mama melody

By Faith

2009-01-21T15:00:00.002-05:00

Hebrews 11:1...Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

I'm a science teacher by trade. It's hard for me to just accept things that I cannot see. I want everything to be logical and orderly... so this concept of faith is a hard one.

If someone came up to me and said, "Buy this stock, it's a great buy, just trust me," I would never do it. I'd go home and do research and ask a million people what they thought of the stock. If everything looked good and I was comfortable with it, I'd buy the stock. And I'd call a person foolish or naive if he or she just bought the stock without checking it out for him or herself.

So what about God calling me to believe in him even though I can't see him? What about following his rules when sometimes they don't make logical sense?

I will admit that there are times when I doubt. My faith wavers. But God has impressed it strongly on my heart that when I am obedient to him I am content. While that is not visible it is still real, and it is proof enough for me that my faith in Him is soundly placed.

Contentment for me comes out of simplicity. When I make time for what is really important and cut out the fluff, life is more manageable and enjoyable.

My prayer today...
Lord, help me overcome my wishy-washy unbelief so that I can earnestly seek you and press on...Amen

Lessons From Zumba

2009-01-08T22:41:00.007-05:00

Zumba. A fun word for a fun workout. I've given up on exercise for the sake of exercise. I have to enjoy it at least a little bit or I won't do it. Put me in a gym with free weights and my eyes will be glossy before I finish five reps. Enter Zumba, the sassy, tooshie-wagging world-music workout that is never the same. I always feel a little bit naughty after a good Zumba workout :)

Dancing is not one of my natural abilities. I think I have average athletic prowess, but I have a hard time getting my hips to wiggle in one direction while my hands and feet do something completely different. I learned early on that I had to get over myself if this Zumba thing was going to work out. Ignore those floor-to-ceiling mirrors and the fit chicks in the tight fitting workout clothes. Ignore the Latin Diva whose hips intuitively know what to do when they hear the word salsa.

Fortunately, the music makes you think you're on a cruise, and the footwork is fancy enough to take total concentration, so you have little time to think about anything else. My problem was that I was thinking too hard. Have you ever thought so hard about something that it didn't make sense anymore? Guilty, right here!

I would stare at the teacher's feet, trying to discern and copy her every move. Unfortunately, the big picture was lost on me and I'd end up totally lost or at least a beat behind...not the best way to Zumba.

Tonight was different, though. I found that I wasn't thinking so much about the steps as I was the music. Paying attention to the music let me hear cues for my body and I could anticipate them. I also quit looking around the room, trying to read the crowd. Who cares if the girl in front of me knows every step by heart or that the lady on the left side of the room has cute workout capris? I did my best tonight when I focused first on the music and then on the motion, tuning out all the extraneous other stuff.

Since I like analogies and applications, I tried to think of how this revelation could spill over into other parts of my life. It seems that when I can give an activity my full attention and stop worrying about how others will perceive me, I will do a better job and have more fun. Take that energy you used to spend worrying and channel it back into the task at hand and watch it take off!

Braided Treasures

2008-11-20T22:39:00.003-05:00

I just met with two dear people this evening. Women after my own heart, I think. We've started a writing group to help keep each other accountable. As we were discussing some of the topics at hand it occurred to me that I was so comfortable with these women, even as they were offering critiques and suggestions on my work. To me, that shows a depth of character and friendship that is hard to find in this world.

I am blessed with friends who a God-seeking women. These friendships are treasures that are worth more than any material item I can think of. I watched these friends take care of those in need when they themselves were in need. Countless words of Godly wisdom have passed through the lips of my friends, accompanied by even more prayers.

This week my Bible Study has emphasized the importance of accountability and support and it brought me to Ecclesiastes. Read on...

Ecclesiastes 4:9-13 (New International Version)

9 Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their work:

10 If one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!

11 Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?

12 Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

So much truth packed into these verses, but my take-away nugget is this: Braid yourself into a friendship with others while including God, and you will have a friendship that will be hard to fail.

Just another thing to be thankful for this time of year! Friends!

2008-11-04T21:24:00.003-05:00

Dear God,

Without you, I am ugly. This past week one of my biggest excuses to "ditch" you popped up...I wasn't feeling good and either was the rest of my family. I got trapped in self-pity and used being ugly to others as a mode of coping.

I was irritable, selfish, short-tempered, and mean to my husband.

It's really amazing that you let me keep coming back. How many times do I have to learn the same lesson, that YOU are the way, the truth, and the life ?!

It's so thickheaded of me, really! I assume I know your will and your ways because I've heard it or read it before. But, really, I don't truly know something until it comes time to put it into practice. I learned that from teaching high school chemistry. Try to teach something that you don't really know to a bunch of 11th graders... they'll set you strait in no time.

I'm realizing, with the help of First Place 4 Health, that there is no "coast" option in Christianity. Either I daily go to Jesus in prayer or I don't. If I do, I will be closer to him and I will be able to know his will. If I don't, I will get trapped in the ways of the world and probably make some bad decisions. All of this comes from my verse for the week...

Romans 12:2...Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve of what God's will is- his good, pleasing, and perfect will.

Amen!

Forgotten

2008-10-30T21:45:00.009-04:00

Remember those school days when you weren't completely sure who your true friends were? There were kids who were nice to you, but when the time came for parties and dates, would you make the cut? High school was the social version of the classic P.E. choosing of the teams...who would be first and who would be last? Status was determined by who was wanted and who was not.

If you're clueless about what I'm writing about, this entry is not for you. You were one of those starlets who was picked first, got the guy (or girl) you always wanted, and never worried about being accepted socially. For anyone else, this blog's for you!

This insecurity has been swirling around inside my gut for the last few days. It peaked when I had a terrible dream that my husband wanted a divorce. (We're still madly in love, don't worry mom!) I always push these feelings back down and think I've defeated them, but then, days, or months later, they'll be back.

I remember sitting on my mom's bed as a child crying about not having any friends because I was fat. Looking back, I don't really know how overweight I was, but I do know that I wasn't accepted at elementary school because of it. To top it off, my family didn't have nearly as much money as the "sub-division" kids, so I rarely had the same new stuff that they did. Kids were cruel and I just didn't fit in.

Teasing and taunts lessened as I got older, mainly because the other kids grew out of that stage and turned to more subtle tactics. I got tougher, too, at least on the outside. I learned how to shove my emotions aside and lie to myself, saying that an invite to this or that really didn't matter to me. But it did. (I usually coped by eating more food. At least that was something I could control.)

For my sixteenth birthday my friends decided it would be great to pretend to forget that it was my birthday. All day long I went around and didn't get even one happy birthday wish or acknowledgment. Even my boyfriend was in on it! After school, one of my friends asked me to go somewhere with her. I was bummed but I went along anyway. We landed at a surprise party...but what should have been fabulous fun was spoiled by my insecurity. I honestly believed that everyone had forgotten about me.

That birthday happened 15 years ago and it is still fresh in my mind...how I felt the whole day over, not just during the party. These days, I find myself trying to make sure that other people don't experience what I hated so much...feeling left out. I overcompensate by inviting people over, planning events, etc.

Now, my old insecurities are resurfacing. Faced with an unwanted move to an unknown place, I fear that the handful of friends I have now will forget me. They will go on having fun without me and that will be that. I worry that I really don't matter..there are days when I judge my worth on the number of invitations I find in my mailbox. On days when I hear of others getting together without me, that hurts even more.

The difference is that I'm ready to face these insecurities and emotions now, and I know that the answer is not in a batch of brownies. I'm rather inclined to think that the answer lies somewhere in the Good Book, although I'm also pretty sure that God doesn't have a chapter titled, "For those who feel left out."

How about Luke 12:6&7?...Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Really, God has a way of cheering you up. What a pep talk! I love my Norah and Ethan like mad, but I have no clue how many hairs they have on their heads. God cares for me! And he really doesn't enjoy this pity-party I've been writing about. Jesus understands the hardships I've had in life. He had more than his share, but he didn't wallow in them.

Ezekiel 36:26
I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.

Lord, please remove this hardened, stony part of my heart and replace it with new, alive love that has no fear of being forgotten.

Amen!

The Digital Holiday

2008-10-27T23:23:00.003-04:00

As my family plans for the holidays, memories from the past few Christmas seasons have come rushing back. I remember that, amidst all the commotion there are the special, quiet moments. There are the days when the snow twinkles and shimmers and you almost like winter. There are the incredibly adorable things your kids do, things that no other child has ever done quite like yours.

Ahhh, the Kodak moments!

Alas, so many people these days are trying to capture the Kodak moment that there are fewer and fewer people left in the picture. I remember one time last Christmas where my two kids played by the tree while the six adults stood around snapping pictures or videoing the event. What has happened to us?

Let me challenge you to do with less this year. Have fewer cameras at your holiday gathering. Let the photo diva do her thing and give her a few bucks to make a copy and send you a CD. Or get your relative to post the pics to Walgreens and order the prints that you'd like. Maybe you all like to take pictures. Great! Take turns. You get Christmas, I'll take Thanksgiving.

Let's just not forget the reason we got together in the first place!

Even When You're Naughty

2008-10-17T23:37:00.003-04:00

My mom used to tell me, and I find myself telling my son, that I love him even when he is naughty. I especially make sure to tell him this during and after discipline, and his eyes always get a bit bigger, like he is trying to figure this out. To him, love still means something that he likes (he's only 4.) So I follow up that statement with an explanation that loving him is not the same as liking what he did...

Well, just the other day I was being particularly naughty with my food tracker. I wasn't feeling very good, I was having a pity-party, and was being particularly self-indulgent and reckless. It struck me that the message I was giving my son all along was true for me, too. That God loves me even when I'm naughty. That is such a hard thing to swallow. All my life I've thought of God as being this divine policeman, ready to pounce at any rule-breaker. So to picture God loving me even when I'm naughty, well, that puts a whole different spin on our relationship.

He definitely doesn't enjoy these times. I'm sure they sadden him and frustrate him like I get when my son disobeys. But for me, the rebellion of disobedience changes. It looses its glamor when I'm breaking God's heart rather than "sticking it to" the authorities. I think that's true in parenting, too. When we really show our kids our broken hearts they are much more likely to sway over to our side than if we act the part of strict disciplinarian.

So, even when you are at your most unloveable, you are still loved by the One who made you. Even when you're naughty. Chew on that.

A New Use for a Diaper

2008-10-12T21:55:00.003-04:00

We've been enjoying unseasonable October temperatures. Today it soared into the mid-70's, unheard of in Michigan at this time. Two years ago on this date it snowed in Grand Rapids!

To take advantage of the beautiful weather and reward ourselves with some family time, Derek and I loaded the kids, our rollerblades, and the burley into the van and set off for Kent Trails. (We picked that particular trail because it is relatively flat and we thought Derek would have more control over the stroller.)

Ethan had never seen us rollerblade before, so when we got there he was thrilled to see his mom and dad with wheels on their feet.

"I'm going to rollerblade when I get to be a grown-up," Ethan informed us.

"Really," I said, "You could do it right now. Kids can rollerblade, too, just like Miss Allyson's son Ben was doing the other day. He was wearing pads on his knees and arms and wrists, and a helmet, too. That was to keep him from getting hurt if he fell down."

"I don't want to fall. I'm going to rollerblade when I'm a grownup."

"I fell when I was a kid and I was okay," I told him.

I was thinking about the time I was on brand-new inline skates and tripped over a railroad crossing. That left me with nice road rash and a scar that took too many years to go away.

The kids squealed with delight as Derek pushed them down the trail. "This is way faster than when you jog us, mom! This is fun!"

As we breezed down the trail I thanked my husband for the outing, soaking in the beautiful evening that shouldn't be a part of October. The trees were just starting to turn and everyone was in a great mood. Awesome.

We reminisced about times past spent on the trail. The last time we'd been to Kent Trails was pre-kids. A lot had changed. We used to dream about building a house, or having kids, as we'd blade down the trail. Now we were in the middle of a huge house remodel and we had the kids. There's a huge difference between dreaming about these things and actually living them. They are so all-consuming, so life changing that you cannot fathom the life changes that come with a house and kids. But I digress...

After the "tunnel of trees" (where I languished in more memories) we were coming to a stop sign. Derek was saying something, I remember, when my skate hit a stick. Before I even realized what had happened, I was on the ground holding my left leg and watching blood come out of cracks on my right knee.

Derek looked back. "Are you okay?"

"No."

He steered the stroller over to me. I didn't want to remove the pressure from my left leg...the pressure was the only thing keeping all of my insides from falling out, I'm sure. Reluctantly I peeled my hand back and surveyed the damage. Really, it was just a minor case of road rash that happened to go halfway down my calf. Lots of chunky gravel embedded in there along with some nice red blood for color. "There go the mini-skirts," I muttered.

What was I going to do? I couldn't skate down the path like that; I'd leave a trail of blood the whole way. Anyhow, I needed to get it cleaned up. And who was going to take care of me? I'm the "nurse" in the family, and Derek had the two kids to keep an eye on.

As I hadn't fallen in fifteen years, I was not prepared to nurse wounds on the fly. Looking in the back of the Burley yielded one water bottle and one fresh diaper. Hmm... I did grow up in a family that prided itself on ingenuity. Take what you have and make it work.

I rinsed as much blood/gravel off of my leg as I could with the water bottle. That got me a semi-clean leg and wet socks. Next, the diaper. It turns out that a diaper nicely fits around my calves. I pulled the tabs tight for a snug fit. Voila! The world's first diaper bandage.

Awkwardly standing back up, I told Derek that I would try to skate back and that we'd have to go a bit slower now.

So I paraded down Kent Trails, bleeding out of one knee and with a diaper on the other. The funny thing is, some people didn't even notice. Some kids gave me funny looks, and one set of women started chuckling after I passed by. At first I was really embarrassed. Then I realized that there was nothing I could do about it, short of sitting and wallowing in self-pity. Didn't want to go there, so I plodded on at half-speed.

As I skated, a verse came to mind:

Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.
Proverbs 16:18

My pride did come before this literal fall. If I had not been overly confident, I would have watched the ground more carefully. If I wasn't prideful, I would have bought geeky looking knee pads and wrist guards and wore them. I also realized that I was prideful of my calves and bummed that they had to become road rash.

Interestingly enough, I wasn't even aware of any pride problems in this area. I guess I've learned to keep my eyes open, not only looking for sticks but hidden sins, like pride.

I Didn't Do a Thing

2008-10-06T21:32:00.003-04:00

I've been working up my distance and pace on my bi-weekly jog. I'm up to a whopping 2 miles in our hilly neighborhood, and I'm trying to get it under 20 minutes. That's a whopping improvement over 3 weeks ago when the jog was shorter and I walked up the hills. Anyhow, it amazes me how many random thoughts babble through my mind while I jog. (By the way, how fast do you have to go before you get to start calling it a run?)

I usually start off thinking over the day, then I pray for about 20 seconds until a squirrel distracts me and I'm thinking about fall, acorns, and putting away the hose for the winter. Today's jog made me chuckle, though, because it was filled with tons of writing titles. Seriously, every few steps brought a new title to mind about some article or essay that should get written. Some were funny,some were serious, but the one that stuck came just as I was started a mild descent after a long climb.

My legs loosened, my pace quickened, and it all got easier. And I didn't do a thing to make it happen. Sure I had a choice to go jogging, but the terrain in my neighborhood is not optional. You jog, you get hills.

While I was jogging (clap for me...I didn't walk tonight!) up the monster hill at the end of my route I really couldn't think of anything beyond my next breath. But as I came over the crest and relief flooded my lungs, Hebrews 12:1 popped to mind: Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

I'd thought a lot about the parts talking about the "cloud of witnesses and throwing off the sin that entangles," but this most recent job gave me a fresh perspective on the "race marked out for us" section

I don't get to pick it.

There are hills, mountains, moguls, and mud pits on my racecourse and I don't get to plan their size, shape, or intensity.

What is up to me?

Perseverance. Participation. Throwing off sin with God's help.

The good thing about going uphill, even when it comes at the end of your run, is knowing that there will be another downhill. It may be hard now, but, given time, it will get easier and then you will feel on top of the world.

Persevere.

God uses this time to build history with us. Here, he says, let me help you up this hill, because when you're on top of the world you tend to forget about me.

I don't think I will ever enjoy jogging up hills but I do appreciate them and the role they play in my life.

Worry Wart

2008-09-29T22:46:00.002-04:00

Matthew 6:25
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?

I find it interesting that when the word "worry" was first introduced into the English language it meant "to strangle." (www.word-detective.com) Over the years it has mellowed out a bit, but there is truth in that original definition.

What does worry strangle in your life?

Joy, peace, hope, fun, laughter. These are all casualties of worry.

Wasn't it wise of God to tell us not to worry about our lives? But how hard that is to actually do!

In my life, riddled with responsibility, I find it difficult to separate needed planning from the worry that robs my soul. Today, my primary worry is that I will not get everything done. Lessons graded, lessons planned, dinner prepped and cooked, kids kissed and tucked in, there are so many worthy things clamoring after me. And I go to bed at night anxious, worried that I might let someone down or that I might actually be a failure.

Heaven forbid! I think God already knows that I (and each and every one of us!) am a failure. It pains me to type that! Even so, I can feel the pressure relenting. God does not demand perfection; his utmost desire is a heart after his own.

So let me learn how to live a life that does not worry. Let me replace my worry with a trust that God will provide(time, energy, perspective, money, all of it!), and that if I am doing what God bids me, I am doing the best thing on earth for that moment.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2008-09-15T22:41:00.004-04:00

I'm always amazed at how single-minded I am. That old adage, "Out of sight, out of mind" could be plastered across my forehead, it's so true for me.

We just got done with 3 straight days of rain. That's hard on kids and parents alike, and even more difficult when you have a husband, father, and uncle all running around indoors trying to paint walls and frame in windows. It's like we got a taste of how we'll feel in February when the cold winds are howling, when going outside is never done out of desire.

Today the sun finally came out. And can you believe that in just 3 short days I forgot what it was like to be outside in the sun? Talk about a short memory! As I walked from the parking lot into my school I noticed again the green grass, the crisp fall breeze. I thought, "I need to take advantage of this while it's here. I should get outside more often."

And then I'm inside preparing lessons and marking papers, talking to colleagues and deciding on discipline measures. The sunshine outside? Forgotten. Poof. Out of sight, out of mind. How quickly that happens, even with things we enjoy.

Sorrowfully, it happens all too often with my God.

Ethan kept me hopping tonight as we walked around the neighborhood, tossing out question after question. The part that I remember the most went something like this:

"Mommy, it's going to rain. The clouds are gray. Do you think it is going to rain?"

"No honey, the rain is going away. It just rained for a long time and now the rain is going away."

"I think there is rain in there. The clouds are gray. There is no white in there."

He paused and looked up at the sky, "Does God live in the sky?"

"Something like that," I said.

"But we don't get to see him, right?"

That made me think... "We don't get to see him but we do get to see what he does. We just have to look for it."

As we walked back to our house it dawned on me that I haven't been looking for God enough lately. It's so easy to let him slip out of sight, and then he slips right out of my mind.

I'm looking forward to the startup of Bible Study this week. The best way I know to keep God in my sights is to be in the word and Hebrews 4:12 says it better than I ever could: "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."

May you keep God in your sights and on your mind. Amen.

My Best Accessory

2008-09-09T22:28:00.002-04:00

A welcome back is probably in order. I've been busy wrapping up a big writing project and now that the end is in sight I can get back to pouring my heart into Mama Melody.

This Sunday in church I listened to my pastor preach on the promises members make to their church. The promise to uphold the unity of the church, the promise to support the ministry of the church, etc. As I was sitting there a whole bunch of random thoughts came pouring through my mind. There is something about Sunday morning sermons - they really get the wheels spinning in my mind!

God was meeting me there in that sanctuary Sunday morning. The gist was, "hey, you've been too busy for me this month and I want you back." Remember that blog entry I wrote on raising my hands? Well, I finally got around to doing it this week and let me tell you, it was awesome. The tips of my fingertips got all tingly and I felt like I was reaching heaven. It was marvelous letting all of my inhibitions go and laying the praise on God. What a freeing experience! (Does it still count that when the music changed my hand flew back to my side like they weighed 300 pounds?)

It might be a little naughty, but after a few tears of joy during communion I started watching the women around the church. It's so hard not to notice the cute shirt my friend was wearing or the new baby just 4 seats over. The problem is this wandering mind of mine. Pretty soon I wasn't giving mental kisses to that sweet baby, I was comparing myself to the women all around.

What am I talking about? Thoughts like: "She just had a baby and looks better than I do right now," or "I wish my hair looked like that!"

And, as thoughts often do, they progress from bad to worse. Next on my descent into no-no land was a thought about my weight. See, two years ago I was about 15 pounds lighter. I felt like I could wear anything and it would look good. Now, not so much. I have to be much more discerning about the clothes I pick. So as I scanned the sanctuary, my mind was whirling. "I could wear that if I was 15 pounds lighter, and so on." I considered my weight to be my best accessory and it was lost at the moment. What a pickle!

Good thing that God was in that room with me. Piercing through all of the extra chatter in my mind came this clear, calm thought. "I am your best accessory." Wow. What a revelation. It wasn't about fashionable clothing or the right highlights. It was about beautiful hearts. The truth of that statement, "I am your best accessory" is still becoming real for me. What does that mean? Right now it means that my beauty comes from him. Godly beauty trumps worldly beauty if you have the eyes to see it.

I pray that I have the eyes to see the Godly beauty in myself and every woman I come in contact with. I pray that I will keep hearing God through all the clutter in my mind. Thank you, Lord, for calling me out and reeling me in.

Proverbs 31:30 (New International Version)

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Happy Birthday Ethan

2008-08-10T21:22:00.001-04:00

August has been a whirlwind!

We celebrated Ethan's 4th birthday on Saturday. As you can see it was a rainbow soccer theme. Ethan described this elaborate birthday cake to me that he wanted, so I took it upon myself to create his vision. I thought, hey, I have the Betty Crocker Bake'n'Fill. This'll be a piece of cake (ha ha!) Seriously, I made an Elmo head with this thing 2 years ago, and my sister churns out delicious delights all of the time.

I grabbed the Betty Crocker box and took out the pan. Where were the instructions? Hmmm... they were lost in my mess of a remodel-project house. Okay, I know the basics. Dust the pan with flour, use the dome pan and the base pan.

The kids and I mixed up a recipe of Darn Good Chocolate Cake from the Cake Doctor Cookbook and scooped the batter into the pans. It didn't fill the dome pan all the way up. Oh, yeah. I think I remember that it needs room to expand when baking. Into the oven went the two pans. Timer on for 35 minutes.

I went about cleaning up the mess that comes from letting a 15 month old and almost 4 year old loose in the kitchen (hey, they were SO happy!). Sizzle. Sniff. Ewww! What was that smell? I looked at the oven to see smoke coming out. Not good. Smoked meat was okay. Not smoked birthday cake.

I opened the oven and found the dome pan overflowing. Gobs of gooey chocolate cake were falling onto the heating element and burning. There was a lot of cake falling down there! I secured the kids (that means gave them a beater from the frosting to lick!) and grabbed the mongo grill tongs. A few pinches later I had the offending cake batter out of the oven. As a precaution, I put a cookie pan under the dome pan to catch any more drips.

Imagine my surprise when ten minutes late I see FLAMES in the bottom of the oven. That little bit of residue I couldn't get out was on fire. What do I do? I blew it out. No problem. Like I told my husband later, it was just a little fire. So I shut the oven door and let the cake bake. The timer still had 3 minutes left on it.

It was not to be. A minute later my little fire was back. I opened the oven door, blew out the fire again, and set off the smoke alarm. By now Norah was napping and I was on the verge of cursing. But I kept my cool, tore the smoke alarm off of the ceiling and let the smoke pour into the kitchen.

Miraculously the cake survived and we had all of the smoky smell out of the house by the birthday party the next day.

I think the moral of the story is something like: don't assume you remember the instructions to something seemingly harmless like a cake pan. Look up the instructions or you may just burn down the house.

P.S. Ethan had a great birthday party :)

Fat Pants, Skinny Wallet

2008-07-31T22:22:00.004-04:00

I've noticed a correlation between my waistline and my bottom line. You might think that I mean my wallet gets lighter and I get heavier because of all of the food I buy. That might be partly true, but that's not what I'm getting at.

Let me explain.

I'm a real Dave Ramsey fan. If you're not familiar, he's a real money and budget guru. His advice includes things like "act your wage," and he regularly counsels people to cut up credit cards and stay on a budget.

So there are months where my husband and I religiously hold budget meetings, watch every dollar, and have discussions about major upcoming expenses. These aren't easy, but we do it.

Do you know what I've found? It's during these times of living by the budget that I'm most successful with my eating goals. The rebellious gene in me is temporarily switched off and I'm able to be the "good girl," doing all the right things. This is when my wallet gets fat and I can wear the skinny pants.

But then something happens to derail me. It usually isn't obvious. It's something little, like buying an extra pair of earrings off the clearance rack. Hey, they were a good deal. It was only a few dollars. I'll wear them all the time. I deserve them, I've been so good lately! Slip. Slide. Those excuses mask my change of heart. I'm in denial until it's too late. By the time I realize what's happened, all of the boundaries in my life have been loosened. Where I used to measure food exactly, now I eyeball it or don't even bother to measure at all. Pretty soon the budget is a piece of paper to be ignored. Every day a little bit more of my resolve erodes until I've shopped my way back to a skinny wallet and eaten my way back into fat pants.

Do you know that I've only been able to put the brakes on this crazy ride with the help of our One and Only?

Psalm 121:1-3
1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber

How perfect is the imagery in this Psalm! When I'm in my fat pants I'm definitely down in every sense of the word. In a hole, ready to curl up in a ball and give up. Hope is scarce. But when I lift my eyes up I can see a bit of light peeking in. And then I remember God is with me even when I'm in a hole.

After he's pulled me up from the hole, this is what I feel happens next: he takes my head in his hands and looks me straight in the eye. "Remember, sweet one, that there is still a hole here. Just because you aren't in it anymore doesn't mean that it's gone away. Really, time is just going to erode the edges and make it bigger. You'd do best to put up a big fence and just stay away from it all together. And by the way, remember when I said I was watching over you? That's still real. And I'm not going to let you fall back in that hole. I keep watch 24/7. The only way you're going to fall back in is if you ditch me and try to do this on your own."

And so God has saved me from a few trips back down. Mainly he does this by giving me verses that speak truth at monstrous decibels. When I'm obedient and in his word, he is like the Queen's Guards at Buckingham Palace...ever watching and protecting. It's only when I ditch him and do my own thing that I stumble, slip, and slide back into that hole. I'm finding my trips down to be less frequent in occurrence and duration, and that's wonderful because I'm learning that life outside of the hole is much more rich!

A Firm Foundation

2008-07-24T21:56:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I started with a red necklace. I put that on first. I easily found a white blouse to go with it. But then the bottoms. What should I wear on my bottom half? In my undies I walked from closet to dresser to laundry basket (yes, a lot of my clothes get worn strait from the clean laundry pile!) Nothing. My favorite capris were in the wash. I didn't feel like wearing a skirt. I could imagine all sorts of clothes I would like to wear. The problem was I didn't own any of them. Finally I settled on a pair of little worn khaki crop pants. They would do nicely. A little make-up, a brush through the hair, some new Merrel Sandals, and I was off.

That was relatively painless, but I have a strange habit of dressing around my accessories. I'll pick out a necklace or something and work from that. But then there are the days I start with my bra. I'll grab one of my bras and put it on, not thinking of the color until it's too late. The other day it was black. Black is a very limiting color for a bra! And I have this stubborn streak that says, "Once you put on a bra, you don't take it off." So what happens next? I rummage through my piles pulling out anything that might work, trying and tossing the clothes into a new pile. It's a lot of work to match your clothes when you're committed to your foundation. (I feel a God analogy coming on...if we have God as our firm foundation that means it's going to be a bit more difficult to find things that "fit" our lives in this world. I mean, we dress from the inside out with God, rather than from the outside in!).

I finally donned a brown and black patterned tank. And then it was onto the pants. I have issues with pants. We don't usually get along. I think it's because I've never been in love with all of the parts of my body that pants cover. So to find a pair of pants that fits and feels well is almost a miracle. It's a daily challenge for me to walk out of my dressing area and declare myself "good enough." For years I would berate myself in front of the mirror, cutting down any imperfection. But God's been working on me. I'm a lot nicer to myself than I used to be. I used to have a closet full of clothes that would look stylish on me when I lost 10 pounds. Now I have a closet with clothes that I actually enjoy wearing right now. I used to degrade myself, thinking that was accomplishing something. Now I look in the mirror and, while still critical, think about all the wonderful things God has done with my body. It birthed 2 children. It rode 800 miles across Australia. It keeps up with a spitfire 15 month old. To God be the glory, he gave me good health and an active life. And this body, decorated or not, is the vehicle that is taking the ride.

Find some things about your body that have done great things. Thank God for them. Find some pretty clothes. Wear your nice things to more than just special occasions. Create your own special occasions if you need to. We have more control over how we feel about our bodies than we realize.

Type A Personality

2008-07-22T21:49:00.004-04:00

Boy, was I in for it. First born child, people-pleaser, perfectionist, you name the stereotype, I fit it. Ever busy working hard, serving God, and generally being a good person, I was busy. And then I had a baby. Specifically, a jaundiced baby with acid reflux who refused to nurse or sleep. But he didn't refuse to cry. Nope, he excelled at that! And amidst all of this crying and Zantac, I lost myself. In retrospect it's easy to see that I had postpartum depression, but at the time I refused to acknowledge that I was in trouble. After all, I was the girl who could do it all. And really, how hard could taking care of a baby be? Before he was born I had it all planned out. My life wouldn't change that much.

You're probably laughing your head off right now. My life wouldn't change that much! Ha! I was so naive. Nothing was the same about my life. Even my body was unrecognizable. Pre-baby, I would make lists, check things off that I accomplished, and feel good about myself. Now it seemed that nothing got checked off. My life as I knew it was gone, and I was having an awful time adjusting.

Looking back, I see now that God was using that time to pull down some pretty hefty walls I had built between Him and me. Busyness was one, approval from others was another. At the time I just felt miserable and thought I was pretty useless, but now I know that those were critical times in my relationship with God. It was during those times that I had to learn to be alone. It was in the loneliness of new mommy-hood that I really started to find Him. Isn't that a kicker? God had to give me kids to slow me down enough so I would hear him.

Maybe you noticed the motto I put on the blog. It's living life to the fullness God intended. It was after Ethan was born that I realized my life could be full in ways I never imagined.

Ephesians 3:17-19
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

And so, as I learn more about the ways God can fill me up, I pray the same for you. Don't settle. In your heart somewhere there is an area longing for something. Maybe it's a God-hole, just aching for him to fill it with some of his special, magical lovin'.

Hands Down

2008-07-19T22:12:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow I will worship at my regular place. I love the church. I love the people. I love the Godly messages. And the praise music is upbeat, helping me tune into the Lord.

Tomorrow I will want to raise my hands in praise to the Lord, but I'll hold back. That's not how I was raised. That's not what 98% of the congregation is doing. My husband standing next to me might get weirded out.

But there has to be something to this. I mean, every few weeks I feel nudged to put my hands in the air to praise God. Really, what's the big deal? I'm sure God's not going to say, "No heaven for you!" if I don't do it. But I think it's different than that. I think God wants me to put myself on the line, put myself out there for him. To him, it means that I care more about him and what he wants me to do than what I think others think of me.

Psalm 86:11 (New International Version)
Teach me your way, O LORD,
and I will walk in your truth;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.

It's this whole undivided heart business that we're working on. So pray for me that I wouldn't hold back, that I'd raise my hands proudly to God and proclaim his praises in the morning.

Link up with me

2008-07-17T08:25:00.002-04:00

Hi friends,

Many of you know that I consider this blog to be a ministry. If you know of anyone who would enjoy reading it, please send them an email telling them about mamamelody@blogspot.com

Also, if you have a web page, I'd appreciate it if you'd put a link to my site there.

I pray that this site would be an encouragement to you and all who visit.

God Bless,

Melody

Lost in the Cereal

2008-07-17T07:54:00.008-04:00

More and more I'm finding myself writing between 10pm and midnight. Not my prime creative hours, by any means. I'm much better right after a good morning shower, where ideas percolate in my head like an old-fashioned cup of coffee. But, as moms everywhere will attest, "me" time is often better known as "left-over time." So while my glorious husband tidied up the kitchen, I worked on writing for a website I'm making.

I was pretty tired, so my reflexes were dull. It took me awhile to register him standing next to me. Looking up, I heard him say, "Were you tired this morning?" My first thought was something like, "I can't remember that far back. Don't interrupt me!"

And then he put an orange juice carton under my nose. "I found this in the cereal cupboard."

I had no recollection of drinking orange juice, or even putting OJ out for the kids. The words came naturally, "I didn't do it. Maybe one of the kids put it in there."

Hubby willingly added, "It was way in the back of the cupboard."

Okay, maybe I had put it there. Lousy memory plagues me even on my best days. So to remember something on a tired day? Yeah, right!

"I guess I could've done it. I don't remember."

So then my Dutch husband asked the obvious Dutch question, "Do you think it's still good?"

And while I have no Dutch bones in my body, ten years of marriage and two kids has conditioned me well for these moments. (Plus, having left a few sippy cups of juice in the van for longer than recommended has yielded expertise in the juice expiration field.) "If it was just there since this morning, it's probably still good. Our house is air conditioned," I added helpfully.

Before my slow senses could comprehend, he had the top off the juice, took a sniff and then a gulp. "Yeah, it's still good." And hubby walked off and put the juice back in the fridge.

What he still doesn't know is that, now that I'm fully awake, I realize I didn't put the juice there yesterday. Nope. I'm almost certain we didn't drink OJ yesterday at all. But the day before we drank plenty!

Diets Don't Work

2008-07-15T11:21:00.006-04:00

Quiz time!

Q: What was the first recorded diet?

A: The all-you-can-eat except the apple diet.

God put this restriction on the apple. You know what happened. Adam and Eve couldn't resist. It was so tempting. Had to have it. There will never be another one like that. Why doesn't God want me to enjoy myself? I deserve it. So, they ate the forbidden fruit.

And we've been eating forbidden food ever since. Think about it. What does a kid do when you tell him not to jump on the furniture? Have a bouncing on the bed party! When something is forbidden our minds dwell on it all the more. And what is a diet? A list of food that you cannot have. They're forbidden. And we think: If I don't eat such-and-such, then I'm a better person. I may be fat, but at least I'm working on it and have some self-control.

Yeah, right.

Then darkness falls and no one is watching and you're pulling out all of the food that was on the "X" list, eating in secret and feeling 100% lousy.

Diets don't work.

How many diets have you tried? Did some give you moderate weight loss? Did the weight stay away?

If you're most people, you've been on more diets that you can count, had a little weight loss at some point, but gained all of it back and more. And maybe you're at the point of throwing in the towel. And to that I say, good!

Really, I was there. I had tried to exercise away my extra pounds, tried diet after diet, and nothing. I felt cheated. I spent so much time and energy planning how I was going to get the weight off and then never got the pay day.

If not a diet, then what? Give up and eat anything you want in copious amounts? Just let yourself go? Absolutely not. Instead, how about treating the source? If you're like me, your relationship with food is just a symptom of an overwhelmed, ignored heart. I'm on this journey, too, right now, and by reading this blog, you're joining me on that journey. Part of my healing has been to share what I'm learning.

What I've learned so far:

Me-bashing is a waste of time. Do you call yourself names when you look in the mirror? Do you talk down to yourself when you don't meet your expectations? Is guilt a resident in your heart? Maybe you don't even realize you're doing it. Next time you're getting dressed, try talking out loud. Everything that goes through your mind, say it. You're probably not going to like what you hear. That's the point. Stop being mean to yourself. No where does God give brownie points for self-degradation. Learn to be gentle with yourself.
Misplaced the gentle gene? This is where God comes in. Why do we think that all of the passages in the Bible about love only apply to us loving others and God loving us? Lost is the message that we are to love ourselves, too. And when your heart is heavy and calling you fat and ugly, remember that God is greater than our hearts (1 John 3:20).
1 John 3:18-20

Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.
Be patient with yourself and God. He will show up if you do, and he will do things differently than you ever expected, but it will be good. In the meantime, start participating in the life that God has given you today. Don't sit on the sidelines when everyone else is swimming because you don't want to show your thighs. Don't let another summer go by with you kids not knowing you love to play volleyball. Stop saying no and start saying yes.
Tune Out. Consciously ignore the messages that society throttles you with. Turn off the TV. Stop reading Cosmo. Replace that time with other stuff that feeds your heart...reading the Bible, hobbies you love, family time, etc. Recognize that you get to decide what messages come in and which ones you'll believe.

The list goes on, but I have to save some more for later :)

Seriously, I pray that you will find peace with food, your body, and your place in God's world. And even if you think I've just written a bunch of baloney, pray it over. Find some quiet and sit with this. I have faith that God can bring good out of anything, even baloney.

Boundaries

2008-07-08T13:34:00.003-04:00

Kids need boundaries. You've heard that, no doubt, if you stay current with parenting gurus. Kids push the limits because they want to know they're safe. They want to know you care enough to set limits.

In this Norah, 14 months, is definitely a "normal" child. She's great at boundary testing. Actually, she's gone pro. (I wonder if the all-star salary will follow? :) Nod your head if you've experienced a toddler wrenching her body away from you so she can get down and go, even if it does involve a long fall down. Her independence is comical at times, though. Yesterday she was sweeping the floor with her kiddie broom while I worked the grown-up version. Then Ethan had to go potty, so she followed him into the bathroom. Three seconds later I found her stirring the toilet water with her broom. Yuck!

"No, Norah!"

That tag line follows so many actions these days. Then come the tears, the comforting, the redirection. And I got to thinking, this is a lot like how grown-ups act with God.

We need boundaries, too. But you're not going to find many who'll admit it. Have you ever seen a kid asking to have less candy, or asking for his toys to be taken away? It's just not human nature. And the problem is, there is nobody to tell us adults that we're out of line. Imagine if someone told you to cool it- you'd give 'em a piece of your mind or ax that acquaintance.

I'm just coming off of a week without boundaries. Vacation. No kids. No bedtime. Just me and hubby in romantic Quebec City. A vacation is a time when you can follow your whims, do as your heart desires, right?

Then how come I felt so lousy on day #4?

In retrospect, that was the day I stopped doing my devotions. Day #4 was the day I got on my husband's nerves and had to pull out the 'ol PMS defense to get some sympathy. I let my boundaries slide. Back home, God and I were in a good place. Bible reading, devotions, prayer, reflection. These all helped keep my mind focused on him. But out of the routine it was hard to stay focused. I found myself coming up with excuses to skip the devos. And when I follow my feelings I get in trouble.

So I spent today getting back in with God. He got to hear it all. Psalm 145:18 says, "the Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth."

God has drawn lines in my life. Don't step over these or else...time out! And for this grown-up mama, a time-out means a tired, over-whelmed body. But when I call on God and we let it all out everything gets put into perspective. Suddenly priorities are dramatically changed and energy is renewed.

So the next time I'm blessed to have a vacation I'm taking God with me every step of the way.

Bits and Pieces

2008-06-27T13:34:00.004-04:00

Norah will not go down. Normally, Norah's bedtime is 7:30 p.m., but here we are at grandma's house, 9:30 p.m., and this one-year old is resisting bedtime with all her might. Flailing arms, kicking, screaming, she's giving this all she's got. And grandma and grandpa need to get up at some insane pre-dawn hour to go to work. I need quiet, and I need it now!

So I do what any parent in my shoes would have done. I strapped her in the stroller and took her for a walk. Change of scenery, fresh country air, chirping crickets. This all should put a toddler to sleep. As we walked I watched for signs of drowsiness. What I got instead was a perky little lady who delighted herself in showing me things that I had seen a million times before. She points to the pond where I used to cut cattails as a little girl, exclaiming "Guh!" She points to the neighbors horses and gives a double "Guh, guh!" and a little laugh (that's how she neighs.) As I walk, the tension of bedtime seeps out of my shoes and leaves me. It was a beautiful evening. I was sharing it with one of my most favorite people in the world. And I was being flooded with sweet summer memories of my childhood.

Suddenly I realized that this was how we learn who we are. I was sharing bits and pieces of my life with Norah. I was helping shape her little identity, just as mine was shaped when I stayed with my grandparents as a girl. Little tidbits that I picked up from watching my parents and grandparents interact became a window into another world. I learned that we were a hard-working family. We stuck together. We took joy in helping others. And we loved to make things with our hands. I also learned that families tie you down. When you're a teen-ager that's the last thing you long for. That's when you want to be free and test your own mettle. But eventually that season of life fades and you're left with children of your own, grateful to have a tied-down family as an anchor. It is a blessing to have roots, to be tied down.

And as I think these thoughts, I turn the stroller around into the bright setting sun. Surely Norah will hate this. Sun in the eyes is not high on her happy list. But as I watch her face in the golden glow I see her close her eyes against the sun. Soon she is breathing that rhythmic sleepy breath that makes my stomach climb into my heart. And I think, thank you Lord for keeping her awake so we could share this together. And thank you for my tied-down family that gives me a sense of belonging in this otherwise wobbly world.

Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter

2008-06-23T22:05:00.004-04:00

There is only a small fraction of women who can honestly say they've never thought about it. You, friend, have probably thought about it, too.

I'm sure there are all sorts of scandalous things you're thinking about right now. What is she talking about, you wonder?

My husband will tell you I'm terrible at saving surprises until later, so here's the scoop: I'm talking about poop. Let me elaborate.

I must warn you, reading further will expose you to TMI. But if you positively have to know the dirty details, (and I mean dirty!) read on. And if you think there is absolutely nothing funny about Number Two, you need to visit The humor archives. (Be warned that other pages at this site are not wholesome.)

For the past week our family has been suffering from a virus that affects the intestines. They aren't working properly, and that's allowed some family members to get in some extra reading time. You might call our affliction the stomach flu without the up-chuck. Get the picture?

What I can hardly comprehend is why anyone would want this problem. Yet I cannot tell you how many times I've heard women say, "I was sick for a whole week and I couldn't keep anything down. I lost ten pounds! It was awesome!" And if that isn't troubling, the replies I've heard should give you pause. They go something like this: "I'm so jealous of you. I wish that had happened to me."

Dear ones, we have twisted our minds into unrecognizable contortions. We are glorifying physical ailments because they help us attain the all important goal: thin. The underlying message portrayed is that being thin is more important than health, and that I will sacrifice my health if I could be thin. Because if I could be thin then I would be happy.

It is a sad commentary, but surely true. Women constantly compete against each other, and being thin gives you an automatic advantage. Women judge each other. Women keep score. What are we exactly fighting over? In the dating years it looked like we were vying for male companionship. But this way of relating to each other doesn't evaporate at high school graduation or marriage. Moms in play groups still form cliques. Women in the mall give you the once over when you walk into a new store. We are still competing, but what for?

It boils down to one word: Worth.

Self-worth. Value. My importance in this world. Do I matter? Do I count? Does anybody care?

If I took my answers from the Clinique lady at Younker's today, I didn't count. I didn't matter. I could tell by the way she looked at me that I wasn't up to her standards. (Get ready for this: I went to the mall without makeup on and then dared to go to the cosmetics counter!) Sly, subtle cues were used to transmit her opinion of me...condescending tone, questioning my decisions, pressuring me to buy products without trying to relate to me as a real person.

It was all I could do to get out of there without tears.

I could feel myself spiraling downward. What did I want at that moment? I wanted to be thin and gorgeous and show her! And I wanted to eat.

But for one of the first times in my life I did not let my emotions rule me. I did spend a few crazy minutes in the dressing room contemplating a splurge of ginormous proportions. But when I settled down enough to tune out the background mall music, I heard God's voice.

Sit down and pray. Stop walking and sit down and pray.

So I sat on a leather couch with the crowd bustling by. I put my head in my hands, covering my face. And I prayed (and cried a little.) And God lifted me out of that slimy pit I was in. He brought promises back to me that I had been memorizing. He reminded me that my body was a temple and that he loved me so much that he gave his most prized treasure, Jesus, so that we could have a relationship. He told me of the plans he has for me. And he whispered that I get to pick who has power over me. Would I let the Clinique lady decide how much I am worth, or would it be God?

1 Peter 3:3-5

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful.

Blessed one, may you and I be granted the unfading beauty of these holy women. This is the beauty that lasts longer than we can comprehend.

Stuck in the Mud

2008-06-21T12:54:00.010-04:00

It's kind of gloomy at our house today, with overcast skies and cranky kids. The weather forecast is for rain. And I feel exhausted.

Sigh.

On days like this I am encumbered by vague, heavy emotion. I can't get any traction. The laundry piles up, the dishwasher overflows. This downheartedness draws me to food. Eating is something I can do right now to mentally get out of my situation, kind of like a mini-vacation. Food won't talk back, won't reject me, won't require that I do anything for it. So I find myself eating leftover animal crackers from Norah's plate, snitching slicks of whatever looks appealing without even meaning to.

For me, most of this unintentional eating happens in a dreamlike state. I'm aware of what my body is doing but someone else is operating the remote control. When I finally snap back into reality the damage has already been done.

No matter what I do, I can't seem to pull myself up enough to end these out-of-body experiences. I've been thinking about why these strange experiences happen to me to begin with. At first I came up with nothing. This is just the way I am and I have to live with it. But the more I thought about it, the more excuses I found. Things like:

I am the mother of two small kids. I deserve some type of treat.
I don't have the time or money to take care of myself.
I can't overcome my childhood eating habits.

Could you add your own line? Maybe it has nothing to do with eating, but it has everything to do with feeling like a victim. Fill in the blanks:

I do ______________ because of ____________.

That, my friends, is an excuse. It saps all of the power you might have right out of you. You're left feeling dejected, powerless, guilty.

My First Place Bible study is audacious enough to suggest that an excuse is just a lie disguised as a reason. That's blunt (and rude?!) I couldn't believe my Bible Study was calling me a liar. But sometimes shock therapy is the only way to get the message across.

Consequently, I nixed the idea of wallowing in excuses. Instead, I've spent many hours reflecting and praying about what's going on in my mind. Beth Moore's book, Get Out of That Pit has been enormously helpful. So far this is what I've got:

I like to be naughty. I like the taste of ice cream. I don't want to give that up.
It's hard work to do the right thing all of the time. I can't do it on my own and that hurts my pride.
I don't want to miss out on anything. Satan's famous lie: If you do it God's way you'll miss out on something great (ie: the apple in the Garden.)
I'm looking for help in the wrong places. I've looked to my husband, exercise, and weight watchers to be my savior in all of this. They've all let me down because they are all human.

Beth Moore gives some hope when she writes, "You can get out (of your pit). Regardless of whether you were thrown in (to your circumstances), you slipped in , or you jumped in, you can get out. And I do mean you. I'm not talking about the person who seems to deal with her pits better than you do. We don't need to deal with our pits. We need to get out of our pits. You can do it. Even if you have a history of failed attempts. Even if you don't think you deserve it. Even if you've never lived anywhere else.

But here's the catch: you can't get yourself out. Try as you might, you will never successfully pull yourself out of a pit (91)."

She goes on to explain that people may help us with our problems for a time but they always fail us in the end. She urges us to look to God as our one and only Savior. And the reason we can trust him is found in the New Testament.

Phillipians 1:6 asks us to be "...confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

God is going to stick with me. Where others will crumble when I call on them, God will be there. When I'm having a downer day, God won't look at me as a smile-smasher and run the other way. He stays. He talks. He listens. All I need to do is remember to reach out and be part of the conversation.

I am working on memory verses so that in a time of testing I will be able to hear him and draw on his strength and power. I've tried for many years on my own. It's God's turn. I'm tired of trying to do it alone. Now, I just have to work on that little thing called faith.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

2008-06-19T23:28:00.000-04:00

What a splendid day it was!
We went to John Ball Zoo, had a picnic in the park, rode the trolley to Douglas J salon where the kids had their faces painted, "manes" styled, got tatoos, had juice boxes and the mommies had mini-massages. We hopped back on the trolley and went down to the childrens' museum where the kids made lion masks and played (Ellie did a dance for us dressed as a purple lioness and then they all played in the sand box.) One final trip on the trolley brought us back to the zoo, where we sadly had to go our separate ways.

Praise God for good friends, good weather, and lots of fun.

That won't be enough anyway

2008-06-18T14:14:00.003-04:00

I just had an aha moment.

I was walking past my pantry (this place and I have issues, if you haven't noticed) and I wanted some gummy snacks. Moments earlier you would have seen me eating a package of gummy snacks, so on this trip I was thinking "I want more. That tasted good and I want some more of it." But what I heard when I stopped and thought this was this:

You don't need this. That won't be enough anyway.

I must lie to myself when I take more. I must tell myself that just this little bit more will satisfy. And each time I go for more I come out wanting more. I'm not satisfied. At the end of it all I am is guilty...guilty of giving into whims, of believing lies, of making myself feel physically miserable.

My verse this week encourages me to honor God with my body:

1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (New International Version)

19Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.

Praise him that he is winning battles in my mind. This week has been a hard adjustment to a new schedule in our household. I'm finding honoring God with my body a tough thing to do when the fridge is more available and my schedule isn't so predictable. But I am hearing his voice in the pantry...so there is hope that the Holy Spirit who is in me will triumph over the whims ands ways of my own flighty spirit.

Don't Watch Me

2008-06-15T23:21:00.008-04:00

Bright red. That's what my face looks like 5 minutes into exercise. I also sport heavy labored breathing, courtesy of my friend asthma. Still, I manage to go out and jog a few miles a couple of times a week. I jog because it is the most efficient form of exercise, not because I love the activity. More calories gone in fewer minutes. This is like bargain shopping for exercise!

Understand that I live in a very hilly neighborhood. Since 95% of my runs start at the top of a hill I always have to finish my jogs by going up, up up.

One of my runs last week was particularly memorable. I hadn't been out for a run in over a week (rain/heat&humidity/laziness kept me away) so this particular day was going to be difficult. But I suited up and set off anyway, enjoying the downhill descent at the start.

As I ran I found my mind wandering, singing songs, thinking about the day ahead, saying high to two ladies power-walking...

Okay, I didn't just say "hi." I put on a show for these ladies.

What?!

Now that I've got your attention let me explain how you can put on a show while running...

No, I did not flash them. Not that kind of show! But when I run by people I start pretending. I pretend that running is easy. I pretend that I'm not completely out of breath (to accomplish this I have to hold my breath, which means that I'm even more out of breath after I've passed these people.) Ridiculous! This makes no sense even to me, yet this is what I do time after time when I run. If there are multiple groups of people I put on multiple shows.

It happens that it was a quiet morning and these ladies were my only customers. I gave a great performance as I quickened my pace and lengthened my stride. It was easy to do on the flat stretch or road at the time. As I ran my route I kept my inner quitter at bay be promising myself I could walk up the last giant hill.

You know what happened, don't you?

I was almost there, to the mailbox where I could start walking, when the ladies rounded the corner and merged onto my road. They were going to walk up my hill behind me. The audacity! Now I had to finish the show that I started earlier. I could not let them see me walk, not when I had worked so hard to give these strangers the idea that running came easy to me and it was something I enjoyed.

So I ran up the hill telling myself "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Phil 4:13 NKJV)." I did make it, but the whole time I was wondering, "Why do I care about the impression that I make on these women? What do they care if I run or walk up the hill?"

My pride was the driving force. I had an image to uphold! What I didn't understand at the time was that working hard to look good to random people meant that I was neglecting myself.

It dawned on me that I do this in other areas of my life, and I'm sure I'm not alone in this. Consider:

When company is coming countless hours are spent obsessing over cleaning and decor, forsaking my need for rest.
Painting projects, craft projects, scrapbook projects, landscaping, getting dressed, etc, are always critiqued by the question, "What will other people think of this?"

Conclusion: I am an approval addict!

I so often search out and value the approval of others that I lose my own sense of self and I forget to seek God's approval. Colossians 3:23 tells us, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men..."

So the next time I am out running I hope you see me running for the Lord. I want to be red and drippy with sweat. I hope my breath is ragged when I greet you. And, as I pass by, I pray that I won't be trying to surmise what your impression of me was.

God's stamp of approval transends any that I or someone else could offer. And if we have God's approval we're going to have an inner beauty that no cosmetics counter or beautiful dress could hope to surpass.

Happy Grandpa's Day

2008-06-11T21:05:00.001-04:00

Today artsy Ethan was making a Father's Day craft for his grandpas while Norah ate 1/2 a can of peas (she kept asking for more!)

Anyhow, Ethan colored a piece of white construction paper and was glueing phrases (by painting glue on the backs of paper slips) about grandpa on top. These included things like:
- Grandpa lives with grandma.
- He plays toys with me and makes me happy.
- Grandpa eats all the stuff. His favorite food is chicken.
- It would be hard for grandpa to hop up the stairs on one foot.
- He has grey hair.

Well, as these things go, I had Ethan at the table with glue, Norah in her highchair, and dinner on the stove when the phone rang.

I'm convinced that kids have radar. It works something like this: Bwoop... bwoop... "distracted mommy at 10 o'clock...proceed to mischief. Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

I was in the process of telling my friend on the phone that I needed to get back to Ethan and the glue when it happened.

I saw the paintbrush arc through the air. It was one of those slow-motion moments where you can't get there fast enough.

The tiny droplets of glue spread upward across the breakfast nook. And the descent, well, favored Ethan's head. Yes, that's right. Look closely in the picture at his head. Those are glue drops! The smile shows just how proud Ethan was of his accomplishments. He went on to finger paint with the glue all over the glass top table.

Did I mention that just 2 hours earlier I was getting all the knots in my muscles rubbed away during a fabulous massage? I can't decide if the massage was wasted because it's effects wore off so quickly or if it was divinely placed because it gave me the capacity to react with humor and the presence of mind to grab the camera and snap a picture. I'm leaning toward the latter. What do you think?

Melody

"D'OH" I'm More Like Homer Than I Care to Admit

2008-06-08T17:41:00.006-04:00

Sorry, Mom. I watch the Simpsons every now and then. I know you tried to stop us kids from watching them. I mean, what mom wants her kid to watch a disrespectful Bart tell authority figures to "eat my shorts?" But the truth is that I married a man who enjoys the cartoon. So, for the sake of marital harmony I gave in and started watching the show now and then. To my utter shock and amazement I've actually

enjoyed watching them to the point I laugh
learned a thing or two from them

It embarrasses me to admit that Homer and I share some common traits. I'd rather be compared to Lisa, the smart level-headed one (most of the time.) But Homer does stupid stuff and pays "stupid tax" (Dave Ramsey). And sometimes that's me (and probably you, if you care to admit it...don't worry, I won't stop being your friend.) Read on...

"Why did I do that?! Why do I keep doing the same thing over and over again even though I know it's wrong and it'll end up badly?" Have you ever asked yourself these questions? If we're talking straight to each other I'm sure we'd all confess to that secret something that's got us hooked.

For me it was (and still occasionally is) middle of the night eating splurges. Not sure exactly why I get up at 1 or 2 am and plow through cookies, chocolate, cereal, birthday cake frosting or whatever else happens to be tasty and readily available. What I am sure of is that I do it, often in a zombie-like stupor. And when I'm done I cover my tracks. You know, putting the candy wrappers in 3 different trash cans, hiding the used carton behind the brand new one (MJ!) eating a little bit of everything so nothing will be missed. Oh, I am sneaky, erasing my tracks like a pro.

My dear, if you find yourself in the same boat it's time for a Dr. Phil moment: How's that working for you? For me Homer says it best: D'oh! (Wanna hear it? Click here!) D'oh

For many years, probably 15 of them, I resolved daily that "tomorrow will be the first day of the diet that would change my life." In my dreams I'd be 25 lbs lighter in a few months, a few dress sizes smaller, that much more popular with the cutest boys chasing me. Life would be perfect.

You know the ending. None of that happened. I kept eating and that kept all of my fantasies at bay.

Back to the original question- "why did I do that?" It's taken a lot of soul searching and even more of God's wisdom, but I'm getting closer to an answer.

Every action, no matter how destructive, unreasonable, sinful, or seemingly insane is done because it gives us something we think we need. This might be a something you don't even realize is lacking in your life. Call it subconscious sabotage.

So what could eating chocolate chip cookie dough at 2 am give me?

Release from the demands of a baby and preschooler
Companionship without rejection
Satisfaction for my rebellious streak...I was good all day, but now no one is looking...

I've had the worst time breaking free from this middle of the night eating. But God has been more faithful to me than I've been to him. He's put people in life that have prayed me through this. He's prompted me to memorize his word so that when I'm tempted I can fight back with his strength, not my own (that's where Homer and I part ways :).

Matthew 4:4 Says that, "Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

Maybe you've heard that before, but let it be new today. God's feeding us with his words. His morsels are tastier than Mrs. Fields cookie dough, cooked or raw. Let him give you an infusion of his stuff regularly and you'll start using his food to fight your food problems. Can you picture it? A divine food fight! God flings spaghetti on Satan's head everytime you toss out a verse. Oh...there went a glob of gooey mashed potatoes when you quoted Psalm 40:1-3! And we all know who the winner is when God fights. Let's make sure we're on the right team.

Who's Reading This?

2008-06-08T17:36:00.001-04:00

Hi!

I'm wondering who's reading my blog.

If you'd be kind enough to leave a comment I'd sure appreciate it.

Looking forward to what you have to say...

Melody

Strawberry Salsa

2008-06-04T23:32:00.003-04:00

Follow this link to a great recipe for Strawberry Salsa from Southern Living Magazine.

My only suggestion is to use half of the suggested olive oil/vinegar mixture.

Norah.One Year

2008-06-02T21:51:00.002-04:00

Devilish Dove Chocolate Sayings

2008-06-02T20:20:00.003-04:00

It'll be a close call, but "Never Paid Full Price" has a good chance of beating out "Devoted Mother and Wife" on my headstone. My coupon clipping system borders on obsessive and my passion for shopping garage sales has reached an all time high. Mom always taught us to shop the sales and the way the price of gas keeps going up, sometimes I think this way of life is mandatory.

My most recent coup was when I scored eight buy one get one coupons for bags of Dove chocolate. Scouring the ads showed Target running a sale on the candy. I made a run for it and came out with 16 bags of chocolate for $20!

Why do I think I can handle this?
How are 16 bags of chocolate going to help me fit back into my size 10 wardrobe?
Wasn't it obvious that I was addicted to food and that food had become my idol?

So I piled the chocolate into the back of my pantry where it would be "safe." Where I wouldn't be tempted by it, you know? Where I wouldn't think about it's creamy texture, the rich taste spreading slowly on my tongue. Where my husband wouldn't notice a mountain of chocolate and how it slowly disappears.

I'd stop by the pantry

...on my way upstairs to get a crying baby
...on my way downstairs to enforce a time-out
...to reward myself for all of the hard work I do
...on my way to the laundry room to wash yet another soiled sheet
...to get the phone and talk to my husband who's out of town
...to lift my spirits when I feel insignificant or neglected

And the Dove people know what they are doing. They put little messages on the inside of each candy to reinforce the little voice in your head that tells you "it's okay to eat chocolate...you deserve this...one little piece won't matter..." Some that I recall:

Temptation is fun… giving in is even better...
Be mischievous.. It feels good...
Hey- Why not?
Follow your instincts.
Naughty can be nice.
Lose yourself in a moment.
Don't think about it so much.

For your average person these are light-hearted messages written in the name of fun. For me these messages are the voice of the devil.

Whoa, you might say, isn't that going a bit far? Not really.

If Satan can get me to start thinking of going down the path of temptation I'm already half-way there. God wants us to take our thoughts captive and keep them above board. Little messages in chocolates that tell me to give into what I feel...well, that's how I got into this predicament to start with.

Thankfully the Holy Spirit gave me strength last week to ditch all of that chocolate. (I unloaded it on some willing colleagues :) Praise the Lord that last night, as I woke to tend my screaming 3 year old, that the chocolate wasn't there as a solace and that I could bypass the pantry. (I actually stuck my tongue out at it as I walked by. I think Satan was sitting in there pouting.)

I realize that my struggle with food and weight issues are going to be with me for the rest of my life. But I also realize that this is a blessing. It has brought me into a more real relationship with God than I ever could have imagined. Glory to him. Amen.

First Place

2008-06-01T20:42:00.005-04:00

FIRST PLACE

a commitment I make to you, Lord.

New every morning.

YOU ALONE deserve this spot of honor.

I deserve nothing

Yet you lift me from the MUCK & MIRE

you save me from myself.

Forgive me, Jesus

my sins abound.

I forget you

I push you aside

I leave you WILLINGLY

I pretend to love you and be your friend

and yet you would still die a thousand

deaths for me

You love me WITHOUT ceasing

when I return and repent

Beauty is what you see in my broken heart

Make my spirit

just as you are

Full of grace, wisdom, compassion

May your glory and love spill out of me

this day.

-Amen

Shoes from the Deep

2008-05-28T23:11:00.003-04:00

I just came up for air. Putting away laundry in my long, narrow walk-in closet from 1975 was already hazardous to my health, but add to that an unruly, ginormous pile of shoes and you've got down-right treacherous conditions.

The humiliation came when I realized that 99% of these shoes were mine. Hubby has most of his stored systematically in another closet. So what was in this pile, you wonder? 7 pairs of sandals, 2 pairs of flip-flops, a few ballet flats, a few heels, tall black leather boots for the days I want to add a little sass to my ensemble, short black boots for those pants days, running shoes, work shoes, hiking boots, 3 pairs of slippers, and a few others to round out the lot. And that is just for the summer season.

Would you believe that I've spent the last few weeks shoe shopping?

My top reasons why I need and deserve new shoes:

I just had a baby and my feet changed sizes
My old brown sandals are too worn and need replacing
The airlines will only allow me one bag, so I need versatile footwear for our vacation
It's too hard to do ZUMBA moves in running shoes

I don't think the problem is buying or needing new shoes. I think my problem is in letting go of the old shoes. I should clear them out. Give them to a thrift store. Yet here they linger, cluttering my closet and obscuring the shoes that I really do like to wear.

Mark 10:21

Jesus told the rich young ruler "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."

In two different ways today I have been struck by the word come. Yes, it means to "to approach or move toward a particular person or place," but in order for that to happen you must leave another place. When you come to Jesus, you leave something else behind.

What shall I leave behind as I seek Jesus? A cluttered life littered with metaphorical shoes. The hurried soul that clamors for more stuff. The razzle-frazzled mom that puts too much emphasis on doing rather than loving.

And what shall I receive as I approach the Lord? The promised treasure. His peace. His timing. Contentment. Perspective. A teachable spirit. The ability to say no.

Tomorrow I will probably wake up and go to a couple of garage sales. I love a good bargain! But, with God's grace, I will make wise decisions bases on my family's needs rather than my inborn need to acquire more and more stuff.

Let Me Introduce Myself

2008-05-27T21:53:00.009-04:00

So, let me introduce myself. I'm Melody.

I've been thinking a lot about how I want to come across in this blog. I want to sound smart, funny, cute, successful, wise. You're going to read this and want to come back for more because I have so much relevant, real stuff to say. Right.

Truth? I just spent way too much time trying to pick the right font to type in and give my blog the "perfect" name. So be glad it's not me running the show here. I'm giving it over to God, and I think he's going to show us extraordinary things.

Maybe you're like me and you struggle with food issues. I've tried so many diets. I've read a ton of books. I know it in my head but my heart just won't follow. Have you ever felt like you were just destined to be big, fat and ugly? That was me. I was all but ready to throw in the towel and stop trying. Praise God that I've started working through the First Place Series. This Bible Study is like your mother...willing to call you out on things that other people won't touch with a ten-foot pole. So this week I'm looking at temptation. You know, the chocolate chip cookies that call your name in the middle of the night, or the slick of the slightly melted ice cream around the edge of the carton?

1 Corinthians 10:13

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

Break this down with me:

Temptation is an everyday event for everybody.
Temptation can always be defeated with God's help.
God is faithfully there to help you, 24/7.

How has God shown up to help me?

He's put these verses in my head so when I'm headed for the pantry they pop up like Neon signs. "Here I am. I am faithful. You're being tempted right now, but with me you can win this thing."

You know what I've said the last few times this has happened? "Not right now, Lord. I really want that popcorn. Can't you come back and we'll deal with this later?"

Oh...that really reveals a rotten spirit, one I'm ashamed to be writing about! But it's where I am at right now. And the beauty of the Lord is knowing that he's going to be there tomorrow and help me try again. He's forgiven me and won't have me beat myself up for it. I wish I could say I know for certain that victory is right around the corner, but I can't. What I can say is that 30 years of weight struggles have turned into a way to get closer to my God.

Only He could spin such a burden into such a blessing.