a community—they’ve been meeting together every year for over thirty years. And still they welcome me warmly into their community and put up with all my talk of blogs and twitter and networking.

During open mic night, I timidly read a chapter from the young adult novel I’m working on. (I scanned it carefully to make sure there were no swear words!) I didn’t dare look up, but when I finally did, people were wiping away tears and grinning. The next person got up to read and gestured to me and declared, “This is the future of the Academy!”

No pressure.

The theme this weekend is “Apples of Gold,” taken from Proverbs 25:11. (A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.) As a part of the weekend, we were each given thirty beautiful stamped note cards and asked to write a word of encouragement for each of our fellow WAMS.

I just finished reading mine, and…I’m speechless. Oh, the power that exists in our words. Power to bless or curse. Today, the blessing overwhelms me.

Surround yourself today by people who can speak a word of life into your soul. And through your words, breathe life into the people around you. You will be blessed.

pain

One day at a time. This is our motto around here. Along with, this will not last forever.

Twin A. is still uncomfortable whenever he moves. We’re managing the pain as well as we can, and doing lots of deep breathing to try to relax. Last night he told me the fear of the pain is actually worse than the pain itself. He has been through so much.

The Llama Papa took our other two boys on to the family reunion campout in Michigan. (God bless him.) A. is sad to miss it, but has no desire to drive 3+ hours, even if we stay in a hotel. We’ve promised him a campout when he recovers.

And today is the toddler’s third birthday. For the last six months, he’s been talking about his “birthday party on the camping trip.” So I loaded him down with Elmo partyware and wrapped presents, and expect that he’ll fully enjoy his special day today. And, of course, we’ll have another party at home sometime next week. But in the quiet of this morning, can I just admit to you all that I’m hating this? Those of you who know The Toddler personally know that he is a bundle of energy and personality, and absolutely delightful. I hate missing his camping birthday party. Happy birthday, little buddy. Mommy can’t wait to throw you another birthday bash and watch your face light up with each new surprise.

The hardest part of this whole thing has been watching Twin A. in pain and being unable to fully take it away. Or worse, actually causing the pain. A few times a day, I need to help A. elevate his arm. It hurts to get in this position, but is essential for his healing. Moving him around while he cries for me to stop is the hardest thing I’ve had to do as a mom.

I’ve thought more than once about how God must feel with me at times, pushing me to look at places that are painful while I scream “stop!” And yet He knows what’s best for me. I believe this. And just like my heart skips a beat when A. chooses to trust me, even though it’s going to hurt, I have to believe God is thrilled when we choose to trust Him just a little bit more.

One of the things I’m most thankful for are the seeds of faith planted in A.’s heart. In the most difficult moments, he says, “I want to pray.” He told me he wishes God would just magically heal his arm, even though he knows that’s not how it usually works. We’ve talked about what God HAS promised us: that He’ll always be with us, no matter what.

So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

I’m also thankful for incredible friends and neighbors, who keep sending cards and dropping by with goodies and movies and games. And I’m incredibly thankful for my friend, S., who has some downtime before her classes start, and offered to come stay with us for a few days. I can’t imagine this past few days without her, honestly.

God is good. God is faithful. God is trustworthy.

This is what we’re learning over here…well, that and that malt chip blizzards from DQ are really, really good.

unexpected

What a day.

I’m sitting here next to Twin A. writing on my laptop while he sleeps comfortably in his bed. At the hospital.

Not where we thought we’d be tonight.

We were at my sister-in-law’s house and the cousins were all playing on the playground across the street from her house when A. fell off the monkey bars and started screaming bloody murder. He broke / dislocated his arm. I won’t describe the break here except to say that it was really bad.

(Llama Papa actually passed out while the ER doc examined A. For about thirty minutes, I was afraid he would be admitted too! Thankfully, he's fine.)

Long story short, I’m here with my boy after a long day at the hospital and surgery to put his arm back together again. (With three pins!) His surgeon anticipates a full recovery.

I feel like I should say something profound, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. I can't rehash the details of the day's events, not yet. This mama is exhausted—physically and emotionally. I feel like I need to just crawl into the corner and cry for a good long while, preferably with a large stash of chocolate, but that will have to wait.

So until then, I’ll just say that I’m grateful for my amazing family, who steps in without being asked and does whatever needs to be done. (Including putting my toddler down for his nap and showing Twin B. such a grand time!) I’m grateful for good healthcare and health insurance. And in this moment, I’m grateful for the quiet of this hospital room, and the grace that’s been here with us all day. God is good.

isn't that the way?

My basement is one big pile today. We’re getting ready for a garage sale with friends this weekend, and using the opportunity to really clear things out. Not only baby toys, but toddler toys too. (Our toddler doesn’t need two sit-and-spins, two rocking chairs…the list goes on.)

And you can guess what the toddler is doing right now as I write this: playing in the basement.

All of the toys he hasn’t looked at for a year seem oh so exciting now that they’re in the garage sale pile.

I can relate. It’s hard to let go of the stuff of life, even when I know I don’t need it. I don’t tend to hold onto things as much as I do emotions. It’s hard to let go of those, even when they hurt me and the people around me. Anger, grudges, even sadness sometimes feel like a warm security blanket. But I know that in order to make room for emotions like joy and contentment, I need to let go of some of the other stuff.

And like the big pile of stuff sitting in my basement, I know I won’t miss it when it’s gone.

first humbling moment of 2009

The toddler had an unfortunate run in with a cement floor earlier this week and as a result, has a black and blue eye. As in, it looks like he’s been beaten up. Badly.

Yesterday I needed to run to the store for a few things, and brought the toddler with me.

That was mistake #1.

Every time I turned around, a new stranger was smiling at my child saying, “Oh my goodness! What happened to your eye?” I smiled back and explained the fall, trying my best not to look like a child abuser or neglectful parent.

In the meantime, the toddler was busy wreaking havoc in the produce section. First, he wanted to walk. Fine. Then he wanted to sit in the basket of the cart, which just never works out, so I said no.

That was mistake #2.

Have I mentioned that the toddler is two-and-a-half now?

You already know what happens next. The screaming and crying and full blown temper tantrum because he’s not getting what he wants. I calmly picked him up and wrestled him into the cart seat and strapped him in while strangers stopped to stare at the abusive mother in the produce aisle.

It was a proud moment.

I handled it the way any self-respecting mother would—I strapped him in and gave him a chocolate donut.

(I know, I know. This is not a good way to handle a temper tantrum. But we’re talking extenuating circumstances here.)

And what better way to ring in the New Year than with a reminder to not judge others? I rarely know the whole story of what’s really going on with someone else—or their kids.

Grace. If there’s one word to define my life for 2009, I pray that this is the one. We all need more of it.