Dream Jobs

Don't you ever wonder what you might have been if you weren't what you are? At least in the employment division? I am currently an event planner. I make sure that we have a venue, flowers, candles, food, chairs, tables, lights, clean restrooms, guests, happy guests, traffic flow, parking...and do all of that perfectly so I'm ready for curveballs...like the table catching on fire in the reception hall right as the bride was walking into the adjacent room for her wedding (yes, it happened).
It never gets dull.
But, I often muse about made-up jobs I could have.
1. Editor of social media and blogs. I'm not all judge-y about grammar. (Clearly. I just used the word "judge-y.") But, I really like for people to use the right version of their/they're/there; here/hear; your/you're; loose/lose, etc. If I could surreptitiously edit folks' status updates without their knowing, I would sleep better at night. Some people are better at a myriad of things and spelling may not be at the top of their list. It's ok! I just love to read well-written and correctly spelled sentences. Call me crazy. And if you find misteaks on this here blog, you are welcum to coment.
2. Professional Sleep-Trainer
I am very good at sleeping. I have slept through numerous large storms, tornadic activity, (Is tornadic a word? My spell-checker says no. A quick visit to my online friend says yes.) dogs barking, etc. I go to sleep depths heretofore unknown to mankind. Even with a child. For a small fortune, I can train you to sleep deeply and well! (I make these claims with no knowledge as to whether they are true.) Wouldn't it be a DREAM job? (pause for pun-induced laughter)
3. Pizza Taste-tester.
I'm sure someone employs folks to taste their pizza. Unfortunately, my waistline has little tolerance for carb-loading. But in a dream world, I could do this job every day; NOT gain weight, and get paid.
4. Optical Center Opinionista
I recently had to go alone to choose some new frames for new glasses. I had my infant in tow, but he was more curious about his cheerios and the familiar-looking child in the mirror. He was no help, really. I guess I didn't HAVE to go alone, but I had an hour or so unaccounted for and needed to get that marked off the list. I'm good at eliminating the ugly. I narrowed it down to five. I nixed the red ones. Too Sally Jesse (if you were born after 1982, just keep moving...you don't get it) But what I needed was the OCO. Someone who will tell you if the frames make your cheeks look like the fourth member of the Chipmunks. Or if you suddenly look like Sarah Palin or Woody Allen. I chose. Hubby likes them. But my friend Cristina would agree, you need someone there to tell it straight. "Honey, those frames bring out the yellow in your complexion. Why don't we try a nice tortoise shell?" I could be that person.
5. Travel Book Writer
I suppose this one could be within reason and my reach. But Fodor's never called. And my non-profit/education salaries never afforded a hobbyist approach. I can hardly imagine a more interesting job, though. Go to museums, dives, and landmarks on someone else's dime and write about it? Yes, please! Maybe one day...
6. Tour Guide...of? Hmmm. Just about anything.
Yes, I realize this too could be within my reach. But fate has me settled in Rock Hill, SC, at the moment. There's not much to tour around here. I did give tours of my college campus for the admissions office. One summer, I did at least one tour every day for them. I loved it. I love talking with people, sharing history, answering questions...it never got old. When I'm old and gray or have the luxury of retirement, I am trotting to the nearest museum or historic site and will be a volunteer docent. I will make visual aids and sing songs. I have no shame...all in the name of TOUR GUIDE! One of the best tours I ever took was at Sainte Chappelle in Paris. The guide was mesmerizing. And though I had visited there twice before, she utterly changed the experience. She made the 12th century chapel come to life. I am inspired just thinking of her.
7. Floral Designer
Aside from allergies that may or may not be to flowers, and no idea how to get into it...I adore looking at floral arrangements and all the possibilities of modern floral arranging. I'm not really talking about FTD online. (ugh) I mean beautiful simplicity like this:

That level of floral design is stunning and creative. I am in awe. In my dream world, I can create such designs.
8. Finally, online Scrabble or Words with Friends player
I really could play all day, every day. I don't. But I could. Each turn is a puzzle, a challenge. My pulse quickens with the K or J pops up in my rack. I am a geek. I am an unashamed word geek. Last I checked, word geek doesn't pay very much. Our payment is a triple-word score bingo using a "Z." Cha-ching! Or should I say SHAZAAM?
We'll just leave it at that.
What would YOU like to be??

Hey...what happened?

I promised more posts. I opened posts last week and watched the cursor blink. I had nothing to say. My head was full of {insert whatever delightful word you prefer for "snot" here}. I was coughing up a lung (literally!), and I generally felt pretty crummy. Thoughts were not forming in my head. Shepard was sleeping like a dream, but I was having some trouble between all the nose-blowing and wheezing.  If there's anything I know from the last year or so, lack of sleep makes me a zombie. I cannot form thoughts and see them through. I wonder if that's how dimensia feels. As though you know there are some thoughts in there somewhere, but you can't access them no matter how hard you try.
My asthma and allergy meds have kicked in, and I'm working on evicting the snot.
That's all I have today. Just wanted to drop in and wave the flag of life. I'm still sad that I will never be on Oprah. It's her last week of shows. Not sure why she never invited me. We would have had a blast on a road trip.

Meditative....um...Thursday

To sleep, perchance to FEEL HUMAN.
One time, I went nearly a year without a full night's sleep. There were a few sprinkled here and there, but never more than two in a row. I have some kind of new respect for that Duggar lady with the 200 children. She has basically been breastfeeding for 20 years now. How does she seem so nice and normal? I knew that I didn't do well without proper sleep, but I had no idea what it was going to do to me over the long term.
I remember staying up all night in college to both read the book AND write the paper (in one night, yes...go go Gadget Speedreader...made a B on that, thankyouverymuch). And I remember being utterly fascinated by my rice krispies the next morning. You'd have thought I was on some sort of illegal substance.
Thankfully, Shepard is seemingly on track now for sleeping through the night. He still has a little spell here and there, but is really learning to self-soothe. I am on the road to feeling like a productive citizen of the earth now, and he's on the road toward independence.
While it's difficult to teach him this little lesson of independence, I know that it's for his well-being, both now and in the future. All I really want to do is go pick him up, squeeze him in reassurance that Mommy will always be there and rock him gently while gazing at his eyelashes in the low light of the nursery.
One of the greatest gifts my parents gave to me was the gift of independence and self-control. They allowed me to make decisions within my age range knowing I might choose unwisely. But they gave me tools all along the way, talked to me continually about right and wrong, better and best, and most of all...God. I had a strong sense of God watching me, not to smite me upon the first sin I committed. But watching OVER me and knowing what I was up to. I didn't want to hurt His heart. Now, I certainly wasn't perfect. I told my share of lies and half-truths (those are lies, too, I know!) and gossiped, etc. etc. But I do feel that my parents equipped me for making good life choices. I can only hope and pray to give Shepard the same tools.
This is my mother's heart for Shepard. To raise an independent, compassionate and God-fearing man. There are so many things I want for him; but if we can't get those going, anything else will be for naught. So, we'll start with sleep. And I imagine, we'll move on to table manners soon...if I can just keep that half-toothed grin from melting my resolve and giving in to every indulgent squeal...

Who's in Charge Here?

When I thought about what might comprise my meditative Monday post, I reflected on what my pastor spoke about just yesterday. We did an introduction to the book of Revelation. No, he's not crazy. Yes, we're all excited. There was a lot of background and context, and some disclaimers. The main thing I walked away with is that just like the rest of the New Testament, Revelation is about Jesus Christ--who He is, His character and nature. The first sentence of Revelation tells us that. Everything else in Revelation continues to let us know who is in charge. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
He's bigger than our fears, smarter than any terrorist, outside of space and time; and he has already conquered death, hell and the grave. He's in charge. The world doesn't look like it yet, but it's still true.
What I didn't realize is that Osama Bin Laden would turn up dead last night. I watched the news with mixed emotions today. When did we as a nation decide that it's ok to dance and celebrate over death? Did Osama deserve death for what he's done? Probably. But I am not the judge of the universe. Don't all of us deserve death for our sins? That's what my Bible teaches. That's why we need the cross, the sacrifice.  I am not comfortable with rejoicing over the death of a human. You can reduce him to sub-human if you want, and justify your bloodlust. But we have not conquered evil. We have not overcome the true enemy through our military force.
Revelation says that we will overcome through the blood of the Lamb, the word of our testimony, and loving not our lives unto death. We destroyed the face of evil, but not evil itself. Only when Jesus brings the Kingdom of God to fruition on earth will evil be eradicated. Until then, we can pray "Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Jesus taught us to pray this prayer because the Kingdom of God CAN be realized on earth through our living out our lives in love, deference, compassion and forgiveness...NOW. I am reminded that Jesus died even for the lowliest, even Bin Laden.

I leave you with the Beatitudes and the picture Jesus himself drew of a world upside-down. A world that paints peacemaking and meekness as strength. Blessing enemies, turning the other cheek and all kinds of ideas that are counter-intuitive in our current world system. Imagine a world that worked like this:
(Matthew 5)
3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

In the spirit of Easter...a Resurrection

I sense the Lord calling me to two things right now. Worship and writing. And the need to do those things in a disciplined fashion--to remind me who's Who and why that matters. One I'll likely do in the privacy of my car, office (office?), home...and one I'll share with you.
Some things won't be for "public" consumption, four readers, but there are so many things yet to work out on my journey and funny things to share and musings to post. I'm working on a sort of framework to give me some guidance. Flashback Fridays are coming. And probably Meditative Monday. Let's all hope that the actual posts are more interesting than the alliterative topic-starters.
I'm building altars here. Reminding myself of the works that God has done. I'm laying groundwork for faith, working out what God is doing. I'm dreaming big dreams and resting in a hope that is bigger than I am.
There should also be laughter and the occasional sharing of sorrow. These are things that life is made of. Mountains and valleys, as it were.
File this one under meditative Monday. Since the sleep fairy has laughed at me tonight, we'll start here. Resurrecting a blog. Hallelujah!

I will never be on the Oprah show

I realized late last night that I will never be on the Oprah show. It was a sad realization. Mind you, not that I've done anything great or had any bizarre or horrible tragedy befall me. I haven't worked really, really hard to achieve something in particular. Without any pretension whatsoever (I hope), I just kind of always assumed I would be on the show someday. I know. Crazy talk. Kind of like when I was a kid, I thought that there were filmmakers outside my bedroom window capturing footage of me as a child that they could use to make a documentary about me when I got older. Yeah. I would perform plays and songs for them so they'd have good stuff to use. Yeah. Really.

Confession is good for the soul.
Again, I don't think I have these amazing talents or have anything special going on...I always kind of assumed I'd be in the Olympics too! For some reason, as a kid, when I watched the Olympics I imagined myself there. Now, I never took up a sport seriously or trained...but I was still a little disheartened at the age of 25 when I realized during the Sydney games that that ship had probably sailed for me. I think I went to the Y a few times more than normal in those next few weeks, but to no avail. I was too old for gymnastics and swimming, and had no interest in taking up archery or professional weightlifting.
Destiny is such a silly word in a lot of ways. I think we build it up to be something bigger than it is. I don't think anyone ever TOLD me that I would do grand and fabulous things, but I was certainly encouraged to do the best I could do at whatever I did.  As silly as it looks when I write it out, it was always a given that I would be or do something noteworthy. Not necessarily to be famous, but to be...at least something to report about in my hometown newspaper...and be on Oprah.
So, here at my new age of 36 (ugh), I wonder about all those dreams and visions of grandeur. Did I miss something along the way? Is this it? Is it ok if it is? I mean, I am crazy blessed. I know Jesus and was able to get married and have a healthy sweet baby boy. I love my church. I'm trying to live out Kingdom of God principles.

I wonder if I will stumble into something larger one day, or if I could already be in the big middle of it and not see it now. There is only one way to proceed, of course. Love God and serve others. If something "bigger" comes along, I'll be ready. If it doesn't, I'm doing what I ought to be doing. This is actually a pep talk to myself. Thanks for listening in. And if you know Oprah, and want to see about getting me on the line-up for the final season for doing...nothing of remarkability (except making up the word remarkability) lemme know. Today I told God that he could really truly have every part of me (again. I have to do this often) and turned over whatever dreams and desires I have. His dreams will be so much greater than anything I can concoct. No matter what His plans involve, whether I ever get another mention in the venerable Newnan Times-Herald (GA), and whether anyone else perceives me as successful...I must daily give over my little plans and walk in His ways.

His grace is sufficient for me

( ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.  2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

For the record, I realize my life is nowhere nearly as difficult as most of the world. I know that I am not living in nuclear fallout-land in Japan or in the slums of Kibera in Nairobi, Kenya. I am truly thankful for the "mansion" we live in. Though not anything near a mansion by American standards, most of the rest of the world would be thrilled beyond measure to have electricity (anytime of the day or night), clean running water (anytime of the day or night), a refrigerator, sewage system, multiple rooms with beds and clean sheets, internet access, a pantry full of food, etc.
With that said, we still sometimes find ourselves ill-at-ease in our circumstances. I think this is God's way of keeping us dependent upon Him and looking to Him for answers. It's no game. Our obedience and dependence on Him and walking out the steps He lays before us will help us to walk in His will and lead to our fulfilling His purpose for bringing His kingdom to earth.
(I might have just matched my long-winded pastor for a long-winded introduction!)
I had to lay groundwork.
I have been restless. And I still don't know why or exactly for what. I feel so much lately that I "just can't take it anymore..." What? Exactly? I don't even know. There just seems to be this time and energy and resource pressure that nearly takes my breath some days. Like I don't have the reserves to carry out all that is required of me, rather less give anything "extra" to anyone. I've become claustrophobic in my world. Aside from dreaming of making off in the middle of the night with my boys for some remote cottage in the corner of France with our slender savings account (seriously, not even sure we could get the plane tickets and a sandwich at the airport)..and asking God to show me what to do next...I have nothing.
Except an overwhelming call and unction (is there a better word for it?) to worship God. To just open my mouth and sing something. To be in His presence. To demonstrate my dependence. To open the eyes of my heart (groan for the 90's worship over-cliche) and listen for His voice.
You see, he almost ALWAYS talks to me during worship. I mean, I hear the words of sermons and they nourish me and cause me to think. But when it comes to a word of encouragement or admonishment, it really always happens while I'm singing. Sometimes it's the small voice, reminding me of a truth and sometimes it's just the actual words of the song.
Sunday was just such a day. The sermon was about God touching us through others, physically touching us for healing as James speaks of having the elders of the church lay hands on the sick and weary. And as Jesus demonstrated over and over in his walk on earth. The altar call was for the weak, weary, broken, etc. I was at the computer to run the words for worship. We would sing while folks were being prayed for, so I really didn't feel I could "abandon post." "Oh, but I am weary," I thought. Just. So. Weary. Overwhelmed at every turn. Physically tired. Mentally pooped. Spiritually crawling. So I sat there and just sang. Sang a song about being weary and tired and coming to the "rock" and the "fountain" for healing. OK. I'm hearing ya. But I still just wanted to be prayed for. (I was so close to enjoying my pity party)
And then we started singing that simple song, "Amazing Grace/how sweet the sound/Amazing Grace/now flowing down/from hands and feet that were nailed to a tree/His grace flows down and covers me..."
It COVERS ME. Covers. Not splashes a little on. Not drips. No flecks of grace. It COVERS ME. The doubting parts of me. The mean parts of me. The ugly parts of me. Impatient and disobedient parts...oh couldn't we all go on and on with that list? And his grace, the grace that Jesus embodied as he died, is sufficient to cover my doubts that God is working out something on my behalf. It is enough to cover that feeling that I've been left to do all of this alone. It is enough, or I say that what Jesus did on the cross is not enough. So, it is enough to believe that God will cover me with enough grace to get me from this life-claustrophobia into a place where I feel like I can be used by Him again and that I will not crumble to bits at any moment. It's enough. It just must be. For when I am weak, then He is strong.

Getting it out of my head

Keep waiting on a change of pace, a change of scenery, a change...of something. I can just about smell it it seems so close.
For some reason, I have been focusing lately on what I'm not. This is dangerous ground. I tend to believe that comparisons are from the devil. Really. From the devil. We are to be imitators of Christ and also have earthly mentors in the faith. I have found myself looking around and wondering how I'm not farther along in many areas.
Just to get it off my chest, I'm going to just get some things out there.
I don't make homemade baby food. I'd like to. "Oh, it's so easy, you just go buy some avocado and butternut squash and cook it all up and keep it in the fridge..." And you forgot the part where I have to remember to go to the store and buy butternut squash then figure out how to get it cooked. Those things are not self-explanatory like some other vegetables I know.
I don't make crafty projects. Crafty projects would be awesome if someone else would gather the materials and give me some inspiration. But what do I do with crafts? We don't need more stuff around the house. And there really just isn't a lot of stuff we need at all. I'm all about trying to find interesting uses for things or repurposing, but crafting just for the sake of crafting is overwhelming. Too many options and too much time. I want to be a mom who makes baby food and crafts, but I'm not. It's all I can do to make sure we have clean clothes, food that doesn't need a decoder ring in the house, make bottles, stock toiletry items, pack a lunch, manage the budget, find clothes that fit my ever-changing body, work all day, and stay up half the night, and fit in the teensiest bits of leisure or anything that might qualify as fun. And I do all of this while praying without ceasing and keeping a song of praise in my heart. I say that last sentence as a true hope and only a tiny grain of sarcasm. When I don't have those items on my to-do list, I usually just end up in a puddle of tears.
I'm hoping one day Shepard will understand that I did not make one-of-a-kind onesies for him and puree organic broccoli with goat cheese. I use Pampers instead of cloth (cringe!). I buy Earth's Best and Gerber ready-made foods. I'm still working out how to do more with less time, but most of all I want to be found faithful and loving and full of grace. My craft paper and sewing machine might have to wait until retirement. And I will always and continually hope for a chef to live with me full-time.

His mercies are new every morning

Sorry for the oh-so-glum post. I just needed an outlet, apparently. I'm trying to re-focus my energy and affections on God and get some perspective. It mostly has to do with feeling like I now I have two full-time jobs: the one that pays and being a mommy. I actually like both of them. But I don't like feeling so wrecked and exhausted all the time. And we've been battling sicknesses...and it's just been plain crazy. Thankfully, things slowed down after the holidays. I need to find some peace and a new rhythm in life. One step at a time. I just need to look at God and not at the problems. He's got the problems under control. And now...to bed I go!

Writer's block

Whenever I try to blog these days, I end up crying and erase what I've written. My head tells me there's no hope in sight. My heart and faith tell me that God is capable of miracles. My tears tell me that I need a miracle. That's all I'll say for now. I also need some sleep, so perhaps if that can happen in the next few days my perspective can change some. Ironically, Jars of Clay is singing "I need Thee every hour" on my iTunes right now. You have to smile at that, huh?

New Year = New Hope

I am a complete sucker for the idea of "New Year." I love anything that's NEW, fresh, clean...like getting a new calendar...with nothing yet filled in. It seems filled with promise. Even though I have lived through 30-some-odd new years now, I still get a little giddy at the idea of turning the page to a new chapter in life. I have my usual list of resolutions...they don't really change much from year to year. I'm ok with that now. I hope I am always interested in living a little more healthfully and desire a stronger relationship with the Lord and others. January just offers me a little respite to order my life a little and take inventory on what needs to be tweaked.
As of today, we have very few commitments penned in to the calendar. That is such welcome relief from the last few months. I have several creative projects up my sleeve that I'm excited to get started on...as soon as my computer gets back from the "doctor" with her new hard drive. Saying goodbye to 2010 is bittersweet. It's the year that brought us Shepard Giles Jones (my little sweetpea!), but also buried our dear Papa Jones. 2011 stands to bring even more change, as we adapt to being a family of three and generally moved forward with life, family, church and friends.
I am focused on finding some rest and peace in the presence of the Lord. Especially in light of a little lesson I learned over our holiday break. First, we had several challenging days and evenings with Shepard while traveling. Our usually happy and routine-loving baby was suddenly replaced with a little screamer. Granted, he was being asked to eat, sleep and play in new surroundings...his usual quiet-ish days being completely disrupted by slightly familiar smiling faces and lots of attention. I don't blame him. I think sometimes we all feel like just screaming or crying in the face of so much change, but we've learned how to cope or at least mask/hide our feelings enough to get through without letting the whole house-full of people know.
As I held him in the nice, quiet sleeping space we had provided and tried to feed him, he opted to wiggle, stretch, arch his back and refuse the nice warm bottle available. As his mother, I was frustrated. There was no good reason for him to refuse the food and sleep being offered. I knew he needed both. I did everything in my power to provide them and gave him every opportunity to accept them. It tried the outer edges of my patience, but of course, I was determined that he would eat and sleep. But what a more pleasant experience we both might have had if he could have submitted willingly to the process. Now, I know he's a baby and has no sense of this...but...
As I traveled I-85 North last week, without my too-sick-to-travel hubby, I listened to some praise music, as that always puts me in a frame of mind to hear from the Lord...and it's just enjoyable. I reflected on our time over the holidays...very challenging in many ways...the Lord let me know that I had been acting much like my little guy lately. Resisting REST in His strong arms and NOURISHMENT by His word and presence. OUCH. Of course, He knows what I need so much more than I do. He stands ready and patient, but He won't hold me down and force me into the quiet place. He just keeps gently trying to hold me and work with me until I comply. How beautifully patient He is. I not only want to enter a SEASON of rest, but also a lifestyle of more faithfulness in this area. Even in a flurry of activities, there can be rest in Christ if I will continually rely on Him for my strength and wisdom in how I spend my time. REST. REST. REST. And not the sitting-in-front-of-the-TV kind (that should be called UNrest).


Two-week-old Shepard rests and praises.

 Deep breath. Rest. Worship. Welcome, 2011. Let's do this.

Legacy

When you go to a church with a name as pretentious as "Renovatus," you're allowed to have a MANIFESTO instead of a mere mission statement or something.  ;) We recently rolled out a newly-tweaked manifesto. You can read it here.

Illustration by Jake Page
jakepageillustration.com

Recently, we enjoyed a sermon about the part of our manifesto that reads "We ARE your grandmother's church, and your great-grandmother's church, and your great-great-grandmother's church. We embrace continuity with the church's past. We seek intergenerational and cultural diversity. We will harness the classic spiritual practices and truths that transcend time and place. We are a local representation of a timeless community."

Many newly-formed churches think that they're reinventing church for a new generation and have abandoned all aspects of the liturgy and practices that former generations have practiced for...generations. One of the things I dearly love at Renovatus is the mix of old and new music and liturgies. I love that last week we had prayer for the "grandparents," and there were at least 40 down at the altar as we blessed them and prayed for them to "dream dreams" a la Acts 2 and to continue to be a vital part of our mission to renovate Charlotte. And of course, to share their wisdom and love with younger generations.

At our small group last week, we went around the circle and shared about our grandmothers and their spiritual legacy. Some had no real "legacy" within the church and broken relationships. Many of our grandmothers endured some kind of physical or emotional abuse at the hand of their husbands. But of the all the joyful, wonderful and sometimes tragic things we shared, I kept hearing about the RELATIONSHIPS we had with our grandmothers. Never once did anyone mention "and in 1987 she got this awesome game system for Christmas!" Some had grandmothers who were awesome cooks, some were real characters, some were Godly, some spoke of Jesus but not in the way you might hope (!)...but what came through was how they related to us and to our families. Strong women and sometimes broken women doing the best they could. It really made me reflect on the legacy I want to leave to Shepard and generations further down the line. I want to be known as a woman who brought the Kingdom of Heaven to earth through my prayers and actions and words. I want to be known for showing grace and mercy. I want to have gentle answers and a ready hug. I will likely never be the best-cook-in-the-world grandma, and that's ok. But I really do want to be known for encouraging, supporting, and loving those God has seen fit to send into my life.
Especially as we enter a season of giving, I have been wrestling with wanting to buy a bunch of "stuff" for Shepard, because it's fun to give gifts and is expected in our society. We somehow tie gift-giving automatically to the measure of our love. Commercials seem to tell us that in order to show our love, we must buy such-and-such. As Christmas approaches, I really want to give the gift of a rich, Godly legacy to those around me. That's something that will get passed down through the ages. It will not become tarnished and moth-eaten or go to the land of unwanted toys. Join me?

Man, oh little Man!

I just realized that I have been so busy keeping up with baby jones over on http://www.shepardjones.com/, that I haven't posted a more recent picture of him on here. I mean, I know my legion of followers probably keep up with both blogs...BUT! For shame! I spent so many posts thinking and dreaming of the little guy that I would feel like I'm betraying this blog who's been with me for MORE THAN FIVE YEARS if I didn't do a proper baby post.

They're letting us take you home!? Don't they know we have no idea what we're doing!?

Those first few days were rough, but every moment we've all grown more confident and relaxed and realize that we have a great support network for advice and help. Shepard is a joyful baby. He is always smiley and happy to see you. He is so alert and attentive to all that is happening around him, soaking up what seems every ounce of information from every minute he's awake. He is starting solids and has found his feet. I marvel at everything he's learned since he was so tiny in my arms. I marvel at everything we still have to teach him, but look forward to it all. As we embark on our first few holidays with him all together, I am astonished at how much things have changed since this time last year. Two days before Thanksgiving in 2009 I saw him for the first time on the ultrasound. He was just a little blob--I think the size of a peanut or something--and we didn't yet know he was a he. We spent the better part of our drive to Tennessee last year kicking around names. We were SURE baby was going to be a girl since we had no guys names that were agreeable.


Our little "Pumpkin"

 Some people say that they didn't know what love was until they had a child. I think that's an odd thing to say, as my life has thankfully been filled with love. But there is a special kind of love mixed with a sense of protection and care that sort of floods you. He is God's gift to our family, and I'm so thankful on this Thanksgiving for my squirmy long-legged blue-eyed giggle machine. Welcome to the holidays, sweet boy.

It's not that I am out of things to say...

Rather, I have so many it feels overwhelming. But I think for my own sanity, I need to let some of them out. In writing. Here. I just do better when I am writing through my thoughts rather than letting them roll around in my mind and bump into one another. If motherhood has been anything, it has been an exposure of all in my heart and life that are still under construction--my impatience and need to perform and clutter problem. And my curious confusion about working. I want to have work to do, but I don't seem to want to have to go into an office every day for 8 hours to do it. I want the satisfaction of having done something concrete and adult interaction, but the cost of time away seems too high for me to bear.
So, I've been wiggling between the rock and the hard place. And still feel at an impasse. I'm trying to make it cozy here at the impasse and make it work, but I can't get past the fact that something is still not in place as it should or could be. And for that, I will just have to trust the Lord. Which may be the purpose of the rock/hard place.
That's where I am today. Looking for a pillow or something soft. 'Cause this place is not. It's just all hard. I'm just trying to make it to Christmas. It seems like Christmas might be a nice stopping off point for my head and heart. A chance to breathe a little. And the promise of a new year with new hope.

Thoughts from a Mommy

Hello, Blog. How are you? My name is Shelley. We used to be good friends. Then I neglected you for a needier being. I have missed you, but really with the lack of sleep and all, haven't had much to say or time to say it.
It's amazing how quickly the world shifts when you are faced with a set of tiny blue eyes and a hungry mouth. I used to think I was busy, and I was...but this is a whole new level.  I couldn't imagine what folks meant when they said "things will never be the same." I knew things would change, but it's kind of like the mystery of marriage...you can't know or begin to know until you're on the other side of it.
Things I now know:
1. God is good. I have always known this, but He showed up for me in a mighty way in those last few days of pregnancy and in the delivery room. Delivering a baby was by far my biggest fear on this earth. And even after hours and hours of lying there waiting for the big moment and enduring some pain, I had such a peace when Nurse Jessica said it was push-time. I felt like I had a job to do, and the easiest thing would be to just do it. I was also intensely curious to SEE my little guy, so the particulars were secondary. And, frankly, I shielded myself from much of the gory parts by keeping my eyes closed. I highly recommend that. My sweet Jerod was so great to cheer me on and read the nurse's face for me verbally so I could just push and do my job. I would also like to thank my Mom who was a champ, praying for me, keeping me together and even cutting the cord!
2. Lack of sleep should be classified as a mental disorder. The simplest decisions became monumental..."should I let the dog out now or warm a bottle first?" This question might take me three full minutes to resolve, at which point I could have gotten both things accomplished and moved on to sorting the pile of tiny socks. I will break down at the least thing because I just feel paralyzed by indecision...not out of insecurity but just out of sheer inability to make all of my thoughts connect and get to an outcome. I'm still working through this. I'm pretty sure Jerod thinks I have lost my mind. I surely hope I find it again!
3. I don't hate mornings. This statement should go down as a real, live, certifiable miracle in the Book of Miracles. I have always hated mornings. Alarm clocks are harbingers of evil. I have always moved slowly and talked little. I'm not angry in the mornings, but I just have no need to interact with humankind for at least two hours after I awaken. Now, I half-enjoy waking up and cuddling with Shepard, changing his diaper, feeding him...and especially now...making him smile and coo. If the Lord had seen fit to have a cute little baby rise over the horizon instead of the bright, hot sun, more people would like mornings. (how's that for a fun mental picture?) I'm getting up an hour or more earlier every day now, and don't really mind it. Today I even had time to unload the dishwasher, clean off the kitchen table, and set out my cute new fall leaf placemats. People DO things in the morning besides run around getting ready? Apparently so. I'm now among them. The aforementioned statements do not disallow me from an occasional sleep-in should I be afforded the opportunity. And I'm still not a chatty Kathy...but I don't have to quell the feeling of meanness I once did.  :)
4. It's ok that babies are a big mystery. I was so concerned about not knowing anything about babies while I was pregnant. I read and read and was armed with lots of ideas about what to do. The reading was good, because there are things that are "knowable." I mean, you need to know how to feed him and when to be concerned about a fever, etc. But really, it's all a big mystery that needs to be solved...sometimes from minute-to-minute. There are clues and hints and witnesses to help you, and passages in books that jump off the page now that you're in the big middle of the mystery; but it's really all just some prayer and hope and trial-and-error to figure out what works for your baby at the moment. It takes time to build a rhythm and some confidence...or it did for me. There have certainly been moments when I've been completely at a loss, but that's when an awesome husband, friend, mom or somebody steps up and nudges you in just the right direction or at least gives you a license to make a good guess. Mysteries keep things exciting. Having a robot with a manual would be a lot less fun.
5. The plan is the friend. Planning ahead is the only way. I am kind of a planner, but I have taken it to a whole new level. There is a lot to consider with the simplest trip...diapers, wipes, extra outfit, bottle, pacifier...and that's just to get out the door! Going back to work has added a new layer, as many things I have to do at night. I'm not sure if we'll ever get to the new fall season on TV {not really a bad thing}. Just having everything in place and at hand when you need it reduces a ton of stress...and crying.
6. I am seeing all activities through a new lens of priority. Certainly for the time being, I am trying to funnel every decision about how I spend my time through these two questions..."is it good for my boys?" and "will it advance the Kingdom of God?" If the request fits into the yes for one of those questions, I will maybe consider it. Much, much further down the list now are questions like, "is it fun?" Fun will still happen, but I'm just not jumping at every chance to have it.

That's all for now. I'm proud that I strung so many sentences together, and I think they make sense. 

One month ago today

I had checked into the hospital for my first overnight hospital stay. I couldn't believe how calm I was. As I've mentioned before around here...labor and delivery was probably the thing in life that scared me the most.
I had a profound sense of duty on the delivery day though. Just a calm and peace. I knew that there was a job before me, and I set out to do my job. I didn't scream or yell or even cry (shocking!). I just breathed through the contractions, listened to the nurses and Jerod, monitored our progress...waited until 6 cm to get my epidural. That last hour before the epidural was pretty "special," but I lived. (Still don't know how women give birth without some numbing, but whatever...I don't get brownie points in heaven for having some help)
Even when the nurse said it was time to start pushing, I didn't freak out. I got a little nervous, but I knew my Mom and Jerod were there to pray and help as much as they could. They were both wonderful helpers. Since my eyes were pretty much closed the whole time, Jerod helped talk me through what I needed to do based on the nurse's reactions and instructions. I was pushing so well that she had to call in the doctor before she expected to.
And then, presto! Out came the baby in one big push. Once the nurse told me what to do and I realized it was within my power to get this show on the road as it were--I made sure we didn't prolong. I wanted to meet my little guy!

I couldn't believe my ears when I heard his little cry. Just perfect. We've had quite a first month, and there will be more on that later. I had a funny moment the other day when I realized I could now be the punch line of "Your Mama..." jokes.  Hee hee hee. I'm a MOM! Mama, Mother, Mum, Maaaaaaaaaaa! I have a new name. I have a new life. I have new purpose. It's not nearly as hard as I thought it would be. It's a joy. Even when I have to scrape myself off the bed after a deep nap. I barely mind it.

Just wanted to finally get a little post on my blog before too long. I still have thoughts and things to process and write about, so I'll be back. Meanwhile, I'm going to watch the little one sleep. And if I fall asleep myself, all the better.  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hurryupandwait!

Well, we were darn sure he'd come on Saturday. It's now Sunday evening...no baby. No contractions. No nothing except his stretching his legs in there. I keep assuring him verbally that if he will come on out he'll have much more room to stretch out here. Especially if his legs are anything like his dad's!
My mom and dad are here now...and we wait.
And wait.
We'll see what the doc says tomorrow. Scheduled to begin induction Tuesday evening at the hospital! Woo hooooo!

Look! Over there! To the right! 7 days folks.

You know, other than the fact that it's our 11th straight day of 90+ degree temperatures, I'm feeling fine. I don't yet have that "GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!!!!" intensity I've heard about. I am infinitely curious to MEET the baby, so in that sense, yes. Get this baby out of me 'cause I'm ready to pour out my love on him. 
I do have a "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" intensity about working right now. I'm just ready to take a breather and focus on this other whole set of responsibilities.
The brilliant news is that my doctor gave me a true "due" date yesterday. She basically said that if he's not here by early next week, we'll induce on Wednesday the 30th. I'm not a huge fan of being induced, but she feels it's best for baby and mama. So now I am grateful to have a definitive end in sight. I had nightmares about being a beached whale in the middle of July because I had made such a cozy home for the little guy in my belly.
I've told a few people...having a baby is a little weird in the sense that every other major event in your life, you plan a DATE and can count down and prepare. It's hard sitting on pins and needles as they say, with a bag half-packed and your family "on call." I mean, I could be leisurely waddling through Target and BOOM! Here he comes!
So...this time next week, we'll either have a baby or it will be baby-having-eve!

Gratitude. With commentary.

Our Sunday sermon ended with a charge to make a list of 30 things we're grateful for. OKAY!  :)
I'll do it in "public" then! I'm going to go ahead and say "salvation and Jesus" as givens...and here we go.

1. Family: all of 'em. Even the nuttiest of them are endearing. Jerod and I are both blessed to have great, supportive, and loving families.
2. Jerod: he's kind, real, smart, honest, tall, and awesome...long-suffering, patient, and interesting. And he likes me back.
3. Baby Shepard: I don't even know him yet, but he's been so sweet inside that he will surely be sweet outside. What a blessed and easy pregnancy it's been! Can't wait to meet this one.
4. Renovatus: my family in Charlotte. The place I feel at home. The place where my faith is grown and challenged and spurred.
5. My Pastors: dang. It's unreal how much I care for them.
6. My small group: there's nothing quite like a group that will cry with you and laugh with you, then pray with you...and sometimes do all three at once. With t-shirts.
7. Air-conditioning: no lie. I thank God for it about once a day in May - October.
8. My job: I rarely dread coming to work. I have great co-workers and work in a beautiful place that has felt like home since I was 18 years old. I make next to no money, but at least I like what I do. That says a lot.
9. My house: it's cozy, cool or warm depending on my needs, filled with love and fun antiques, fish and a dog...a great place to prop my feet up and feel at peace.
10. Godly heritage: when my faith falters, I can rest on the faith of my "fathers..." I know that God has sustained us, and that He always will.
11. Woods: I don't wander into them nearly enough; but whenever I do, I feel refreshed and serene. Especially if the woods are in the mountains and smell slightly of damp moss and ferns.
12. Creativity: I realize that any creativity I have is a gift from God. I don't take it for granted. I love the feeling of crafting something new or interesting or finding a new use for an existing thing...or stringing words together that work just so.
13. A good "ear": I love being able to sing along with the radio without hurting small dogs in my vicinity. It's a joy to sing. I can always find a way to poke holes in my talents and wish they were somehow better or more like "so-and-so's," but I am grateful that I enjoy opening up the pipes in the shower. 
14. The imac computer: If it were a person, I would hug it. Every day. It's the greatest computer on the planet.
15. E-mail: Odd, you think? Makes my life much easier...especially at work. I'd always rather write than talk, I guess. Good for documenting as well. I like e-mail.
16. Living between mountains and beaches: I love that if I need to/want to, I can be at a mountain or a beach within 3-4 hours. Need to make this happen more often, but thankful for a good geographical location in the world.
17. Being debt-free: Not everyone can be in this boat, and we've worked hard with God's help to make it happen. But having no credit card debt or extraneous debt is a blessing, indeed.
18. Education: So thankful to have been given opportunities to further myself and be challenged.
19. Birkenstock and Dansko shoe companies: given my foot condition (Fred-Flintstone-Flat), I am always thankful to have shoes that don't hurt my feet and are kinda stylish.
20. Travel: France, England, Africa...their people and beauty are etched in my heart and mind. And for all the places I've yet to visit, but can dream about...Italy, Greece, Germany, Japan, New Zealand. I can hope.
21. Mexican food: Cheese dip. Nachos. Fresh Salsa...yummo!
22. Books and Reading: For escape and information, I am thankful for the worlds I discover through literature and even the less-than literature
23. Mornings with no agendas: You know those days when you wake up and don't have a pressing "to do" list? Yeah, I barely know them...but I make sure I have one every now and again. A little coffee and space to think and be. You know, the ones when you can wear pyjamas for lunch?
24. Climate variations: I know, weird. But I love that I live in a place where I get all four seasons. About the time I'm getting done to death with one season, things change. Leaves fall or things sprout. I am not wandering around a desert or sweating year-round or sporting parkas every day. This makes me happy.
25. The Bible. The character of God revealed in the stories of real, fallible folk. God using broken instruments to make beautiful music and give us wisdom beyond our understanding.
26. Ice cream: glorious. in just about every flavor. any time.
27. Sunday afternoon naps. Weekly.
28. Missionaries and workers for justice: Thankful for all who risk lives and give up comfort to share the love and mercy of Jesus here and abroad
29. Clean/running water & modern restrooms: seems simple enough. But not everyone has access to such things. 
30. Cell phones: I mean, you don't have to answer it just because it rings...but it's nice to keep in touch with folks and to get a quick answer to "are we out of milk? 'Cause I'm at the store..."

15 days 'til due date!

Oh my. It really could happen anytime now. We spent the weekend trying to get the house picked up in case of emergency dash-to-the-hospital. Everyone says don't worry about the house...but please! I can't bring baby home to a wreck! And we still have to have clean clothes, towels, and sheets...you know!?


Jerod was so sweet to tackle the nursery closet as I supervised from the glider. We got most everything out of there and appropriated. Enough to get all the big baby stuff inside the closet as well as his hanging clothes. I can't imagine that his hanging clothes will ever be as long as his dad's! Just one last box of stuff I need to find spots for in the office/guest room.

If I had one wish from a genie in a bottle right now it would be that MY closet would get magically sorted, organized, and rebuilt. Just not gonna happen before due date...such is life.

The sweet husband also installed a ceiling fan in the nursery which was on my "to do" list. He agreed that we needed one after we spent time in there sorting the closet. It was a little stuffy!

We're ready. I mean. We have stuff. Lots of stuff. Diapers, creams, toys, onesies, wipes, bags, breastfeeding stuff, books, fans, lullabies, bottles, pacifiers, humidifier, socks, mittens, hats, furniture...man! Do we have STUFF!?! I still get the cold sweats when I think about delivery, but I just keep asking God to get me through it.

Feels like we're flying in airplane strapped to a skydiver and are about to be pushed out into the vast open skies. We don't know exactly when or exactly what to do...but we have an expert "attached" to us! And lots of family and friends ready to help us land. Thanks everyone for your excitement and prayers!