Dear Cool Girl

Hi Charlotte,

You may not remember me but I attended school with you in elementary, middle, and high school. We didn't hang out much but I have never forgotten you and here is the reason why:

I started Pueblo Elementary in the 4th grade and I found it very difficult to fit in. There was a definite crowd of "cool girls" and it was hard to join them so late in the game. In my mind you were the coolest of those cool girls. You were so beautiful and so popular. You were, without a doubt, the "it" girl of Pueblo Elementary (I'm getting to my point, I promise!). Every school that has an "IN CROWD" also has an "OUT CROWD". Those poor kids that are ruthlessly picked apart just for being different. The 2 boys at the very bottom of the Pueblo totem pole were brothers. I only remember the name of the oldest boy, Logan, and I can't remember their last name. What I do remember is the daily torture those poor boys endured. They were teased, taunted, and picked apart every single day. Ridiculed for wearing clothes that weren't cool, made fun of for their hair, hygiene, the way they spoke, sat, walked... you name it, they were picked on for it.

I sat by and watched this happen every single day for months. I'm ashamed to say, that I never had the courage to stand up for those boys. I sat silently and watched and out of my own insecurities, I even agreed with some of the cruel comments from time to time.

One day as the 2 boys were waiting for the school bus to take them home from school, they once again found themselves under fire. I once again sat by silently. But you, Charlotte Baxter, the prettiest and the most popular girl in school made a stand. You stood up for Logan and his little brother. You told those bullies to stop. You told them how cool you thought the 2 boys were and how stupid they all were for picking on them. Everyone was stunned into silence.

Through the years I have thought about that moment in time over and over again. When I became a mom, I decided that one of the things I wanted to instill into my own children was the confidence of a little girl named Charlotte. A little girl who wasn't afraid to stand up for the underdog. Who put herself at great social risk, to do the right thing. I really wished that I had the courage to do the same.

As I browsed through some of the high school reunion photos, I saw your picture and was once again reminded.

Sometimes we can go through life, inspiring others, and not even know it. Over these past few days, I've felt like you needed to know what a difference you have made. Not only to me, and to my children, but to Logan and his little brother. I have prayed for those boys over the years. I have no idea what ever became of them, but I pray their lives are good and I pray yours is too.

May God bless you every single day,

Renee "Hufford" Matchett

*Note: The names have been changed in the above letter in order to protect the privacy of those mentioned.

Choo Choo's & Blankey's

Tonight I turned over the reigns of the family video camera to my son Kade. Something had to be done. It was obvious that I was dropping the ball. Me of all people!

I am the youngest child in my family, the baby, with 5 older siblings. I must confess, I've been a teensy bit bitter over the years, ever so slightly perturbed with my mother. It wouldn't take you long to figure out why. Just pop over for a visit and casually ask my mom if you can browse through our family photo albums. You'll see page after page and album after album filled with black and white photos of my brothers Kevin, Darin, and Brian. Every single Christmas, Birthday, Easter, new outfit, first steps, first bike, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, all of it carefully and meticulously documented. And then.... in the very last album, on the very last page... a few measly little token shots of yours truly! After you're done looking at the albums, ask mom if you can take a quick peek at our family videos. You'll see some familiar faces. That's right, Kevin, Darin, and Brian in action once again! Only this time I'm afraid you won't even catch a quick glimpse of their baby sister because apparently the video camera broke on the day she was born! In fact, if it wasn't for that last page in that last photo album, we'd have a hard time proving that I ever even existed. No baby book, no outfits, no trinkets, nothing. I never understood it... until now.

Kenzington turned 1 on July 18th. She is my 4th and final child. Although I have worked hard to document her life with photographs, I realized today that I have about 10 minutes of her 13 months recorded on video. Not only that, but I haven't written one thing down in her baby book, nothing in her journal, and I didn't even throw her a birthday party. Instead I strapped her in a car seat for 18 hours and dragged her across the country. I'm an animal!

So Kade HAD to take over. Clearly I couldn't be trusted. I had become my mother. The one thing I swore I would never do, I had done!

I'm not really sure when or how it happened. Life takes over and time just starts flying by. It doesn't make any sense to me that the child I gave birth to last week just had her first birthday. And the boy that I held in my arms for the first time last summer, just turned 13. I really can't even think about it for too long without crying. Childhood is such a precious gift but I'm afraid it doesn't last. These past few months that has become painfully clear to me. As I've prepared my house for our eventual move, I have come across some little treasures that have brought me to tears. Choo choo trains that had been clutched in the hands of my tiny little boy for what seemed like years, beaten and battered by his constant love and attention... now discarded in a storage box. A blankey that a certain little girl couldn't live without, frayed and worn from night after night of cuddling and comforting, now folded on a shelf, no longer needed. Toy trucks replaced with video games and baby dolls replaced with iPods.

Sometimes I get caught up in the stress of being a grown up. I get so busy with stuff that I miss out on what really matters... on who really matters. Life goes by quickly. Savor every moment, schedule some cuddle time and enjoy every stage. Grab the video camera. Make some memories and don't forget to laugh! Because in an instant your little kindergardener is in college and you never even saw it coming.

Unsolved Mysteries

I love to watch Dateline and 48 Hours. Not just any episodes, the real life mystery episodes! They will take a crazy case and follow it for years. It's amazing to watch it unfold from beginning to end. I love a good mystery with lots of twists and turns, the kind that keep you guessing and surprise you in the end. I could watch them every night of the week and never get bored.

I did have to force myself to cut back though. I found myself behaving differently. Not like a mom or a pastor's wife... more like a detective or a CSI agent. I was suddenly suspicious of everyone. If the guy who was bagging my groceries asked if I needed help to my car, I was sure he was planning on throwing me in the trunk and kidnapping me. If I heard a loud noise outside late at night, I would take a mental note of the date and time, just in case a crime had taken place and the police needed me to testify. I think I would have made a really good witness but fortunately no crime was ever committed. It was all in my mind. It eventually became too much, and I had to stop myself. The first thing to go? Dateline and 48 Hours. It wasn't easy, but it was the right thing to do.... for everyone else's sake.

The one type of show that I was never tempted to watch was Dateline or 48 Hours 'Unsolved Mysteries'. I learned the hard way. I invested an entire hour or maybe even two into a case that no one ever figured out. When it was over I would find myself screaming at the TV,

"That's it? It's over? Who did it? WHO DID IT????!!!!"

I hate unfinished business.... half told stories.... sad endings or worse.... no endings at all. That's why I almost didn't write this blog. I've been thinking about writing it for weeks but I was waiting for my ending. Well guess what... I'm still waiting.

Have you ever asked God for something... believing that He was able to do it... and that He would want to do it... but then He didn't do it? Have you ever gotten your hopes up so many times only to have them dashed over and over again? If you answered yes to those two questions, then you probably also know what it's like to be on an emotional roller coaster ride that never seems to end. The highs and the lows that leave you feeling sick. I know. I've been there. In fact, I think I accidentally bought a season pass.

Allowing your circumstances to dictate your emotions is an easy rut to fall into but it's no way to live. 1 Peter 5:7 tells us to cast all of our anxiety on Him because He cares for us. So how come that's so much easier said than done? In my case it should have said, "Cast and re-cast all of your anxiety on Him over and over and over again because He cares for us." Just when I think I've finally given my situation over to God and cast those cares away, something happens and those "cares" are right back with me again and the anxiety leaps right back into the pit of my tummy. Another roller coaster ride that I didn't want to get on.

Here's what I'm finding.... Because the disappointment of the "low's" is often so devastating and discouraging, I try to avoid them like the plague. In my mind I think that the only way to protect myself from the "low's" is to avoid the "high's". It makes sense right? Don't they say, "What goes up.... must come down"? I have caught myself, on more than one occasion, saying things like, "I don't want to get my hopes up." Have you ever said that? It's a defense mechanism. If you get your hopes up, then you might get disappointed... so just stop hoping.

The problem is faith and hope are intertwined. So if you stop hoping, you also stop believing. If you lose your hope, you lose your faith. According to Hebrews 11 Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen. So the challenge is to keep hope alive. Don't allow your circumstances to control you. Keep on believing 'that thing' is going to happen. If it doesn't happen when or how you hoped it would, it doesn't mean it's not going to happen at all. If you get your hopes up for the millionth time and things don't work out? Just start looking forward to the million and oneth (totally not a real word but you get the point).

I told you I didn't have my ending yet. I didn't want to write about the ups and downs without being able to encourage you with the end result but then I realized.... you might be encouraged just to know you're not alone. There's someone else out there on the same journey as you. Trying to keep the faith. Trying not to let their circumstances control them. Trying not to give up. Someone who hasn't arrived yet but who will continue hoping... against all hope. Knowing that eventually her case will be solved and yours will too.

That's Hot!

I was in Indiana last week visiting my husband and my new church. I had a great time. It was just the 2 of us. My mom was brave enough to keep all 4 of our children so that Todd and I could spend some time together. Our 15th Wedding Anniversary was the week before and so it was a great way to celebrate.... alone .... with no kids.

The day before I was to come home I received a phone call from my mother, she was pretty upset. She told me that our air conditioner wasn't cooling the house and they were hot. I tried to calm her down as I cruised through Northwest Indiana in my air-conditioned car but it wasn't easy. She just kept going on and on and on and I couldn't stop her. I don't remember exactly what she said but the words "hot","sweltering", "sweating", "heatstroke", and "we're all gonna die!" came up quite a bit. If I'm going to be completely honest with you, I was a little bit put out. I mean, didn't she realize she was putting a damper on my last day with my husband? How bad could it be?

The next morning I was on the road bright and early. Equipped with coffee and snacks, I was ready to take on the long drive home. I hadn't even gotten out of Merrilliville, Indiana when my phone rang. Once again, my mom was griping about how hot she was. It was early in the morning and the house still wasn't cool. We decided it was time to call in the professionals and see what the problem was. I spent the rest of my journey trying to pray through my anxiety. Did you know that those A/C guys charge by the 15 minutes? Whatever happened to by the hour? As I continued to drive, I received several more calls from my mom. She sounded a little bit more frantic each time. When I was about an hour and a half away she informed me that the repairman had finally arrived. It was a bittersweet moment. How much was this going to cost me? Was my mom just exaggerating? Couldn't she just 'tough it out'?

Usually after a long car ride across the country, arriving home is a beautiful moment. Maybe it could be the same for me. Maybe all of my crazed rantings to God would pay off! This was my moment. I was in my neighborhood. I turned onto my street and to my horror he was STILL at my house.. We were coming up on 2 hours and his big white truck was just sitting there in my driveway taunting me. My spirit was broken. Why doesn't God just do what I say?

Even though I had 4 little kids in that house waiting for me, I was dreading walking through that door. When I entered the house I wasn't greeted by Kade or Kennedy or Kaja. Not even the baby or the dog ran to see me. Instead it was the intensity of the smoldering heat that first wrapped it's ugly arms around me. The house was a sauna. I went to the thermostat and saw that it had settled at 96 degrees. I found my mom in the kitchen. She didn't look good at all. It was as if she'd been through battle. I went right to work trying to extract information from her. I peppered her with questions. "What is he saying?" "Exactly how long has he been here?" "Is there any end in sight?" Right in the middle of my interrogation the repairman crept up the stairs and sauntered over to the thermostat like he had all the time in the world. I was afraid to approach him but I knew I had to. The feeling of dread was overwhelming. When I reached his line of vision he shot me a cocky little grin and introduced himself. I forced myself to smile. He spent the next 15 minutes telling me things about the inner workings of an air-conditioning unit. I wanted to scream but I was too hot. Bottom line: Our unit was frozen. We had to turn everything off until the ice thawed. Once it thawed we could turn on the air and it should work. Probably 2 to 3 hours should do the trick. Thankfully Mr. Slowpoke wasn't planning on waiting around for those 2 to 3 hours. When he was done talking he moseyed out to his truck to do the paperwork. I felt nauseous as I dug my checkbook out of my purse and waited for the dreaded total. I'm pretty sure another 15 minutes went by before he finally came back inside with the invoice. Could this day get any worse? He walked through the door and I met him at the dining room table. He handed me a pen and said, "Just sign here. I'm not going to charge you today. They should have found this problem before." I couldn't believe my ears. I don't know what was harder... trying to fight off the urge to burst into tears right then and there or trying to fight off the urge to throw my arms around this complete stranger and not let go. It was a miracle and I knew it.

It took about 12 hours for the house to reach our desired temperature. That entire night was pretty miserable. We were all very irritable and easily agitated. Chances are you are reading this blog from your air-conditioned home or office. You may be thinking that I'm a big baby who can't take the heat. Maybe you are thinking of me what I thought of my mom, that I should just toughen up. Some people think that since I grew up in Arizona, the heat shouldn't affect me. Todd grew up in Canada but he still gets cold in the winter! Have you ever been to Arizona in the summer time? Everyone is ticked off all of the time! The intense heat does something to you. It brings out your very worst. Living there doesn't make you immune to it and it certainly doesn't make you like it. People are screaming at their kids, drivers are running people off the roads, babies are crying.... it's every man for himself.

When you experience extreme heat you behave differently than you do when you're comfortable. You discover things about yourself that aren't necessarily positive. I've been through seasons in my life when I've felt like I was being tested by fire. Like God was turning up the heat. I haven't always passed those tests. I haven't always been proud of my reactions. I usually throw a few temper tantrums, beg God to come to my rescue, and get frustrated when He seems to be taking His sweet time, much like the repairman did. I do always eventually come out of it though. He fixes the air-conditioning in my life and gives me a little reprieve. Then He shows me my new reflection. I'm always a little bit stronger and a little bit wiser than I was before. I always have a new appreciation for life and for the seasons of comfort. But I mostly have a new appreciation for the ultimate Repairman, the only One that can get me through it. Although I don't enjoy the heat one little bit, I know that it's a necessity and at the end of the day, I would endure it again if I had to.... but I really hope I don't have to.

Fabulous Kennedy

The following is a TRUE story. Not one bit of it is pretend. It’s not make believe but it is a beautiful tale. Some may even call it a Fairy Tale. Not because it didn’t happen, because it most certainly did, but because it is about a remarkable, glorious, fascinating child that leaves a trail of sunshine and sparkles everywhere she goes. Her beauty cannot be matched because it comes from the deepest part of her heart. It shows itself in every little thing she does. Her kind words, her generous spirit, her love for others, her passion for life, and her heart for God are contagious. They spill onto every person fortunate enough to cross her path. She is very special indeed and this is her story, her true story...

Exactly 10 years ago, to this very day, a mommy and a daddy were at a hospital waiting for their baby to arrive. They had been there for hours and they were both exhausted. All they wanted to do was see their little girl and hold her in their arms. The anticipation was too much! Fireworks and Starbursts were going off in their chests! Finally, after 14 hours of labor, it was time. The moment everyone had been waiting for... the arrival of a princess. As soon as they saw her they fell head over heels. She was the most beautiful child anyone had ever seen. Mommy, Daddy, Ama, Aunt Angie and Aunt Rodlyn were admiring her when suddenly Ama shouted, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’ve got the perfect name!” “What is it?”, they asked. “Baby Ruth!” she said with what looked like tears of Almond Joy in her eyes. After a long awkward pause that seemed to drag on for years, someone broke the silence with Snickers and cheers. This babies name had been chosen long before, it was a name that was perfect for the little SweeTart, Kennedy Shayne had stolen their hearts. That very same day while in her mommy’s arms, she purred like a Kit Kat playing with yarn. A baby that purrs is funny indeed. Laffy Taffy your head off... somebody please!

As sweet as she was 10 years ago today, that Kennedy girl grew more precious each day. Her beauty inside matched her beauty without. She had billions of Layers worth talking about. She was kind, smart, funny, and sweet. Her very favorite thing was getting a treat! She would give away toys without thinking twice, this was a girl who redefined “nice”.

Our Fairy Tale started just 10 years ago. A beautiful daughter, they watched gracefully grow. It’s gone Extra fast for her mom and her dad, in a blink of an eye they’ll be attending her grad. Then soon after that her Prince will arrive, pull out a Ring and make her his wife. He’ll have to be special to win that girls hand. He’ll have to love Jesus and be a real man. He’ll have to respect her and win over her mom. If he can do that, then that boy is the bomb! Then several years later, they’ll have kids of their own. A beautiful daughter that could be her clone! They’ll hold her, and change her, and give her a Bottle. They’ll laugh when her walk looks more like a waddle.

But for now let’s remember that she’s still only 10. A beautiful child with a beautiful grin. Full of sweets from so many treats, after reading this story she must brush her teeth. I’m really not joking, I hate to rush, but for your final prize I got you a Tooth Brush.

That’s the end of our story... or at least so far...

Happy Birthday to Kennedy, my shining star!

Open House

I'm sitting in a very clean house right now. I mean eat off the floors, drink out of the toilets, invite your mother-in-law over kind of clean. (OK... I may have gotten a little over zealous with the toilet comment but it is VERY clean.) Not one thing out of place. Carpets are vacuumed, tile is mopped, bathrooms have been scrubbed, glass has been shined, furniture polished, drawers, cupboards, refrigerators, closets, everything... spotless! Every light in the house is on. Every TV in the house is off. Mood music is playing. There is even a crystal platter with cookies and cream puffs in the kitchen sitting right next to the ice water with lemon & lime slices floating in it. No kids anywhere and definitely no dog!

As you probably guessed by the title, we are having an Open House today. Have you ever had one? It's definitely an experience. You clean like a crazy person for weeks. Your main goal is to erase any evidence of people actually living in the house. You pack away toys, kids, dogs, and absolutely all of the clutter. And when it's 'go time', you allow strangers to roam around and peek in all of your closets. You pretend like it's just a regular day and you always keep things this immaculate. You point out impressive features and hope that they are so overwhelmed with the awesomeness of it all that they will throw truckloads of money at you and beg to move in right away. It's actually quite exciting.

And then... when it's all over with, you get to hang out in your super clean house and you remember why you fell in love with it in the first place. It's been restored to it's original condition. It's original beauty. You look around and it's perfect. No socks on the floor, no backpacks on the table, no toys on the stairs, no fingerprints on the windows, no beds un-made, no dirty dishes, no crumbs on the ground. But as lovely and as clean and as perfectly manicured as it is.... it's also very empty, and quiet, and kind of sad. No kids laughing, no dog barking, no baby jabbering. No life.

Keeping house isn't easy. I try to stay on top of things but I often fall short. It's amazing how quickly 4 little humans can un-do hours of housework. All they really have to do is walk in the door. If one of them is lost, I just follow the trails of toys, shoes, socks, and sometimes even food until I find them. And when things have completely gotten away from me...when we've crossed the line from "messy" and gone straight to "disaster"... that's when someone decides to 'pop' over and pay us a visit. Why is that? Why can't anyone pop over on a day like today, when my house looks perfect?

I've been told by my "empty nest" friends to savor these moments. To enjoy the mess and the chaos because soon it will be gone. I know they're right. I'm not ready for that yet. Time goes much too quickly and in a flash a tiny toddler turns into a teenager. It makes me sad to imagine my life as an empty nester. I know there will be perks...like a super clean house, quiet time with my amazing husband, and probably even daily naps... but it still makes me sad. In fact, if I think about it for too long, I could sink right into depression. That's why God gave me Kenzington. He knew I'd need a little extra time.

So if you happen to "pop in" on me someday and my house is a disaster.... yes, initially I'll be horrified and embarrassed and I'll definitely blame the children but then I'll remember that although this season I find myself in isn't always neat and tidy, it IS the best years of my life and I will hold on to them for as long as I possibly can.

All that being said.... I would still prefer it if you would call first. :)

Mother's Day Blog: Take 2

I'm about to do something that I will probably never do again. I am going to post my second blog of the day! Since today is Mother's Day I'm allowed. My first, was a letter to my mom. The second is about being a mom. Two totally different things and both very worthy of blogging about. So here it goes... Mother's Day Blog #2

This morning I was greeted by two very excited little girls, bringing me breakfast in bed. They had been planning it for weeks. Ama helped them make me my favorite morning meal and they walked into my room, carefully balancing the tray, with giant grins plastered on their beautiful little faces. On the tray I found a bowl of oatmeal, a bottle of water, a gift bag, and 2 handmade cards. The first card was from Kennedy, my soon to be 10 year old daughter. She has so many qualities that I love and admire. She is generous, kind, and always happy. She cares so much about people and she is always trying to please. Here is the card Kennedy made for me...

Sweet, isn't it? That's my Kennedy. I love her so much.

Next, I read the card that Kaja, my 7 year old daughter made for me. Kaja was the baby of the family up until 9 months ago. She is the one that keeps us all laughing. She is fun, spirited, sassy, and a natural leader. I love how fearless she is. I never had the confidence that Kaja has when I was a little girl but I wish I had. She's quite a girl! Here is the card Kaja made for me:

In case you don't know how to interpret 7 year old handwriting, allow me:

Dear Mother,

I've loved you since the day I was born.

When you're here, I'm happy but when you're not, I'm sad.

It is hard when you boss and boss and boss and boss and boss and boss and boss

and boss me around but I love you anyways.

Kaja

This letter is classic Kaja. When I read that little first grade note, knowing that without a doubt she meant every single word of it, I couldn't help but laugh. In fact, I laughed and laughed until I cried. This one is definitely going in my memory box!

My 4 children are alike in so many ways but they are also very unique. Each one with their own distinct personalities help to make our family what it is. I wouldn't want Kaja to act like Kennedy or Kennedy to act like Kaja. I wouldn't want Kade to be anything other than Kade or Kenzington to be anything other than her precious little self. I love them for who they are. They aren't perfect. They make mistakes. They need direction and even discipline but they're mine and I love them.

There have been times in my life when I thought God might wish I was more like one of my brothers or sisters. Times when I've felt like a disappointment. I thought He compared me to His other children and secretly liked them better. When I became a parent to multiple children I learned something about the heart of my Father. I learned that He loves me for me just like I love Kaja for Kaja and Kennedy for Kennedy. It's unconditional. When I speak my mind, He isn't shocked. He knows my thoughts. He feels proud of me. He thinks I'm unique and beautiful and funny. He loves me more than I love my own children. That's a beautiful thing!

Dear Mom,

When I think back on my childhood this is what I remember:

I remember watching you put your makeup on and thinking that you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I remember hearing you sing in the car and believing with my whole heart that your voice was just like an angel.

I remember the smell you had when you would come home from a trip. (Looking back, I think it might have been cigarette smoke but I remember loving it!)

I remember how you would cuddle me when I would climb in your bed in the middle of the night.

I remember the way you would play with my hair when I would lie on your lap during church.

I remember how you would take care of me when I was sick.

I remember missing you when you had only gone to the store.

I remember how good you were at sounding happy when you would answer the phone (even if I knew you really weren’t)

I remember you waking me up for school and telling me to hurry up and get dressed because you had a surprise for me. When I would get downstairs you would tell me that the surprise was that I didn’t have to go to school. Instead, we would go shopping together.

I remember how clean the house always was and how calm you always seemed.

I remember how proud I felt when you would show up in my classroom and all the kids would look at me with stars in their eyes and say, “Is that your Mom?”

I remember you teaching me how to walk in high heels.

I remember seeing your motherly instincts kick into high gear when my PE teacher wouldn’t let me get a Kleenex during gym class.

I remember the way you would always forget that we were supposed to be grounded.

I remember hearing you laugh a lot.

I remember when your jaw got locked while we were watching a very moving episode of “Little House On the Prairie”

I remember how you would manipulate me to scratch your back by telling me that you heard I was the best at it.

I remember the confidence I felt inside when I would overhear you telling a friend on the phone how amazing I was at something I had done.

I remember how easy it was for me to convince you that I was too sick to go to school.

I remember how when I couldn’t find anything to wear you flew me to London to get clothes at Harrods.

So many memories from so long ago, but some things never change.

I still think you’re beautiful. You still take care of me when I’m sick. You still pretend to be happy when you answer the phone. I still miss you when you go to the store.  We still go shopping together. You still try to get me to call in sick. You still laugh a lot and every once in a while I still hear you talking about how great I am to someone on the other end of the phone. I couldn’t imagine having a better Mom than you. You are my best friend.

I couldn’t end this letter without reminding you who else you’re creating memories for. You have given my 4 children something that I never had….an Ama. An Ama is so much better than a Grandma. An Ama pulls the cushions off of the couch and has slumber parties with you. An Ama takes care of you when you’re sick. An Ama thinks you are the smartest, funniest & cutest kid on the planet. An Ama makes sure you are wearing the coolest fashions. An Ama becomes obsessed with buying whatever you are collecting. An Ama cries when you have had a hard day at school. An Ama never comes back from a trip without presents for you. An Ama makes sure you are eating vegetables and taking vitamins. An Ama schedules your flu shot and then buys you a present for being so brave. An Ama makes you goody bags before a long car trip. There is nothing in this world like an Ama. You have become one of the most important people in this entire world to four precious little ones. To Kade, Kennedy, Kaja, and Kenzington you cannot be replaced.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. I love you!

Free Samples

I have a confession to make. When Todd and I first got married, we used to go to Sam's Club every week on our day off and eat lunch on the samples. Money was tight and you can't get much cheaper than free. I'm not sure why but I felt like I needed to act super interested in whatever the item was I happened to be tasting. I would say things like, "Ooh, what's this?" The sample lady would roll her eyes and give me her rehearsed spiel about the 'all white meat chicken nugget that I could cook in the oven, microwave, or deep fryer' and then she would set it on top of a little white napkin and nudge it in my direction . For some reason I always felt like I needed to take the first bite in her presence so she could see my initial reaction. Whether I liked it or not, I would make groaning noises like it was the very best thing I had ever put into my mouth. Then I would quickly make my exit calling out to Todd, "Honey, we should buy these sometime!"

My local grocery store has sample people now too. They're different than the Sam's Club samplers though. I think these people must own stock in the products they're sampling. They are passionate and they know their stuff! Sometimes I buy things that I don't really like because I don't want to hurt the samplers feelings. It's just easier to put the item in my cart than to see their sad little faces when I walk away. But most of the time I buy stuff from them because they convince me that it's the best. They tell me all of the amazing things I can make with the product. They tell me exactly how to use it, what they've personally made with it, and how much they love it. I usually can't wait to get the product home so I can tell my family how much better our lives are going to be because of this amazing new marinade or dip or jelly.

Passion, excitement, knowledge, personal testimony and instruction makes all the difference. When someone really believes in something and is genuinely excited about it... you just naturally want in on it. When you can see it "working" in their lives, you want it to be a part of your life.

What are you passionate about? Are you giving out samples? Are people buying it?

Through The Storms

I've never been afraid of thunder or lightening. I grew up in Arizona and spent most of my days under the hot desert sun. Getting rain was a special treat. Most Phoenicians would get all crazy, flip on the fireplace, make some hot cocoa and wrap up in a blankey. We watched the monsoon storms like most people watch fireworks.

My daughter, Kennedy, is a different story. She has what I would consider to be an unnatural fear of anything weather related. When the first raindrop hits the pavement she immediately escorts herself to the safe room. She worries about lightening hitting the house, tornado's, earthquakes, floods, tsunamis... you name it, she's afraid of it. I did some investigating and found out what prompted Kennedy's fears. About 2 years ago a neighborhood friend showed her a movie about tornado's ripping towns apart and lightening burning down homes. The same "friend" also told her that the world was going to end in 2012. Some time ago this friend moved to another state but the damage that was done to my poor little Kennedy remained. I've tried to talk Kennedy out of her fear. I've explained how rare it is for something like that to happen. I've talked to her about praying and giving God those scary feelings. She knows that He controls the weather and that He can protect her. But at the end of the day, she's still scared.

Last Friday I drove my 4 children, by myself, to visit their Daddy in Indiana. We have been separated from him for the past few months while we try to sell our home in Missouri. We left at 6 in the morning. The van was packed, the kids were ready, and I was just scanning the house one final time to ensure we didn't forget anything when Kennedy approached me, "What was that noise? Was that thunder?" I just smiled and said, "Oh, I don't know sweetie, we'll be fine." "But Mom... what would we do if a tornado came while we were driving?" I'm not sure I was as nurturing as I should have been at this moment. My mind was going a thousand miles an hour and I really just wanted to stay on schedule and get on the road. "Kennedy it's fine. God would protect us, now get in the car."

We hadn't been driving long when the rain started. I don't mind a little sprinkle but it was much more than that. About an hour into our trip, the sky opened up and I literally couldn't see the car in front of me. It beat down relentlessly for close to an hour. I was beyond stressed and yes... I was scared! I toyed with the idea of stopping and waiting for it to pass, but then I worried it never would pass. I had heard the forecast called for rain and thunderstorms. What if it was supposed to last all day? I had to get to Indiana eventually. So away we went, praying, and eventually it stopped.

Fast forward a couple more hours.... we were right by St. Louis, and suddenly things didn't feel quite right. The sun was nowhere to be found, a thick darkness took it's place. There was a dark line of clouds filling the horizon with suspicious cone shaped clouds hanging off it like icicles. On my left was what looked like a giant ship right on the ground but it was made out of dark swirly clouds. As the road curved we were forced to drive through it and when we did things got much much worse. The darkness intensified and so did the rain. I was sure we were about to experience a tornado. Once again, the rain pounded so hard that I could not see where I was going. Cars were pulling off the road and sitting under bridges for cover. I was terrified. I suddenly realized how very small, insignificant, and utterly powerless I was. I had zero control over what was happening and I didn't know what to do. The ONLY thing I could do was pray. I must have said the name of Jesus a billion times. I was too scared to say anything else. I couldn't even wrap my head around a thought.... just "Oh Jesus, Jesus, Jesus... please, please, please... Oh Jesus, help me, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus..." It was all I could do. My only defense. I had no other options. Just pray... and trust... and that's it.

I couldn't help but draw the parallel to my own life. Although the storm I traveled through on Friday felt like it would never end, it did eventually end. And although I felt like I wasn't going to survive it, I did survive it. I've gone through my share of stormy seasons in my life. I've had some clouds that felt like they were going to consume me. I've felt panicked and I've felt afraid. When you are experiencing a storm, people don't always understand do they? Sometimes they try to talk you out of it or just tell you not to be afraid, like I did with Kennedy.... but at the end of the day, it's your storm, not theirs. In my own life I have found that once I realize how very small, insignificant, and utterly powerless I am and once I realize that my ONLY option is to pray and trust God.... that's when things start to improve. It's not always an improvement in the weather, often times the storm around me hasn't changed but the storm within me has.

Storms are inevitable. We are all going to go through them at some point. I learned a couple of things on Friday that will stay with me though. #1. Don't assume to know what someone else's storm feels like. You may not understand or relate to the season someone else finds themselves in but don't ever minimize it. It's their reality, not yours. #2. Trust God. It may not make sense, it may be scary but once you relinquish control and give it to Him...things get better. A tornado did go through St. Louis on Friday. I don't know how close I came to that tornado but I do know that God protected me and my children that day. I couldn't have saved myself. #3. The stormy seasons make you stronger. When I look back on the most difficult seasons in my life, I realize that it was in those seasons that I gained the most perspective, character, and wisdom. Although difficult and many times even agonizing... I wouldn't trade them. They've made me who I am.

^{James 1:2-4 (MSG)} Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

There's a first time for everything...

Well here it goes. My first blog. The only problem is, I don't think I'm really the blogger type. I'm not even sure what blogs are for. I mean what kind of a name is "Blog" anyways? It makes me think of "blah, blah, blah" and that's not good. But despite my apprehension... a blog I will write and here's why:

I think I'm a lot like you. We may come from different backgrounds and we may find ourselves in different stages of life but I think we might share the same fears, doubts, insecurities, dreams, hopes, and interests. I think we might get excited about the same things and I think we might worry about some of the same things. I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a daughter, a friend, a niece, an aunt, and a sister. Although I am a lot of things to a lot of people, sometime I think people expect me to be something that I'm not. You see another one of my titles is "Pastor's Wife" and with that comes a lot of assumptions and expectations. Most of them false.

As I write this it is quickly approaching the noon hour, I am still in my pajamas, I have three kids interrupting my every thought and a 9 month old baby screaming in the distance (I've been trying to put her down for a nap for the past hour and it appears her will is stronger than mine). I'm pretty sure people expect the pastor's wife to be out of bed, showered, dressed, and doing devotionals by 6 a.m. If she's any sort of a pastor's wife at all, she would also have a very clean house and her children would be perfectly behaved and leading the neighbors to Jesus. Chances are she's lived a charmed life, never sinned, and she is not allowed to be insecure or shy. She's got to be a leader and an example. I'm thinking she should also sew and play the piano...and sing like an angel. Most people don't want to be her friend because they can't relate to her personally but they like to look at her from afar and imagine how perfect her life must be.

I've almost been married for 15 years now and Todd has been a pastor the whole time. A lot of those years I tried to fit that mold. I tried to be what people expected me to be, what they wanted me to be. I tried to act like I had it all together but it didn't last long. Somewhere along the line I realized that the expectations were unrealistic and I could help more people by just being honest.

So... like it or not, this is me. I'm not all the things you thought I was. I'm not a super mom, a super wife, a wise leader, or a great housekeeper. I'm just a normal person. I don't know how often I will blog. I don't want to make any lofty promises and then not follow through so we shall just see how it goes. One promise I will make, is to be honest, transparent, and real. My prayer is that somehow through it all, you will realize you aren't alone. And you are normal too.