This is the one where I expose the mischievous shenanigans of my step dad. Tom...or as we lovingly call him Pop.
Pop is famous for interpreting directions exactly like he wants. He treats commands or orders as suggestions, not as guidelines to ensure good results. Most of the time I believe he has earned this right...after all he is well....over the hill.
With his recent hip replacement we had hoped that he would be more inclined to at least make a shallow effort to obey the doctors orders. Ever heard of a shot in the dark, or dashed hopes, shattered dreams...yes...those would be the words we could use to describe our disappointment when we realized Pop hobbled to the beat of a different drum.
On Monday we thought the physical therapist was coming. The allotted time came and went and finally we gave up. Pop wanted to walk around outside...which was a great idea...but remember the embankment where Pam and I planted 1000 shrubs? That's where he wanted to walk to show me some fresh mulch he had just sent through the wood chipper. Well, there was no telling him no, so I walked right beside him so he wouldn't fall. We got up to the top of the hill when we heard a car coming down the dirt driveway. The therapists!!!! Oh No!!!! How was Pop or I going to explain how and why Pop was on top of the hill......we both knew we were in trouble and Pop came down that mountain in record speed....just in time to meet the car in the driveway....only.....it was the exterminator. Exterminators don't really care if you're on the top of the hill. Exterminators are not the same as physical therapists.
I thought maybe he had learned his lesson. But after the exterminator left, Pop needed to go get some meds at the pharmacy. So, Pam and I needed to go by the store to pick up a few groceries, so we loaded up and took him to the pharmacy while we were out. We finished quickly at the pharmacy...but when I put the Expedition in reverse, he told me to take a left, he needed to go to Lowe's to get some paint. Really? I don't think a jaunt through the store is what the Dr. ordered....but I dropped him at the curb and Pam walked him through the store to get the paint. I circled around and they were ready to go.
When we arrived home, I thought he would just let us take the paint down to the shed. But no, he wanted to hide the paint from Nancy Jo like it was an illegal drug. He suggested behind the tires....Pam and I were cracking up....how about we just leave it in the car for later? I felt like we were aiding a criminal. And later on he even confessed that he had the same paint in his shop....hmmmm guess he just needed a Lowe's fix!
While Pop was extremely entertaining with his antics, Pam and I provided endless possibilities to entertain him....especially when we were hauling the 6000 pound potting shed up the side of Mt. St. Helens. He was cracking up at the way we finagled that thing. (see Part 1 for more details on the potting shed).
Pop enjoyed the meals prepared for him during the week. Bringing your own caterer with you has its advantages. We created some fantastic Pop favorite meals. I'm not sure I can ever go back without Pam. Pan crusted chicken, pasta, sautéed green beans, fresh corn, rutabaga patties, bacon and brussell sprouts, sautéed onions, baked beans, asparagus and more. Delicious!
We enjoyed supervising Pop for a few days....although I'm pretty sure he did exactly what he wanted anyway...but we enjoyed hearing his stories, jokes and redneck humor. He also gave us birdhouse lessons and showed us all his new creations. What a gift he is to our family!
Monday, July 15, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Work Camp - Georgia Style! Part 2
So after dinner on the first day of Work Camp, feeling pretty proud of ourselves, Nancy Jo (aka Mom) announced that she didn't have to go into work until 2 the next day. So this meant that she would be joining us for the first part of our second work day. Which was also code for "If you think you were going to do anything halfway....think again."
We rolled out of bed at 7:18ish and crawled our weary, achy bodies to the kitchen, where coffee and diet coke were stocked...(now that I think about it, she was probably putting something in our drinks to make us giddy with delight to be working again). We plopped down at the table, just in time to see Nancy Jo was already outside. Good grief woman! You must be taking your vitamins!!!
We both opted to skip breakfast and headed outside, where mom was eyeing the placement of the potting bench that we had moved yesterday (see Part 1 of this saga). A little to the left, a little to the right, out just a little bit, right there...just a smidge this way.... Finally we got it right where she wanted it and then we painted it radiant red. We also painted a smaller potting bench to match it. At this point the humidity was like 10000%. I wondered if the paint would dry before we left on Friday.
Then she introduced us to 60 or so of her favorite plant friends that needed to be planted....but before they could be planted she needed a few other plants dug up and replanted on the bank in the backyard. Have you ever dug up and replanted juniper? Yeah, me neither...until now. Pam did most of this work because she is like the amazon woman and can handle a pointed shovel like no other lady I've ever met. I started on the smaller shrubs and moving the lantana that mom wanted placed elsewhere. Did I mention this was all taking place on a 75 degree angle bank? And that it had been pouring down rain for the last week? And that the dirt in Georgia is red like clay? And that the pine straw mulch is slippery like wet spinach when it's wet?
We slipped and slid all over the place all morning long. Oh and then there's the small issue of the poison ivy and mosquitoes and tics that decided to attack us with a vengeance. Yep, more on that later.
We were almost through with most of the planting when the sky fell out. For the first few minutes I believed it was going to just roll over so we stayed out and planted a few more things, cleaned up around the freshly painted potting bench (and yes, it was getting wet in the rain) gathered trash, picked up tools and then we ran for cover like chickens being chased by a pitch fork. We looked pitiful.
We sat comfortably on the front porch enjoying the completed project of yesterday...waiting for the rain to pass. Mom went in to get ready for work, Pop had physical therapy and finally the rain stopped. Only by this time, I was needed as a chauffeur for Pop to go to the store. So, Pam finished planting the cursed juniper and I headed for the shower.
This was where I discovered my first tic. Yes, the blood-sucking, skin pinching bug. This was also where I became aware of the itchiness on my face and arms. This was where I realized that while I might have skipped breakfast, the mosquitoes had made quite a meal of me.
By the time I took Pop to the store and got home, Pam was in the same shape as me...itchy. She drugged up on Benadryl and practically bathed in Dawn dishwashing detergent. I waited on the Benadryl but lathered up with the Dawn and applied some ant-itch cream. Seriously, I'm still itching. Right now. Itch. Itch. Itch. Someone suggested I might need a good flea dip. I'm thinking about it.
By the time mom returned home from work, the yard looked pretty good. Pam had gotten things mulched with more dry pine straw. We had things picked up. Dinner was ready and we were too drugged to remember much of anything. Frankly at that point I was on auto pilot.
The rest of the trip....the parts about actually taking care of my step dad are coming soon. But to ignore the enormous amount of work that transpired during this visit would have been a travesty. Like missing your favorite I Love Lucy episode. I liken the work we accomplished similar to that which a small army does over the course of 2 weeks. Get a coupla women together with a vision and a little gumption and see how soon they can get it done!
Here's a few pictures:
We rolled out of bed at 7:18ish and crawled our weary, achy bodies to the kitchen, where coffee and diet coke were stocked...(now that I think about it, she was probably putting something in our drinks to make us giddy with delight to be working again). We plopped down at the table, just in time to see Nancy Jo was already outside. Good grief woman! You must be taking your vitamins!!!
We both opted to skip breakfast and headed outside, where mom was eyeing the placement of the potting bench that we had moved yesterday (see Part 1 of this saga). A little to the left, a little to the right, out just a little bit, right there...just a smidge this way.... Finally we got it right where she wanted it and then we painted it radiant red. We also painted a smaller potting bench to match it. At this point the humidity was like 10000%. I wondered if the paint would dry before we left on Friday.
Then she introduced us to 60 or so of her favorite plant friends that needed to be planted....but before they could be planted she needed a few other plants dug up and replanted on the bank in the backyard. Have you ever dug up and replanted juniper? Yeah, me neither...until now. Pam did most of this work because she is like the amazon woman and can handle a pointed shovel like no other lady I've ever met. I started on the smaller shrubs and moving the lantana that mom wanted placed elsewhere. Did I mention this was all taking place on a 75 degree angle bank? And that it had been pouring down rain for the last week? And that the dirt in Georgia is red like clay? And that the pine straw mulch is slippery like wet spinach when it's wet?
We slipped and slid all over the place all morning long. Oh and then there's the small issue of the poison ivy and mosquitoes and tics that decided to attack us with a vengeance. Yep, more on that later.
We were almost through with most of the planting when the sky fell out. For the first few minutes I believed it was going to just roll over so we stayed out and planted a few more things, cleaned up around the freshly painted potting bench (and yes, it was getting wet in the rain) gathered trash, picked up tools and then we ran for cover like chickens being chased by a pitch fork. We looked pitiful.
We sat comfortably on the front porch enjoying the completed project of yesterday...waiting for the rain to pass. Mom went in to get ready for work, Pop had physical therapy and finally the rain stopped. Only by this time, I was needed as a chauffeur for Pop to go to the store. So, Pam finished planting the cursed juniper and I headed for the shower.
This was where I discovered my first tic. Yes, the blood-sucking, skin pinching bug. This was also where I became aware of the itchiness on my face and arms. This was where I realized that while I might have skipped breakfast, the mosquitoes had made quite a meal of me.
By the time I took Pop to the store and got home, Pam was in the same shape as me...itchy. She drugged up on Benadryl and practically bathed in Dawn dishwashing detergent. I waited on the Benadryl but lathered up with the Dawn and applied some ant-itch cream. Seriously, I'm still itching. Right now. Itch. Itch. Itch. Someone suggested I might need a good flea dip. I'm thinking about it.
By the time mom returned home from work, the yard looked pretty good. Pam had gotten things mulched with more dry pine straw. We had things picked up. Dinner was ready and we were too drugged to remember much of anything. Frankly at that point I was on auto pilot.
The rest of the trip....the parts about actually taking care of my step dad are coming soon. But to ignore the enormous amount of work that transpired during this visit would have been a travesty. Like missing your favorite I Love Lucy episode. I liken the work we accomplished similar to that which a small army does over the course of 2 weeks. Get a coupla women together with a vision and a little gumption and see how soon they can get it done!
Here's a few pictures:
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Work Camp - Georgia Style! Part 1
Sometimes I volunteer for things before I really think the whole process through.
When I found out the dates for my step dad's hip replacement surgery and the time it would take for him to recoup, I decided that a trip to Georgia might be in order while the kids and Bruce were away at camp for a week. I asked a friend to go with me so I wouldn't have to drive all that way by myself, she agreed and we packed our suitcases full of comfy clothes, books, snacks and various electronic devices to keep us connected with those we love.
I'm sure that at this point God was looking down from heaven shaking His head and chuckling.
Seems Nancy Jo (my mom, who I usually respectfully call "Mom", until this trip) had a few other things in mind.
When we arrived at the cabin at 1:30 in the morning, we got a quick snack and headed to bed, with plans to talk in the morning about any specifics she needed to discuss with us before she went off to work. I swear I saw a little twinkle of mischief in her eye.
The next morning she cooked a nice breakfast, cleaned up to go to work and then we met for a meeting at the table. In my mind we were going to discuss Pop's medicine schedule, his PT regime, his hardheadedness, dinner plans, errands that might need to be run. I didn't see it coming...the sly way she inched her way into talking about the porch....
"How do you think a pop of color would look on the porch?" She asks, knowing I have an opinion...and so my friend, Pam, and I jumped right into her trap...spouting off color schemes and techniques and ideas. And so began our downhill demise and what I am now lovingly calling Work Camp - Georgia Style.
Day 1 of Work Camp also included moving this little darlin' from the back side of Pop's shop up to the cabin so Nancy Jo would have a nice spot to do her planting.
Let me give you the back story. The back side of Pop's shed is a scary place. The fact that one of his dogs has been bitten by a snake two times in the last 3 months should give you a pretty good idea of why two smart women should not be trying to move anything remotely located to it -150 feet, uphill, to the other side of the cabin. But we're talking about Pam and I and between the two of us we have never said no to something anyone said was impossible, so Pam started cleaning off the bench...which was covered in a hoarder's heaven of potting containers and gardening essentials.....and containers filled with rank rain water that had been there since the flood...yes, the one Noah was in.
I headed up to trim back the hydrangea bush and came back 10 minutes later. I approached the site with caution since it smelled like something had shrivelled up and died. In fact, I half expected to see one of the boxer puppies laying dead on the ground. As I gasp for air, Pam and I finished pouring out buckets and finally reached the end of the breeding ground for reptiles of all stages and ages. Now all we had to do was move this potting bench uphill to the spot near the hydrangeas. Easy? Of course not.
Wet wood is 1000 times heavier than dry wood. So, the bulky bench was not only rank with the sour water smell, it was heavy and bulky. Pam and I were tossing that thing around the yard like a dog with a piece of meat. It's a wonder it made it to that spot in one piece. Now that I think about it, it's a wonder that Pam and I were still in one piece after we moved it! Not only was it heavy but the ground was slick from all the rain and Pam and I were slipping and sliding all over the place.
We got it all situated. Rinsed it off. Went back down to the shop where we had left a mess and cleaned that up....and there were the pups (two years old...not really pups) drinking the rank rain water. (Yep...that's gross.) One of them had rolled around in it. (They aren't super smart.) We shooed them away and Pop yelled at them and told us it smelled like "Pig Poo" out there. At that point, I was sure I was going to toss my cookies. We were just about done cleaning up, where Clara Bell (Pup), tossed hers all over Pop's shop floor. Cleanup on aisle 4. Could this get anymore nasty?
Shortly after that, it started raining. Pam and I planted ourselves on the front porch admiring our work and feeling pretty good. A soft breeze blew through the air...and as we sipped our ice water and iced tea, we exhaled and inhaled the intoxicating fresh rank rain water air as it whiffed by.
We were too tired to care...and frankly I was pretty sure I was soaked with the odiferous water anyway...so it didn't really matter!
PS- Nancy Jo was super excited to see her new porch...which meant she had more ideas for us for other areas of her yard. Which meant that Day 2 of Work Camp is coming soon to a blog near you! And no matter what you might think...Pam and I really enjoyed taking care of these things for mom...it was almost as nice as sitting around in our comfy clothes, checking out pinterest, eating fun snacks and nodding off randomly....almost, but not exactly.
When I found out the dates for my step dad's hip replacement surgery and the time it would take for him to recoup, I decided that a trip to Georgia might be in order while the kids and Bruce were away at camp for a week. I asked a friend to go with me so I wouldn't have to drive all that way by myself, she agreed and we packed our suitcases full of comfy clothes, books, snacks and various electronic devices to keep us connected with those we love.
I'm sure that at this point God was looking down from heaven shaking His head and chuckling.
Seems Nancy Jo (my mom, who I usually respectfully call "Mom", until this trip) had a few other things in mind.
When we arrived at the cabin at 1:30 in the morning, we got a quick snack and headed to bed, with plans to talk in the morning about any specifics she needed to discuss with us before she went off to work. I swear I saw a little twinkle of mischief in her eye.
The next morning she cooked a nice breakfast, cleaned up to go to work and then we met for a meeting at the table. In my mind we were going to discuss Pop's medicine schedule, his PT regime, his hardheadedness, dinner plans, errands that might need to be run. I didn't see it coming...the sly way she inched her way into talking about the porch....
"How do you think a pop of color would look on the porch?" She asks, knowing I have an opinion...and so my friend, Pam, and I jumped right into her trap...spouting off color schemes and techniques and ideas. And so began our downhill demise and what I am now lovingly calling Work Camp - Georgia Style.
 |
| Before...porch swing |
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| Before Coffee Table |
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| After coffee table..and hydrangeas from Nancy Jo's yard |
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| Who wouldn't want to spend a few hours swingin' here.... Pillows from Lowe's make this swing extra comfy |
 |
| Here's the pop of color she was hoping for... |
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| On the other side of the porch we added these chairs with a red "pop" of color to tie in the color scheme. |
Let me give you the back story. The back side of Pop's shed is a scary place. The fact that one of his dogs has been bitten by a snake two times in the last 3 months should give you a pretty good idea of why two smart women should not be trying to move anything remotely located to it -150 feet, uphill, to the other side of the cabin. But we're talking about Pam and I and between the two of us we have never said no to something anyone said was impossible, so Pam started cleaning off the bench...which was covered in a hoarder's heaven of potting containers and gardening essentials.....and containers filled with rank rain water that had been there since the flood...yes, the one Noah was in.
I headed up to trim back the hydrangea bush and came back 10 minutes later. I approached the site with caution since it smelled like something had shrivelled up and died. In fact, I half expected to see one of the boxer puppies laying dead on the ground. As I gasp for air, Pam and I finished pouring out buckets and finally reached the end of the breeding ground for reptiles of all stages and ages. Now all we had to do was move this potting bench uphill to the spot near the hydrangeas. Easy? Of course not.
Wet wood is 1000 times heavier than dry wood. So, the bulky bench was not only rank with the sour water smell, it was heavy and bulky. Pam and I were tossing that thing around the yard like a dog with a piece of meat. It's a wonder it made it to that spot in one piece. Now that I think about it, it's a wonder that Pam and I were still in one piece after we moved it! Not only was it heavy but the ground was slick from all the rain and Pam and I were slipping and sliding all over the place.
We got it all situated. Rinsed it off. Went back down to the shop where we had left a mess and cleaned that up....and there were the pups (two years old...not really pups) drinking the rank rain water. (Yep...that's gross.) One of them had rolled around in it. (They aren't super smart.) We shooed them away and Pop yelled at them and told us it smelled like "Pig Poo" out there. At that point, I was sure I was going to toss my cookies. We were just about done cleaning up, where Clara Bell (Pup), tossed hers all over Pop's shop floor. Cleanup on aisle 4. Could this get anymore nasty?
Shortly after that, it started raining. Pam and I planted ourselves on the front porch admiring our work and feeling pretty good. A soft breeze blew through the air...and as we sipped our ice water and iced tea, we exhaled and inhaled the intoxicating fresh rank rain water air as it whiffed by.
We were too tired to care...and frankly I was pretty sure I was soaked with the odiferous water anyway...so it didn't really matter!
PS- Nancy Jo was super excited to see her new porch...which meant she had more ideas for us for other areas of her yard. Which meant that Day 2 of Work Camp is coming soon to a blog near you! And no matter what you might think...Pam and I really enjoyed taking care of these things for mom...it was almost as nice as sitting around in our comfy clothes, checking out pinterest, eating fun snacks and nodding off randomly....almost, but not exactly.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
4 Suitcases
The mess is enormous. Between the clean laundry on the table and the 4 open suitcases at my feet, not to mention scattered Legos and a few pieces from a newly acquired western town set on the floor, life is a little messy.
Bruce and the kids are headed to camp Monday morning, but before they leave, I leave for Georgia to be with my stepdad who has just had hip replacement surgery. I'm driving with a friend who will keep me company and awake as we drive into ATL around 1am Monday morning.
So, that being said, I'm trying to get everyone packed up so that Bruce, bless his heart, won't be responsible for any of the wardrobe choices. He has good intentions...truly he does. But somewhere between orange and fuchsia, the lines of color get blurred and some of his color combinations resemble more cartoonish flavorings than what I like my kids to be wearing. Besides, he has enough responsibilities to take care of today.....getting the car ready for me, buying snacks for the trip, getting the ice chest ready, loading the cars up....
Does anybody else feel like they're moving everytime they go out of town????
Bruce and the kids are headed to camp Monday morning, but before they leave, I leave for Georgia to be with my stepdad who has just had hip replacement surgery. I'm driving with a friend who will keep me company and awake as we drive into ATL around 1am Monday morning.
So, that being said, I'm trying to get everyone packed up so that Bruce, bless his heart, won't be responsible for any of the wardrobe choices. He has good intentions...truly he does. But somewhere between orange and fuchsia, the lines of color get blurred and some of his color combinations resemble more cartoonish flavorings than what I like my kids to be wearing. Besides, he has enough responsibilities to take care of today.....getting the car ready for me, buying snacks for the trip, getting the ice chest ready, loading the cars up....
Does anybody else feel like they're moving everytime they go out of town????
Friday, July 5, 2013
Fourth Fun
It's been 7 weeks since I left Sulphur Springs...until yesterday. I'm not kidding.
I haven't ran (in my car of course) to Greenville or Rockwall or even a mad dash over to the scrapbook store in Winnsboro. Nothing. Nada. Nil.
I'm not sure why. Maybe it's my newfound love for being home. Or my desire to be less of a consumer and more diligent in using what I have. Maybe it's the cost of gas. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't really needed to so why would I? Whatever.
So when Bruce had the day off and we could do anything in the world we wanted to...I made a list of the things my family needed for some upcoming traveling we will be doing and we headed to Rockwall. We ate, shopped, looked and enjoyed our day out on the town.
We got back home just in time to get ready for Taekwondo lessons, where many students are getting ready to go to World Competition (thus, the reason the studio was open). As soon as we finished there, we raced home, changed clothes and surprised the kids with tickets to Despicable Me 2. Cute movie.
Just as we finished the Country Club was setting off fireworks so we were able to enjoy the sky on our way home...the long way of course!
I enjoyed the day more than usual probably. Bruce's phone was quiet, the kids behaved, we found some great bargains, the weather was decent...even had a shower and we ate some good food. If only every day could be so magical...
As we prayed with the kids yesterday, we reminded ourselves of this great country, thankful for the freedoms we still have, thankful for the men and women who stand up for what is right and good and biblical and pray that America will draw near to the heart of God. We are America...we the people...oh that we would draw near to Him. This is my prayer for our America.
I haven't ran (in my car of course) to Greenville or Rockwall or even a mad dash over to the scrapbook store in Winnsboro. Nothing. Nada. Nil.
I'm not sure why. Maybe it's my newfound love for being home. Or my desire to be less of a consumer and more diligent in using what I have. Maybe it's the cost of gas. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't really needed to so why would I? Whatever.
So when Bruce had the day off and we could do anything in the world we wanted to...I made a list of the things my family needed for some upcoming traveling we will be doing and we headed to Rockwall. We ate, shopped, looked and enjoyed our day out on the town.
We got back home just in time to get ready for Taekwondo lessons, where many students are getting ready to go to World Competition (thus, the reason the studio was open). As soon as we finished there, we raced home, changed clothes and surprised the kids with tickets to Despicable Me 2. Cute movie.
Just as we finished the Country Club was setting off fireworks so we were able to enjoy the sky on our way home...the long way of course!
I enjoyed the day more than usual probably. Bruce's phone was quiet, the kids behaved, we found some great bargains, the weather was decent...even had a shower and we ate some good food. If only every day could be so magical...
As we prayed with the kids yesterday, we reminded ourselves of this great country, thankful for the freedoms we still have, thankful for the men and women who stand up for what is right and good and biblical and pray that America will draw near to the heart of God. We are America...we the people...oh that we would draw near to Him. This is my prayer for our America.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
5 Hours at Whataburger
For almost four years I've met with friends at the local Whataburger anytime I thought a meeting and meal would take more than an hour or so. Hey, they're open 24 hours a day, have free diet coke refills and their service is better than most fast food. Of course, you pay for it, but I figure for 5 hours of good, relatively quiet conversation, it's worth it for $10 bucks. Oh...and they have free wifi.
While I enjoy everything that Whataburger has to offer (except the calories), I enjoy this building of relationships that happens over laughter and shared burdens and the familiar exchange of kid stories and recipe disasters. The time flies when you are building and strengthening and nurturing relationships. 5 hours later, we are still sitting there, chatting away, oblivious to the time. It flies by.
It's not much different from our relationship with God. Over time, as we spend more time with Him, that relationship is built, strengthened and nurtured...and as we spend time with Him, it flies by. It's as though there's not enough hours to sit in His presence, chatting, enjoying, delighting.
One thing this summer is teaching me is that every hour of my day can be spent in His presence. His presence isn't limited to the church building or the Sunday School class or the choir rehearsal room or the youth camp or any other physical place. His presence is in us. He is with us all the time as our constant companion and friend. I'm learning to find comfort in the quiet moments that used to make me feel uncomfortable. I'm finding joy in the slowed schedule that gives me time to notice Him in the everyday. And I'm learning to listen to Him as I learn to trust Him more and more.
While I enjoy everything that Whataburger has to offer (except the calories), I enjoy this building of relationships that happens over laughter and shared burdens and the familiar exchange of kid stories and recipe disasters. The time flies when you are building and strengthening and nurturing relationships. 5 hours later, we are still sitting there, chatting away, oblivious to the time. It flies by.
It's not much different from our relationship with God. Over time, as we spend more time with Him, that relationship is built, strengthened and nurtured...and as we spend time with Him, it flies by. It's as though there's not enough hours to sit in His presence, chatting, enjoying, delighting.
One thing this summer is teaching me is that every hour of my day can be spent in His presence. His presence isn't limited to the church building or the Sunday School class or the choir rehearsal room or the youth camp or any other physical place. His presence is in us. He is with us all the time as our constant companion and friend. I'm learning to find comfort in the quiet moments that used to make me feel uncomfortable. I'm finding joy in the slowed schedule that gives me time to notice Him in the everyday. And I'm learning to listen to Him as I learn to trust Him more and more.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Tug of War
I remember playing tug of war at camp as a teenager. Sometimes the leaders would put girls against the guys, or leaders against kids, or young against old. Usually in the middle a line would be drawn...or better yet a muddy pit for the losing team to fall in head over heels. Usually the team that won was the more organized, thoughtful, strategic team. The team that won had someone who took charge, whose voice boomed loudly for all to hear and who had the consistent strength to pull rhythmically in a pattern of heave ho heave ho.
So, after Savannah came to me a few months ago and told me she needed to talk to me about something God was tugging on her heart to do, I began to realize how many times that tugging on our hearts can lead to an all out war with the enemy. Savannah is young in her faith, her heart is tender to pleasing the Lord, she's beginning to ask questions that require more than a chapter and verse answer, she's feeling a little tug of war going on in her spirit.
Her: Mom, I feel God is tugging on my heart to help in Awana next year.
Me: What do you mean?
Her: Well, it's just like when I pray to God at the end of the prayer there's always this thought about Him wanting me to help in Awana.
Me: Do you want to help in Awana?
Her: Well, I think so, I mean, but, I'm not old enough to really do anything big (insert the first tug), and I wouldn't get to sit in church (insert second tug), and I probably wouldn't get to see my friends (tug)....
Me: But if God is tugging on your heart to do something He has something planned that you don't want to miss. Maybe there is someone younger that needs a friend like you? What if you can help a child learn God's Word? What if you can ease the burden of an adult worker who just needs an extra set of hands. What if God has something special for YOU while you serve Him? (insert TUG TUG TUG TUG)
And so it began...the first real struggle I saw take place. Weighing the consequences for following Jesus and responding to His call. I suggested she talk with our children's director at church to see what positions might be available for her to volunteer. We set up an appointment and she went. I wanted her to seek the wise counsel of another trustworthy adult in her life. Mrs. Melinda responded with the appropriate amount of seriousness that ministry requires and the right dose of excitement.
What did Savannah decide? Well, she listened to the loudest voice that was whispering during her prayer time, the one that consistently called her name above all others. The one who had a strategy to capture her heart. Was it easy? No, and while you may think this is insignificant because of her age, I assure you, it has impacted me far more than she will ever know...so maybe, just maybe, this tug of war was more about the spectator. Watching how God wooed her was beautiful. She'll be working with some cute Cubbies in the fall.
As a parent I want to train my kids to recognize the voice of the Holy Spirit. I want them to understand there is a tug of war going on for their soul, for their affections, for their time, talents and bodies. As they get older, some of these decisions will be made with little input from me, so now's the time to do the training. Now's the time to do the work that they will remember:
1. Listen during prayer time...what's God telling/asking of you?
2. Respond to that voice..
3. Tell someone- so you have accountability
4. Seek the counsel of someone older/wiser
5. Evaluate the possibilities
6. Respond to His Call
God uses His children...whether you're 10 or 110. We glorify Him by being available, open and willing to hear and respond to His tugs on our heart...no matter what our age. Will Savannah or me or you always respond correctly?? Doubtful. But knowing how to cope when the all our war for you is going on, is the first step to being a good warrior. Cause nobody plans to fall in the mud pit.
So, after Savannah came to me a few months ago and told me she needed to talk to me about something God was tugging on her heart to do, I began to realize how many times that tugging on our hearts can lead to an all out war with the enemy. Savannah is young in her faith, her heart is tender to pleasing the Lord, she's beginning to ask questions that require more than a chapter and verse answer, she's feeling a little tug of war going on in her spirit.
Her: Mom, I feel God is tugging on my heart to help in Awana next year.
Me: What do you mean?
Her: Well, it's just like when I pray to God at the end of the prayer there's always this thought about Him wanting me to help in Awana.
Me: Do you want to help in Awana?
Her: Well, I think so, I mean, but, I'm not old enough to really do anything big (insert the first tug), and I wouldn't get to sit in church (insert second tug), and I probably wouldn't get to see my friends (tug)....
Me: But if God is tugging on your heart to do something He has something planned that you don't want to miss. Maybe there is someone younger that needs a friend like you? What if you can help a child learn God's Word? What if you can ease the burden of an adult worker who just needs an extra set of hands. What if God has something special for YOU while you serve Him? (insert TUG TUG TUG TUG)
And so it began...the first real struggle I saw take place. Weighing the consequences for following Jesus and responding to His call. I suggested she talk with our children's director at church to see what positions might be available for her to volunteer. We set up an appointment and she went. I wanted her to seek the wise counsel of another trustworthy adult in her life. Mrs. Melinda responded with the appropriate amount of seriousness that ministry requires and the right dose of excitement.
What did Savannah decide? Well, she listened to the loudest voice that was whispering during her prayer time, the one that consistently called her name above all others. The one who had a strategy to capture her heart. Was it easy? No, and while you may think this is insignificant because of her age, I assure you, it has impacted me far more than she will ever know...so maybe, just maybe, this tug of war was more about the spectator. Watching how God wooed her was beautiful. She'll be working with some cute Cubbies in the fall.
As a parent I want to train my kids to recognize the voice of the Holy Spirit. I want them to understand there is a tug of war going on for their soul, for their affections, for their time, talents and bodies. As they get older, some of these decisions will be made with little input from me, so now's the time to do the training. Now's the time to do the work that they will remember:
1. Listen during prayer time...what's God telling/asking of you?
2. Respond to that voice..
3. Tell someone- so you have accountability
4. Seek the counsel of someone older/wiser
5. Evaluate the possibilities
6. Respond to His Call
God uses His children...whether you're 10 or 110. We glorify Him by being available, open and willing to hear and respond to His tugs on our heart...no matter what our age. Will Savannah or me or you always respond correctly?? Doubtful. But knowing how to cope when the all our war for you is going on, is the first step to being a good warrior. Cause nobody plans to fall in the mud pit.
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