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Legacy – Part Two

Jan 20th, 2010 by Amy

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Have you thrown a temper tantrum lately?  I have.  I know what you’re probably thinking:  “That’s something I’d like to see!  Amy throwing a temper tantrum!”  Before you get all excited envisioning my five foot eight frame flailing about on the ground, my meltdown was a little less exuberant.  I didn’t realize at the time that my outburst was, in fact, a temper tantrum until we starting dealing with a succession of bedtime battles with Sydney.

 

Whether it was coming off of the holiday sugar high, or the stress we’ve been under over the past few months, or the fact that Joel was preparing to leave on an eleven-day building trip to Nicaragua with a group from our church, Sydney downright lost it.  And when I say, “lost it”, I mean lost ALL of IT.  Night after night we faced the same drama:  arms and legs twisting and swinging this way and that; blood curdling screams that made our hearts drop to the pits of our stomachs; red-faced angry words that stung and bruised and didn’t make sense all at the same time.  Sydney has always been a challenge, but meltdowns of this proportion are very rare, and this specific behavior hadn’t graced our lives in well over a year. 

 

While Joel was in Nicaragua I begged God for a hiatus from these explosions.  I think He must have had mercy on me, because, while there were still outbursts, they were manageable.  Either that, or He granted me some much needed wisdom and insight in dealing with them properly.  On one such occasion we were driving home from an outing, and it was late.  Sydney started spiraling out of control emotionally.  Instantly I had the good sense to stop her, and in a calm voice ask her what I could do to help.  I said, “Sydney, I can see that you are upset, and I really want to help you.  What is it that I can do for you right now?”  She sniffled and snorted then said, “I can’t think.  I’m crying.”  I replied, “Then, you need to stop crying and start thinking.  I love you and I really do want to help you, but until you stop crying and start thinking, there’s nothing I can do for you.”  It was like magic.  Instantly anger was diffused, muscles relaxed and she quieted down long enough to think and listen.

 

I’m not a super mom, by any means, but by remaining calm and thoughtful in an irrational moment, I was able to safely reign in my emotionally expressive child.  This has made me think a lot about my relationship with God.  While I haven’t been physically thrashing my body in a heated temper tantrum over not getting my way, I have been mindless in my cries to God.  In my head I thought things were supposed to go a certain way, and they didn’t…so rather than stop and find out God’s thoughts on the matter, I’ve whined, cried, questioned, and blubbered out selfish one-way prayers.  Sydney’s tantrums have brought much conviction to me.

 

When I finally drew in a deep breadth and exhaled, God had a chance to speak, to say, “Hey Amy, I really love you and I want to help you, but you need to stop crying first.”  When I stopped crying, and started listening to the still, small voice of my Heavenly Father, He started speaking. 

 

The following four life practices that I will be implementing this year are what I sensed God calling me to do in that quiet moment of reflection:

 

  • Wait (in silence and solitude) – Psalm 46:10 NIV “Be still, and know that I am God.” Isaiah 40:31 KJV “But they that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength; they will mount up with wings as eagles.”  Before I rush out planning and making decisions, I sense that God is quietly urging me to pause – to wait in the stillness of His presence.  Rather than fret and worry, He is calling me to quiet my mind, seek after Him, long for Him, and He will bring clarity, straightforward answers and peace that passes understanding. 

 

  • Delight in the Lord – Psalm 37:4 “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.”  When I begin to delight, cherish and take care of those things that are dear to God, then He, in turn, will do the same for me.  And really, God cares a million times more about my husband, children, daily needs, hopes, heart desires and dreams than I ever could.  (I have a strong feeling I will need to practice this on a daily basis.)

 

  • Thanksgiving – Psalm 50:23 NIV “He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God.”  Sometimes it’s easy to come before God with a heart of thanksgiving; like after a long-awaited prayer has been answered, or everything in life is going our way.  However, there are those times when thanksgiving is a sacrifice.  It doesn’t come natural.  It may even hurt.  You know that scripture, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is the tree of life”?  Well, offering up words of thanks and gratitude to God when the heart is sick is what I believe it means to offer up a sacrifice of thanksgiving.  I believe God is calling me to thank Him even though I have yet to see the longing of my life fulfilled.  In due time, He will make all things beautiful.  I am going to focus on the hope of what is to come, thank Him in advance for it, even if it hurts.

 

  • Sacrificial giving – Psalm 65:11 NIV “You crown the year with your bounty and your carts overflow with abundance.”  Tithing is a no brainer.  God’s Word instructs us to give Him a tenth of our earnings (Deuteronomy 14:22).  When we do so, we are living in obedience.  I don’t believe God to be a tyrant up there in heaven wielding a big stick, ready to swat at anyone who so much dares not tithe.  However, I believe that those who do tithe are in a much better position for favor, blessing and protection than those who don’t.  God is not legalistic, but He has set these instructions before us for our benefit.  When we don’t tithe it only ends up hurting us, not Him.  That said, even while tithing may sometimes feel like a sacrifice, Joel and I believe God is calling us to re-align our finances and give beyond our regular tithes and offerings – to give sacrificially.  Only blessing can be reaped when we give to that which touches our Father’s heart, especially when that giving isn’t an easy thing to do.

 

So, there you have it, in a not-so-little nutshell.  This is only the tip of the iceberg, but a great start to what I hope will be a life well lived – a life bearing fruit, pursuing a dream and leaving a legacy.

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Posted in Faith, Life, Ministry | 2 Comments »

Legacy – Part One

Jan 18th, 2010 by Amy

I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.  Deep thoughts and not-so-deep thoughts alike have been swooshing around in this noggin of mine.  And each time I’ve tried to sit down and start typing them out there would, of course, be some crisis to be addressed – like keeping Jackson company while he sat on the potty for an hour waiting for his “business” to come out into the toilet and not his pull-up, or spending two hours at bedtime dealing with non-stop emotional meltdowns by child #1, or playing referee to a multitude of sibling knock-down-drag-out fights, on top of the day-to-day challenges of raising three kids with the hope that they become well-adjusted, law-abiding, rational adults some day.  Needless to say, time has not been on my side, and the vast majority of my deep musings and insights have completely evaporated in the heat of childrearing.

 

With that said, the following is what has lingered profoundly in my soul amidst the crazies in my life.  It is the thought, the conviction, the goal and where I have zeroed in emotionally, spiritually and cognitively over the past few weeks.  The big question to myself:  What am I leaving behind?  What will be my legacy?

 

A friend of mine wrote on this at the beginning of the month, and it stuck with me, as this was something I, too, had been wrestling with.  When I’m gone, what impression will I have left behind?  What will my husband say of me?  My children?  My friends?  Those God has called me to serve?  Will their words be mere accolades of my sweetness and quick smile?  Or will I have left a fruitful orchard of spiritual substance for my loved ones to feast on long after I’m gone?  My legacy. 

 

I have high hopes for myself, but fear I fall short more often than not.  I lose my patience, hold grudges, compare, whine and complain, and try very hard to justify each one of these offenses, only to end up staring straight into the face of conviction when I sit down to read my Bible.  I wonder if there’s any hope for me?  (And I’m eternally grateful that the answer to that is “YES”!)

 

I had a conversation this week that both challenged and encouraged me.  I was challenged to look at my life in the context of a bigger picture…a God-sized picture.  For a thinking person like myself I find dreaming big to be extremely difficult.  I’m naturally inclined to focus on the here and now…not so much the vastness of what can be.  So, in conjunction with my thoughts on legacy, I sat down and started looking at where I want to see myself down the road, and what it’s going to take for me to get there.  Yes.  I want to leave a cherished and rich legacy behind.  Now, rather that simply writing the story of my today, I am challenging myself to begin writing the story of what can be, what I will be, and how I believe God is going to take me there.

 

In my next post I will share with you the four areas in my life that I have sensed God calling me to go deeper, and how I plan to do so.  I have bigger dreams for my future, but with a keen understanding that big dreams start with small steps – each one building on the next.  For this year I will be incorporating these four things into the DNA of my life, with high hopes that they will become second nature to me, and through them the first step to my dream fulfilled will be realized.

Posted in Faith, Life, Ministry | 1 Comment »

Haiti

Jan 15th, 2010 by Amy

Have you been watching the news lately?  The images of the tragedy taken place in Haiti are sobering.  It is impossible to avoid or ignore, even if you don’t watch t.v., the horrifying destruction and devastation that millions of people are living through right now.

 

I’ve been convicted over the past couple of days that my sorrow and condolences for this nation are simply not enough.  While I don’t have thousands – or even hundreds – of dollars to give, I have realized that I must do something.  However, if I am going to donate I want to make sure of two things:  1.  The organization is legit and viable and 2.  Giving is simple.

 

Here’s one way I found that I can contribute to the cause, and I would encourage you to pray about how/what you, too, can do to reach out:  The U.S. Department of State has recommended texting “HAITI” to 90999.  By doing so you will donate $10 to the American Red Cross.  Thus far  they have received 37 million dollars in donations for the relief effort in Haiti.  While my $10 is a mere drop in the bucket, to say the least, I know every little bit helps. 

 

Beyond the financial need, Haiti needs my prayers too.  And so, even as I write this, I am praying for the people of Haiti.

Posted in Current Events | 1 Comment »

A Taste For Rhinestones and Faux Fur

Jan 12th, 2010 by Amy

If it’s fluffy, shiny or covered in rhinestones my girls are drawn to it like moths to a flame.  It would seem that, while I have poured all of my fashion expertise into their young lives since the day they were born, they have developed their own sense of style.  A sense of style quite contrary to mine – one that prefers a little bling, bling and wild colors to that of warm hues, traditional dresses and coordinating outfit ensembles (with matching hair pieces, I might add).  Try as I might to convince and persuade them to tone down their spicy taste in couture, it is to no avail.   In their small world of pink glitter nail polish and cherry lip smacker Chap Stick, black velvet totally compliments hot pink, sequins and faux fur.  My girls put the “girl” in girlie. 

 

After all these years – all six-and-a-half of them – you would think that I would have learned the valuable lesson of which battles are worth fighting and of which ones to let go.  Usually I’m pretty good at keeping this at the forefront of my mind.  However, the other morning as we were preparing to leave the house for church, my obsessive compulsive controlling nature kicked in to high gear, and I fought for a good thirty minutes with Brooklyn over which coat she was going to wear.  I could have slapped myself silly for blowing such a minor difference of opinion into a full-blown war over appropriate outerwear.  When the grown up rational side of me finally came to, and realized how foolish I was behaving (it’s not like Brooklyn was resisting wearing a coat at all…she just wanted to wear her fluffy, white coat, not her navy, tailored wool coat that I just happen to prefer), I acquiesced and we all left for church smiling…and warm.  Just another example of how far I have to go in this thing called motherhood.

 

066_66To my credit, I’ve come a long way baby!  Two years ago, when Sydney was displaying her strong tendencies for wild and crazy fashion, I struggled to relinquish the tight fisted hold I had on her wardrobe.  Over my dead body would she be permitted to wear red tights with her pastel pink skirt and coral colored track-jacket.  These days, I have learned to simply look the other way when it’s time to lay out their clothes for the morning.  Sometimes I cringe, and have to fight hard, the urge to intervene.  Other times I find myself pleasantly surprised and impressed by some of their outfit choices.  And I am always there to lend a helping hand or suggestion, but only when asked. 

 

What I’ve been learning is just how valuable it is to let go of the little things and allow my kids to develop their own sense of self.  There are boundaries and limits in our home that pertain to the rules of the house, and those are non-negotiable.  However, when it comes to clothes, as long as it’s modest and tasteful, I let them have the control.  Let them figure out how to put it all together.  Let them experience a safe kind of independence and autonomy through dressing themselves. 

 

I’m still working on this, as noted in the earlier part of this post.  The control freak in me still pops up every now and then, and I have to smack her back down with a good dose of “does it really matter?”  Does my daughter’s outfit, or coat, have anything to do with her character development or a core family value?  When the answer is “no” then I have to let it go. 

 

And slowly, but surely, I’m making progress…and so are they.

Posted in Life, Motherhood | 3 Comments »

Bag Lady

Jan 9th, 2010 by Amy

Before I entered the world of motherhood I had some pretty strong (and ignorant, mind you) ideas of what kind of mom I was going to be.  I visualized myself prancing around town toting my offspring in a pristine and crumb-free stroller, with my hair bouncing on my shoulders just like Gwyneth Paltrow and baby Apple.  I was going to get up early every day, shower, do my hair and make-up and would not allow myself to look like the exhausted and haggard moms I spied at the mall, donning their husband’s over-sized t-shirts and worn out sweats, with a multitude of bags hanging from their shoulders and forearms.  Their strollers, encrusted with sticky substances and stale cheerios, grossed. me. out.  I vowed that my children would be forbidden to eat in the stroller, that I would only carry one bag, and I would never be caught dead sporting anything from my husband’s dresser drawers.  My baby would coo and giggle while out and about on our shopping ventures; not scream, cry and throw tantrums like the ones I so often observed parked in goo-infested travel systems outside MiMi’s Maternity Boutique.  I was going to do motherhood right – a one bag, spotless stroller, stylish Mommy, and adorable offspring kind of gal.

 

Let’s flash forward about six years.  I am now the proud mother of three, ages 6, 4 and 3.  Our stroller looks like it’s been pummeled with applesauce and bananas with remnants of saltine crackers wedged into every nook and cranny.  It’s a health hazard.  Try as I did to firmly adhere to the “no food in the stroller” rule, a peaceful shopping experience won out, along with goldfish and mushy fruit.  (Anyone with a baby over the age of six months knows exactly what I’m talking about.)  A squeaky clean stroller was just a pipe dream.

 

Speaking of outings.  Remember my vow to “never be caught dead sporting anything from my husband’s dresser drawers”?  Children, too, have changed my perspective on what is appropriate “going out” attire.  These days comfort is key.  I long to be comfortable.  I have worn Joel’s t-shirts, sweatshirts, socks and ball caps.  And all I’ve worn shamelessly to the grocery store, shopping, walks around the block and running errands.  There have been days on end when not a smudge of make-up has touched my skin.  It’s not that I don’t care about my looks, but looking good tends to take a back seat when I’m absorbed with the needs of my little ones. 

 

And then there are the bags.  (Oh…the bags!)  They were, in fact, the inspiration of this post today.  As I was preparing to head out the door the other morning I stopped when I suddenly caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror with bags hanging from various body parts. I looked like a Christmas tree decked out in backpacks, book bags, lunch bags, my purse, coats and sweaters.  “Oh no!  Say it ain’t so!”  I turned from my reflection, blinked my eyes hoping the image was not as it appeared, and snuck a second glance.  Nothing had changed.  I knew right then and there I had become the bag lady. 

 

Not just the bag lady, but the poor mom huffing and puffing her way through the church foyer, feeling like she has forgotten something, hoping her hair still looks as cute as it did before Jackson’s curious hands touched and grabbed it while being buckled into his four-point harness car seat, and praying that no one will drop on the floor in blatant protest to mommy’s whispered instructions.  I am the mom that I said I would never become.  I’m the icky stroller, multi-bag toting, wearing hubbies cast-off tees, exhausted, and breathless mommy.

 

In the literal sense, it seems that everywhere we go requires huge amounts of excess baggage.  Just managing all the kids’ miscellaneous items is enough to wear me out – even when they, too, are carrying part of the load.  Which brings me to my “big thought” for the day.  What about all the excess stuff I carry around spiritually?  All the worries, stress, needless expectations I put on myself, the guilt (Oh the guilt!), and the fear…the list could easily go on and on.  Even when I unburden myself to my husband or a close friend, still the “bags” continue to hang from my shoulders or pull on my arms.  While there’s not much I can do about all the backpacks, water bottles, blankets and coats while my kids are young, there is something I can do about the bags I carry around in my spirit.  Those bags are unnecessary, and there is nowhere I can find that God desires for me to continue clinging to them. 

 

So how do I get rid of this spiritual baggage? 

 

By setting them down at the feet of Christ.  The whole reason God allowed His son Jesus to come to earth, dwell among us and sacrifice His life on the cross, was so that He could take every care of the world, every sin of every man and every burden we struggle to balance onto His own back and carry it for us.  We love to sing, “I surrender all”, but most of the time once we’ve left the altar where we’ve made that submission, we end up picking up our “all” right outside the door.  The challenge is not so much to spill out our lives in a moment of emotional surrender, but to daily give everything over to God.  Daily lift up our hands and say, “Take my fear today, take my sadness, take my struggles, my finances, my priorities, my family…take every burden weighing on this heart of mine…today.”  And then daily, He can take all those spiritual bags we’ve been dragging around for so long, and bring us the relief and peace we so desperately need and want. 

 

Psalm 68:19

 

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.

Posted in Faith, Life, Motherhood | 3 Comments »

Good Grief and New Beginnings

Jan 6th, 2010 by Amy

When Jackson turned a year old I embarked on a bittersweet  journey through grief.  People grieve for a number of reasons: Death of a loved one, a loss of some kind, a move, a change in job, divorce, an empty nest or their team losing the Rose Bowl.  There are so many reasons.  And I believe each one to be valid (and I will add that the process of grieving for any one of these is healthy and good).  It’s an important step, in my opinion, and a necessary one to move on to the next season of life. 

 

For me, my period of grief lasted about a year.  I wasn’t depressed.  I wasn’t experiencing post partum blues or any sort of clinical or physiological problems.  Simply stated, I was grieving the loss of having babies.  We all have our own issues.  This was one of mine. 

 

I love babies.  I have loved babies since the time I could hold a baby doll in my arms.  All I ever wanted in life was to get married and be a mom.  I dreamed of what it would feel like to have my own baby – to love, nurture, swaddle and kiss the sweet face of my very own child.  Joel and I had made the decision long ago that we would have three children.  I initially suggested four or five, but judging by the look of horror and downright fear on his face I quickly realized I was going to have to downsize my dream.  We settled on three, and have never questioned that decision.  In fact, after Jackson was born (even as I held his tiny body up close to my face and in a hormonal moment of tears and sweat blubbered, “Oh please don’t let this be my last baby,”) I sensed in my heart that our family was finally complete.  Even through Jackson’s first year, that conviction continued to solidify deep inside bringing me much peace and contentment.

 

Then my little guy turned one.  And something snapped.  No more babies.  This season I had so long waited and hoped for was coming to a close…and fast.  I felt sad.  I felt a sort of loss.  No more maternity clothes.  No more newborn sleepers and teeny tiny diapers.  No more toothless grins and late night feedings.  It was all passing away right before my eyes.  It’s not that I suddenly wanted another baby – I knew that season was completed.  Rather, I found myself needing to grieve it.

 

I shared this with very few people.  Most of the time if someone would ask us if we were going to have more children I was quick to roll my eyes and state matter-of-factly, “NO WAY!”  While on the inside I was struggling.  I had my moments when I knew if Joel had shown the slightest interest in having a fourth child I would have jumped at the idea.  It was an emotional roller coaster year for me.  One minute wishing we could have another child, the next minute being grateful that those years had come to a close.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.

 

Part of the grief was wondering what lie beyond the baby years.  What was my purpose beyond cleaning spit up and changing copious amounts of diapers every day?  I had always looked ahead toward the time I would finally settle down and have children, but I had never looked further than that…to the after part.  And this was where I found myself when Jackson turned one.

 

It was a good year.  God did amazing things in my life through the grieving process.  And slowly, as that year drew to a close, I discovered new things about myself.  An unexpected sense of confidence began to emerge, and eventually joy unfolded within me as I looked forward to a new beginning that was awaiting me.  A season that consists of making lunches, helping out with homework, sports events, ballet recitals, school programs, sleepovers, communicating with words instead of sounds, and family activities that don’t require strollers, diaper bags, and burp cloths.  A season of being a family, instead of building a family. 

 

Today Jackson turns three-years-old.  I can hardly believe my 8 pound, ruddy faced baby is now running around, tackling his sisters, playing with his cars, doing his “business” in the big boy potty and talking to me with a mouth full of teeth.  Amazing.  I would be remiss to say that I don’t feel the slightest little pang of sadness as I look at this precocious boy of mine and realize he is no longer a baby.  But that sad feeling doesn’t linger.  It wells up only for a brief moment, and then fades away fast in the pleasure I take in this new season I am entering.  

 

The grief was good.  I needed to face it, feel it and learn from it.  The blessing here is that I didn’t have to stay in that state of grief.  Once I journeyed through it what was waiting for me on the other side was a new beginning, and thus far I am becoming more and more convinced that I am going to thoroughly love this season as much as I loved the last.

 

K41105C9E_1000051So in conclusion I just want to say “Happy Birthday” to my little man.  Thank you, Jackson, for three marvelous years of growth, laughter, joy and unconditional love.  You are a blessing and a delight to me.  You brought me to this new beginning.  And, oh my, how I love you!

Posted in Life, Motherhood | 5 Comments »

What’s That Smell?

Jan 3rd, 2010 by Amy

From the depths of sweet slumber I felt a tap, tap, tap on my shoulder.  Turning over and blinking my eyes, Sydney’s face came into focus.  She had a bad dream.  I looked at the clock.  Not quite 4am.

 

Rolling out of bed (my warm and cozy little nest), I took Sydney’s hand and, in a state of drowsiness, quietly escorted her back to her room.  Covers were arranged, water was administered and a short (but to the point) prayer was prayed.  I leaned over to give her a kiss. 

 

Sydney paused.

 

“Mommy, what’s that smell?

 

“What smell?”

 

Silence.

 

“What smell?”

 

Again, silence and Sydney’s eyes peering into mine.

 

“Oh.  Is it my breath?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay Mommy.  I love you.”

 

“I love you too.” 

 

(But that’s what you get, kiddo, for waking Mommy up in the wee hours of the morning from a deep, coma-like sleep.)

 

And we all returned to dreamland…happily ever after.

Posted in From The Mouth Of Babes, Motherhood | 2 Comments »

Auld Lang Syne

Dec 31st, 2009 by Amy

This girl doesn’t make New Year’s resolutions.  I think I stopped making lists like that ten or so years ago.  Not that there’s anything wrong with New Year’s resolutions, but I have found them to be ineffective for me personally.  Rather, before the New Year begins I take a look back at the year passing, make an objective assessment of how much I’ve grown and any areas that I can see need to be strengthened (as objective as one can be when looking at one’s self, mind you).  Then I look ahead.  Leaving the past behind, I shift my focus towards the future with high hopes and renewed faith of what I believe God can and will do in my life through the course of the New Year.

 

This past year, as I wrote a few weeks ago, was somewhat of an unexceptional year.  However, God was still present in it, and I believe will use even the mundane for His glory.  This coming year I look forward to what God has in store.  Whether it be the miracle I’ve been waiting for, or simply the steadiness of His hand in every situation I encounter over the next twelve months.  Above all I expect to look back a year from now and once again see God’s goodness, His providence and His grace. 

 

So, as the modern translation of “Auld Lang Syne” goes, I will embrace the New Year with a toast to days and times gone by and look ahead with great expectation to the days and times to come. 

 

And I pray your New Year be blessed too!

 

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

-Scottish Poem written by Robert Burns in 1788

Posted in Life, Random | 1 Comment »

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Dec 23rd, 2009 by Amy

I just botched every single warm fuzzy mommy moment only a few minutes ago as I snapped angrily at Sydney for asking (whining) for the umpteenth time if it was lunch time.  This outburst of mine completely undermined the earlier draft of this post I had been working on throughout the morning.

 

In fact, I’m still not fully in the proper state of mind to tell about how I was sitting here at the computer tyring to figure out what to write when I heard this voice over my shoulder saying, “Don’t panic. Don’t panic.”  From the corner of my eye I could see Sydney coming closer and closer to me with a big, white hair bow in hand.  She wanted to do my hair for me.   Meanwhile, Jackson and Brooklyn had been fighting over who got to massage my back.  (Oh the pampered life I live!)

 

We are only two days away from the big day.  The day my three wild ones have been anticipating and dreaming about for weeks and months.   One minute I’m basking in the simple pleasures of watching the excitement build in their eyes.  The next minute I feel like I’m barely holding on by a thread to keep some semblance of peace in the home.  These people, with their little hands and little faces, in a brief moment of sweetness, have worked extraordinarily hard to make sure I (Santa’s wife) feel appreciated and loved (minus the first thing in the morning meltdown, the bickering over some stupid plastic toy and the tears shed when it was firmly explained that M&M’s are not an appropriate breakfast food).   I know it’s hard to be good all year long, let alone all day long!

 

If I could only manage to press hold and make time stand still, just for a moment.  For this moment when all three are peacefully playing, and the moment tomorrow that has yet to come and for the first peek at the gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.  In the minds of my children time is moving ever so slowly towards the day they’ve been anxiously awaiting for so long.  In my mind time is flying at the speed of light, and I’ve not enough space on my camera’s memory stick to capture all the moments I long to remember and never forget: preschool Christmas programs, cookie baking mis-haps, potty training through the holidays, driving down Peacock Lane, eating Christmas treats and marveling at the warm glow of creative exterior lighting, the story of baby Jesus and the look of absolute conviction that crosses the faces of three young children, eyes large as saucers, as they give detailed accounts of their Christmas lists. 

 

As stressful as it can be, this truly is the most magical time of the year.  And inspite of my momentary lapse in motherly sweetness, I really do long to savour every single moment of this holiday season with my family.  So, I’ll take the good parts, wrap them up in my heart, and open them every time I need a reminder of just how magical those hard-to-come-by well-behaved moments are. 

 

And in sheer delight I’ll hold tightly to those twinkling passages of time that usher me right back into the joy of the season – the most wonderful time of the year!

Posted in Motherhood | No Comments »

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree

Dec 17th, 2009 by Amy

Very few things make me want to get up and make a fool out of myself like Amy Grant’s CD Home For Christmas.  Bought in 1992 (yes, you read that correctly – nineteen ninety-two), this CD is probably considered a Christmas heirloom these days.  My college roommate and I played it continuously throughout the holiday season of our freshman year.  We rocked out to “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree”, transforming our hair picks into guitars.  We were the original guitar heroes.  Then, of course, our eyes wet and throats choked up with tears, we would sit on the floor, in our dimly-lit dorm room and listen to the song “Breath of Heaven”.  To this day, when I listen to that song, (hands down the most played tune I own on CD) I can’t help but laugh and cry at the same time.  I laugh as I recall our deep thoughts and musings through tears on how anointed that musical composition was.  I cry because I still believe it is one of the most anointed songs I’ve ever heard.

 

Christmas isn’t Christmas until I’ve rocked around the Christmas tree at least a dozen times (pick in hand) and bawled my eyes out to Breath of Heaven just the same.  I honestly hate doing it alone.  It was way more fun with my college roomie.  Maybe it’s time to pass on my pick and fabulous dance moves to my children, although I suspect I may be scaring them a little bit when I get all jiggy with it.  Oh, well.

 

I’m so thankful to Amy, my college roommate – who is still one of my dearest and most cherished friends ever – for e-mailing me yesterday just to say hi and share this memory with me.  College just didn’t realize our coolness and the awesome dance moves we created in our cramped up shoebox of a dorm room.  We were way ahead of our time.  I’m thankful for my lifelong friend, lifelong memories, Amy Grant, and the fact that I’m still limber enough to pull off a good ol’ “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” jig.

 

Christmas is all about giving, and today I’m remembering the gift of laughter my friend Amy has always been quick to give to me.  She inspires me to smile when I want to cry, dance when I want to pout and give when I want to hold on.  I wish I could wrap up a dozen gingerbread lattes, Bath and Body Works soaps and lotions, and thirty minute deep tissue massages and send them all to you, but that won’t happen (for obvious reasons).  Instead I’m just going to share a little laughter (hopefully), and a quick run down memory lane.  Maybe it will inspire you to do the same – to share a laugh or two with some friends (me included…that would be nice!).  Or, perhaps you’re just dying to rock around the Christmas tree.  Believe me, it’s catchy and it’s fun (just don’t rock out so hard that you knock your tree down).

 

In any case, I’m going to head downstairs now, pop in my Home For Christmas CD, turn up the volume, grab a kid or two, and start rockin’ out.

 

“Rockin’ around the Christmas tree.  Have a happy holiday.  Everyone dancing merrily in the new old fashioned way!”

(Music and Lyrics by Johnny Marks – 1958)

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