If These Walls Could Talk

It has been quite the week here in the parsonage. One of those weeks where I think to myself...if these walls could talk.

Actually, I think Sunday night those walls were trying to give me a heads-up. I filled the bathtub to take a bath, and that's when the water began seeping though the bathroom floor/kitchen ceiling, raining through the ceiling fan light fixture. We surely aren't the first to get that lovely experience in this parsonage.

Many of the pastors and their families that have ministered here in our church over the past 152 years of its existence have lived within these walls. They likely knew what I am currently learning; that ministering to people is much like parenting your children. They can bring you the greatest joy or the deepest pain. Either way, they drive you to your knees before The One you truly serve, with tears of joy or tears of pain.

For me, there's a sense of comfort within these walls, a sanctuary of sorts. Not only because it's home, but because I know that God sustained those in ministry before us, some through the same trials and joys of life ...and some through much, much tougher ones. He will see us through just the same.

I've learned something about myself this week. There are trials and circumstances in my life that feel like mountains. Huge mountains. I tend to wander around at the base of those mountains...pacing. Viewing them as permanent fixtures, because after all, they're mountains. That view, leads me to pray that God would be with me, sustain me...which is fine...but what if, what if they're not meant to be permanent. What if God is just waiting for me to exercise some faith in who I say He is, in what I know He's capable of. What if I believe He is the God who does the impossible? What if those mountains are meant to be moved?

Time to stop pacing at the foot of the mountain. Time to start standing on the truth of His Word that has never failed me, not once.

...Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you. Matthew 17:20-21

And when He does it, may the first words out of my mouth be glory and honor to Him.

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Because I'm a Mom Blogger...

Friday I promised you all some pictures. Let the record show that I actually followed through this time even though blogger wouldn't cooperate with me ALL DAY LONG.

Friday night we totally got our butts kicked on the football field. I say "we" but it was really not me...all I contributed to the game was sitting in the bleachers and chatting while consuming hamburgers, nachos, and various sugary treats. Despite the loss, Julie had fun at her first official American homecoming.

Here's Joe and Julie at the homecoming dance. I was not actually there to take the picture...but don't think I didn't think about it ;) Cute aren't they...poor Joe, I shouldn't be so hard on him. He's not actually done anything wrong...except being alive and a boy and interested in my Norwegian daughter. He did friend request me on facebook, so that earned him some brownie points...it makes spying a tad bit easier...not that I'd ever spy *cough*

I'm sure I'll eventually come around from tolerating Joe to even liking him...as long as he doesn't fail any of my impossibly high standards. And there I have another post...my semi-impossibly high standards...I could also blog about how I hope Joe doesn't know I have a blog. :)

To be fair, I'm not being hard on boys. I have three of them. I will be equally unexcited about teenage girls that come along. Just to prove it to you, last Friday night at the game, a little girl in Noah's 2nd grade class came up to Ben and I to ask where Noah was. Ben started to tell her and then saw my "don't you dare tell her where my sweet little boy is" before we both looked at her and said, "Sorry, not quite sure" Don't judge...it wasn't a lie, I wasn't exactly sure ;) I'm not gonna help the girls find my son...2nd grade or not! Oh I kid...a tiny, tiny little bit.

Moving on...

Ben and Julie before the game...

Seriously, it was adorable. He looks good with a daughter...it's a good thing we borrowed one.

All the queen candidates (Julie is 2nd from the left)

This is Julie and Leika. Leika is the other exchange student in the school.

The End

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The One I've Been Dreading...

I've been avoiding my blog so that I can avoid this post...because I don't really want to write about it. It's a bit of a sore subject. I'll summarize and then we can just move on without mentioning it again...sound good?

Let's Bullet it...

• Trained all summer for a 1/2 mary.
• 1/2 mary was last Saturday, Sept. 12th.
• Paid $40 to register.
• Friday before race begin really not feeling well.
• Barfing is next...hello dehydration.
• Realize I'm not going to be able to do the race.
• Weeping and gnashing of teeth.
• Drag myself to race to cheer on my running partner, Billie, who does great! So, so proud of her.
• Pity party for myself continues...apparently I don't know when to leave a party.
• Wrestle with God on the timing issue...begging Him for some wisdom.
• Pity party over.
• There will be other races.
• The end.

No need to send condolences. Trust me when I tell you I've spent enough time feeling sorry for myself. Way more than enough.

The barfing happened for a reason...His timing is perfect...even when I don't understand it.

There...enough of that. Let's move on to some fun updates that I know you'll find interesting ;)

• Tonight is our homecoming. Julie gets to be one of the honoraries on the homecoming court so Ben gets to walk her across the field. How cute is that? I will totally have pictures for you.
• Julie's date for homecoming is also the homecoming king and one of our star football players. It may be just me, but I'm finding that as a parent of a teenager now, it doesn't matter how nice and wonderful the person they want to date seems, I still tend to view them as the enemy. *smile*
• Happy Friday! WOO HOO!

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He's a Man Now...

Conversation at our table two days ago:

Me: Eli, don't you want more *something I can't even remember now*?

Eli: No, I don't like it anymore.

Me: Since when?

Eli: Since I became a man.

Me: When did you become a man?

Eli: Two days ago.

He never misses a beat. Love him.

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The Journey

I ran the 10 miles on Saturday. I've had high hopes of hitting double digits since last April when I started training for this dang thing. Double digits is sort of a big deal...to me anyways. I never dreamed I'd be able to run that far. I never wanted to run that far...until God set something into plan that I couldn't say no to.

The 10 miles wasn't as great as I'd pictured it to be, but I accomplished it...so we're gonna go with "good enough" on that one.

Next Saturday, the 12th, I will be starting the race at 7:30 AM. God help me. He started this. And all these months He's sustained me, even though along the way I sometimes lost sight of the purpose, He was always patient and faithful to gently remind me. Recently, a course of events has really caused me to question what He's doing amidst this running thing...I think I thought He changed His mind...He did not. He just wants to show me how limitless He really is.

And that my friends...is a little scary to me. It shouldn't be. I wish I could tell you that I have no doubts...that my faith is so huge I'm not concerned one bit about what He's asking me to do. But even though I know He's with me, and I know He's gonna sustain me, I also know the pain that's involved. Months of training has made that very obvious. It all comes down to this...

Even when it seems and feels impossible...do I trust Him?

I do. It doesn't take the scariness away, it just gives me the the strength to jump...or in my case line up with 400 some runners at the starting line.

That race next Saturday...it's for Him.

Thanks to all of you for joining me on the journey!

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It's Better Than Nothing...I Guess.

Apparently when I don't blog often I just feel like updating you with bullet points.

Here Goes:

• I am super excited for Labor Day Weekend because we have NOTHING planned. The past, I don't know, 100 weekends or so have been busyness. I heart having nothing planned.
• Saturday I am scheduled to run 10 miles, we'll see how it goes. My body is not cooperating lately with my running plans. If the 10 goes well then I'm gonna go ahead with the 1/2 mary on the 12th, if it doesn't, then I'll surrender in tears graciously and try to remind myself there will be other races.
• Julie taught me to knit on Saturday. I am ridiculously slow. I'm also a huge idiot because I wanted the scarf I'm making to be THICK...thick means more work, more time. Dumb. Maybe I'll just change my mind and decide to make a dishcloth.
• I am so excited for new episodes of The Office. I'm watching old ones to get myself all geared up.
• By the way, right now I am unable to knit and watch TV at the same time because I have to pay complete attention to the knitting to make sure I'm doing it right. It starts to make me dizzy after awhile. I might start taking Dramamine before I knit.
• I've lost that loving feeling about blogging right now. It will probably return eventually. Maybe.
• Is it Friday night yet? I'd like to get the weekend started...the weekend of NOTHING TO DO! YAY!
• Happy week to you!

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I'm THAT Mom...

Before Julie, our exchange student, arrived I was quite confident I'd be the cool mom. I mean, the math alone is in my favor. With my own children, I'm 23, 24 and 27 years older than them which likely destines me to uncoolness in their eyes...eventually. But with Julie, being that she's not really mine, I get to be 14 years older, making the generation gap just small enough to keep me cool, right?

Wrong. Turns out, the age difference doesn't matter, when you're a mom, you're a mom. And to add to it...when you're me, you're me. :)

It doesn't matter that she is technically not mine.

It doesn't matter that she is smart, and seventeen years old.

It doesn't matter that she is brave enough to leave her family and country to live with strangers...

I still...

• ask a million questions.
• ask around to find out the reputations of her new friends.
• feel the need to protect her from making any choices she might regret.
• feel the need to dislike and question the intentions of any and all teenage boys, except for the ones where I personally know their mothers, because for some reason that makes a difference.
• ask what happened during the day...with the who, what, when, where, why, and how following.
• tell her not to stay up too late.

One day, I even asked her to change clothes. Yeah...way, way uncool. The benefit to her not being my "real" daughter is that A - she wasn't purposely trying to push the limit and B - she didn't baulk or complain, but simply changed clothes. It may have been harder on me than her, because it sealed the deal: I'm officially THAT mom ;)

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