"Jesus, make me more like you. Mary, help me to be more like your son."

I kind of forgot that I said this prayer, while on a visit to church, for some quiet time with Jesus on my lunch break this week.  I finished it with, "Even if I have to suffer."

I want to be more like Jesus.  I desire to make it to heaven, and to help others to get there as well.

I have been thinking about persecution.  What does God expect of me when I am being persecuted for His sake?

I am to accept it. 
Allow it.  Quit struggling against it.
Hold it out to Him as a precious gift that He will use for the good of His kingdom.

What did Jesus do, when his best friends rejected and denied him on his way to the cross?  He accepted it. 

I know that when I am hurt or rejected by people, it is an opportunity to grow closer to Jesus. 

I wish that this week, when I had heard those unkind words being said about me, from even my friends, that I would have willed myself to listen to that voice in my head that said, "You are being persecuted."  Instead, I internalized it.  Like I always do.  I was hurt, and then I reacted by becoming angry.  And.... anger never works.  We are not to return evil for evil. 

A lesson that I am learning: 

Keep Trying.  Don't give up.

He sees your struggle to do something better.  It matters.  So keep trying!

Lord, give me humility.  Help me to accept when others are unkind.  May I seek you, no matter what the cost.  Help me to recall what it must've have been like for you, when your closest friends denied you as you went to your death.  And may I react with love, as you did, even in your most painful final hours.

Make of us a Saint

First of all... thanks Jackie for the e-mail, titled "Write, Sister".  I thought of it the other day, but then I threw that idea right out the window... "Who wants to read it?"  Well, I guess I know I have 1 follower, at least!  Thanks for reading, Jacks!

On the ride to work today, I was listening to a CD.  The speaker had spoken at the Magnificat Women's Conference, which is held locally.  I love to go, but haven't made it for the last few years.

The speaker is a father of 4.  He was talking about praying with his children at night.  He said that each evening they pray, "Father, make of us a saint, no matter what the cost."  It made me a little emotional.

No matter what it costs? 

I think I'm a little afraid to pray for that.  You see, I want to be a saint, too.  And I want my children to be saints.  I want us all to be more holy, because it will bring us closer to Jesus.  But I often think, "that's not possible for me."  Yet, I have learned so much from the lives of the saints, and many of them were ordinary people like me. 

I'm just a little afraid.  I know that I hold back what God deserves to have.  And I think I do it because I am afraid.  I'm afraid where God might take me.  I guess I have trouble trusting my heavenly Father, who loves me the most.  What a strange thing.  I know He is in control, and here I am, still trying to hold onto my own sense of control.

Sometimes when I pray, I gather the courage to say, "May Your will be done in my life."   And then, it's like I'm waiting... for the thunder.  I, who have been so blessed in my life, am still afraid to fully trust in God. 

And then while eating supper tonight, I had an epiphany.  I was thinking... "Where have I heard that phrase before?"  Your will be done.

Every single time that I have said the Our Father, I have asked that His will be done.

Our Father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
They kingdom come
Thy will be done
On Earth as it is in heaven....

I have said that prayer a thousand times.  Now I will mean it when I say it!

Quit Stinkin' Thinkin'

This is me.  I know that there is a battle going on in my brain daily, and I am my own worst enemy.  I conjure up old memories and agonize over the wrong things that I have done, or the things that I wish I could do over.  I went to the prayer meeting on Monday evening and this was the line that really struck a chord, "Quit Stinkin Thinkin"!  I laughed out loud when I heard it.  This fits me perfectly.  I've been doing some "stinkin thinkin" lately.  On occasion, I drive myself crazy with my "stinkin thinkin".

So let me say before I go any further, please forgive me if I have ever offended you by the dumb things I have said without thinking.  I don't want to be that way, but I am.  I am so far from perfect.

So to humor you, I'm going to let you in on some of my recent "stinkin thinkin".  (Part of why I'm sharing this with you is so you will know you're not as bad as you thought you were!!)

     * One time my brother-in-law was venting to Doug about his job, and after listening, I blurted out, "I love my job".  (I know...great timing, great consideration.  Where's the love?)

     *Some of my high school girlfriends will remember this one.  One evening we were out at the bars, and I was already dating Doug at the time.  A guy or two hit on me that evening, probably not in a very appropriate way.  I was getting annoyed.  The next guy who said something to me really got it.  He just said something... I don't even remember what, actually I don't even think I heard him.  I turned around and said (and I'm really embarrassed to share this) "Run away squirrel!"  OMG - what was I thinking?  Turns out, this guy was just striking up conversation and he happened to be a very nice guy.  Me, not so nice.  The look on his face made me wish I could take it back a thousand times.  He was hurt. 

     * When I was younger and I worked at the Dairy Dream, we were always bustin' butt to get out of there on weekends so we could go out.  We had just closed up and there was a woman in the drive-thru with her 4 little boys.  She ordered cones for them.  I was so annoyed that she was there after closing time, but I made the cones.  When I brought them back to her, she said, "oh, I wanted them in cups".  I gave her a dirty look and spoke in an unfriendly tone.  I didn't realize till later, that she probably did order them in cups... I was just in too big of a hurry to get out of there, that I didn't bother to listen.  Selfish!!!

     * When I was in the 8th grade, our student council did a fundraiser for Valentine's Day.  You could order a flower and they would deliver it for you.  Most people did it anonymously.  There was this boy in my class who made fun of me all the time.  He made me so mad.  SO MAD!  I didn't realize till later, that that is an 8th grade boy's way of saying, "I like you."  Apparently he had ordered a flower for me and they came to deliver them during gym class.  I can't remember why, but I wasn't in class that day.  When they delivered flowers, they must've forgotten the one he ordered for me.  No big deal for most people, but he threw a fit in front of the whole class (or so I was told).  So now, everyone knew that he liked me.  I was so embarrassed when my friends told me this.  To top it off, he and his friend came up with a new nickname for me that day, "canyon."  Yes - we were in 8th grade.  It had something to do with my chest.(although I had nothing going on there whatsoever at that time... well, as a matter of fact, I still... um, never mind... not going there).  Anyway, I was livid by the end of the day.  We had lockers right next to each other.  I opened my locker, and the flower had arrived.  I was so mad that I grabbed that flower and walked over to the trash can and stuffed it in... right in front of him.  Then I stormed off.  I regretted that one immediately, too.  I think he forgave me, because he still had a crush on me in high school.  Poor guy. 


     I could go on and on. 

But there is an up side to these stories.  Through the "stinkin thinkin" discussion,  I have come to realize  that I am not defined by a few stupid things that I've said or done in my past.  That is not who I am.  That's why I need to leave it in the past.  When I stand before God, he is only going to see his daughter.  And He will love me the same as he loves you, your friend, the homeless guy, or the millionaire.  I know this even more, because I have children of my own.  It has really helped me to understand my relationship with God.  I love my children equally.  I will never stop loving them.  They cannot do things to make me love them more.  They cannot do things to make me love them less.  There will be times when I will be proud, and there will be times when I am disappointed.  But I will always love them the same.

Furthermore, love is not an emotion.  There are emotions attached to loving someone, but love itself is not an emotion.  Sometimes you do have to work at it.  But in perfect love, you can't just stop loving someone.  You just love them, because you do.  And God won't stop loving us.  He just loves us.  It's that simple.

Having a Good Friend

Sometimes I feel bummed about how some of my close friendships have dwindled over time.  As you get older, things change... your schedule changes, your responsibilities, and especially your availability.  I hate that I don't have the carefree timelessness that I used to have, where I can sit and talk and listen and not feel like I have to run off and get the next thing done.  Doug and I have this running joke.  He gets texts all the time from friends and I say, "It's nice how you have so many friends.  I don't have ANY!"  I know that's stretching it and being a little "Oh, woe is me."  But I don't have as much time to nurture my friendships anymore, even though I know they're still there.  I just have lots of friends in the same situation.  We are in the thick of it,  raising our munchkins and trying to put them first, and every once in a while, saving some time for ME.

Lately I've been thinking about how God uses my friends to teach me things that I just don't seem to be getting or don't want to.  I have a close friend who also has 6 children.  This friend is always so welcoming.  It seems like she always has an extra someone at her house.  I drop in on occasion on my walks to the park with my children, and often times, she just drops everything and they come along.  I always think... "am I like that?"  No... I let the kids have friends over, but not that much.  And when they do have friends over, something happens to make me tell myself that I am NOT doing this again.  Like the last time, when Chloe and Rachel had a friend over, I found 1000s of pieces of broken spaghetti all over the upstairs and on the roof.  I was mostly angry with myself because I had no idea this was happening. 

Back to my friend....I  am also unlike her because I don't frequently say "sure, I'm not busy, I can come", instead I have an agenda for each day, and I usually put way too many things on that mental list, and I get annoyed with myself when I don't get it done, even though any normal human being could not have accomplished it with the same 50 interruptions I've had in my day.  Things like....

     "Mom - WIPE MY BUTT!!!!"  Will can honestly wipe his own butt, but I do prefer to know that he's wearing underwear free of skid marks from time to time
     "Mom, Libby's climbing on the kitchen counter."
     "Mom, someone let Libby outside."
     "Mom, Holly said stupid." - It's a cuss word in our house.  When I get really mad, I just say STUPID really loud and it actually makes me feel better.
     "Mom, Will hit me."  "Holly hit me first".
     "Mom, I just cleaned up the bedroom and the little kids wrecked it again!" (sorry Brooke, I feel your pain)
     "Mom, come look at these pictures of dogs, which one do you like best?  Can we get a dog?  Everyone has a dog?"  Followed by a list of 10 reasons why we should get a dog.  They're wearing me down with this one.  Over and over again.
     "Mom, I'm hungry."  They're always hungry!!!

Anyway, to continue with the point of my story.  My friend and her husband invited us to come out to their permanent campsite one evening.  Shortly after we got there, it began to rain.  Before we knew it, it was pouring, and my friend and I were sitting in her camper with 13 children.  Not much fun.  But she didn't complain one bit.  She invited us all inside.  (I know you're wondering where the men were.  Outside in the rain of course.)  After a few minutes and realizing it was not going to let up, Doug and I high-tailed it out of there.  Today, I reminded my friend of that adventure and I told her how I always think she's so patient and welcoming.  She laughed at me.  Her side of the story: After we left that night, her husband told her that she was being grumpy and she should probably call us and apologize.  We both had a good laugh.

I guess you never really know what people are truly thinking.  Usually what you think they're thinking... they're not really thinking.  So no worries, right???



    

Big Thrills

Today Doug and I (well mostly Doug) were painting our shed.  By the way, Doug mentioned to me this evening, "If you want it to rain, just have Doug Speck paint something outside and it will surely rain."  So anyway, after the rain, it was sunny again, and the kids were looking for a rainbow.  They ran to the back yard and found a double rainbow.  Then they all began shouting about the beautiful rainbow and the neighbors came to take a look.  When we were all out there, they were talking about how awesome this was, and Mr. Will punches his fist in the air and screams "AWESOME!!!" in the most elated voice, and then runs away.  We all burst out laughing. 

This is one of the things I love about being a Mom.  I get to experience the joys of all their firsts.  I get to watch them experience something new and beautiful for the very first time and watch how it lights them up.  I often forget how awesome some things really are, because I take them for granted, but moments like these remind me of how blessed we really are... with something as simple as a double rainbow.  That's just "AWESOME!"

You have got to be kidding me!

Last night I was exhausted by the time I went to bed.  Doug decided to go for a walk, and he didn't get back until around 11:00.  I had just fallen asleep when I heard him walk in.  I could hear footsteps in the other room and then, "Oh, - - - - !  Lori stay in the bedroom!"  Now I was wide awake wondering what the heck just happened.  I was thinking, oh my gosh, there has to be something alive in there.  I'm laying in my bed, listening to him scurrying around, too afraid to open my door.  As I'm saying prayers that he is okay, I can't hardly stand not knowing what is going on in there.  After a few minutes, I'm calling out, "Doug!"  He walks to the door and tells me that there was a bat in our living room.  What the heck?  I was just in there about a half an hour ago.  I asked him how he got it.  "With a tennis racket, just like in the movie, The Great Outdoors."
  
                                                     


I said, "Why didn't you just tell me that?"  He said, "If you would've walked out and seen that thing, you would've screamed so loud you would've woke the neighbors."  Yeah - thank God he was home.

I'm now thinking to myself.  How the heck did that thing get in here?  And will there be more?  He says to me, "It probably came up from the basement.  The door was partly open."  Which reminds me of a time that I went downstairs to do laundry at 1:30 in the morning and something flies right past my head.  I screamed and went up to wake up Doug.  We never did find that one.  Thank God our washer and dryer are upstairs now.  But, now I'm uneasy thinking about how 1 got in the house.  Doug's secretly happy, because there was something flittering in our bedroom walls since we moved here 7 years ago.  I used to wake up in the middle of the night to find my husband throwing shoes at the ceiling.  Like... what is that going to do???

So we both go back to bed and I'm thinking about this whole thing... Doug yelling "Don't come out of there, Lori!" and then running around the living room trying to get it just like John Candy.  And I just start laughing.  The whole bed was shaking.  This life.... never a dull moment.

The Field Trip

Our second graders went on a field trip a few weeks ago.  Since I do not have my own classroom of students as a Title One Teacher, I usually don't go.  But our principal asked me to go along this time.  There were two boys in the second grade class who got in trouble for fighting on the playground that week.  My mission: be their chaperone, don't let them get into trouble, and don't let them do anything fun.  Nice!  How is this going to work?  Both the boys in my group were in trouble for fighting WITH EACH OTHER. 

On the bus ride there, we squished into a bus seat.  That's right!  Me, Fighter 1, and Fighter 2 packed in like sardines.  I had 1 cheek on the seat, 1 cheek in the aisle, and the bus driver was eyeing me down.  Apparently they've tightened those rules on the buses since I've been a kid.  I guess we won't be getting out of our seats as we go over a railroad and jumping at the perfect moment so we can hit the bump and go flying to the ceiling.  No siree, "No arms, legs, or other body parts in the aisles, please!"

From the start, I could tell that the one boy was a likeable kid.  The other one... oh  I was trying hard to think about the things I could like about him.  He was interesting.  It didn't take me long to realize that if I didn't keep him busy, his boredom would get him into trouble (messing with the kids in front of his seat, behind his seat, even under his seat, and putting his hands in Fighter 2's personal space, just talking too close, and putting his hands in his face).  I could see why these two had problems.

Anyway, I realized that my options were very limited to keep them busy, so I started talking.  I asked questions and then talked some more.  I talked the whole way there and the whole way back.  I think I was more tired from talking and thinking of things to talk about than from anything else that I did that day.  My mouth actually hurt.

As we were talking, I learned a lot about them.  I came to realize that these 2 young men didn't have very good examples in their lives.  One's mom had been in an abusive relationship.  The other didn't even know his mom.  They were also discussing the horror movies they both had watched.  It was so discouraging.  It seems like half of the students I see nowadays come from broken homes.  And it's always the children who suffer the most.  These guys were no exception to the rule.  Along with the need to be taught right from wrong, how to behave appropriately, and how to get along socially with their peers, they just wanted to be loved.

They did pretty good on the field trip.  Although the one boy couldn't wait to drink his "Yahoo", I think it's called.  Some sort of chocolate milk in a can.  It was the size of a pop.  He opened it and chugged the entire can at the first drink.  I was waiting for him to breathe.  No breath, just a straight chug.  That was a little um, interesting. 

On the bus ride back to school, they were both tired.  I noticed that the 1 little boy had laid his head on the other boys' shoulder and had fallen asleep.  I tried to move him a bit, because I was worried this would cause problems between the 2, but the other boy said, "It's Ok, I don't mind."  As I sat there watching them, I was marveling at how 2 little boys who didn't seem to get along very well at all, were capable of being so loving toward each other in a different circumstance.  The lesson for the day...when you least expect it, people will surprise you.