Putting my kids to bed last night involved a LOT of whining. I put a great deal of deliberate effort into training my kids to not whine. We have innumerable conversations about talking like a big boy/girl instead of a baby. Sometimes physical discipline is involved or privileges are revoked. I don't believe it is a "phase," because we all know too many adults who still whine when things don't go their way.
I'm no exception to this. I have been working for many months to try guarding my tongue against complaining. I know too well how prone I am to just let everyone know how I feel about things like winter and paying bills and my husband's untidiness. The bittersweet angle is that there is such a steep pile of blessings behind every one of those complaints. And since it's poor planning to try convincing someone to do something you're not modeling, I've been trying to implement it in my own life.
But my oldest is 6 years old now. Six!! It is beyond inappropriate for her to throw herself on the ground in a fit of disagreement and take the tone of "whine" with me-- or with anyone for that matter. It strikes a chord of anger in me. I wanna just kick her out the door on her butt. The worst part is that she's a teacher to her younger siblings. So you can understand my acute sense of urgency to get this thing beat!
But time and time and time again, I find us in wrestling in this whirlwind of repeated, failed messages.
After the kids were finally wrangled and snuggled into bed, I collapsed dramatically onto the couch and lamented to my husband, "We're never going to win. I feel like all I ever do is fight the same battles, and our kids aren't getting any better. All I do is fail." Caught off guard, his consoling reply was, "I bet that feels bad."
This, dear friends, is why I value my relationship with God :)
I was talking to Him about it this afternoon-- just putting it all at His feet. This is something I do often. I cry to my Daddy, ask for help, and let Him pick me back up. Today went just a little differently. Today I heard this:
"If you're already doing the best you can do, I can ask nothing more than for you to bring them to Me. Work to do your best."
What release! It's not my job to CHANGE my kids. The Bible says nothing about "changing" children. It talks a lot about directing, guiding, disciplining, and setting examples for them to follow. I had never thought of that until today.
I heard once that instead of praying for our kids to be godly, we should pray that WE would be godly. I try to do that. But it's hard not to demand that God "fix" my kids. Now.
Anyway, this was something that touched my heart today. And I think it could benefit other moms. You really can't do more than your best. God's gotta take it from there. And you've got to be the one to give it to Him :)
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
My Other "Third"
Good morning Love,
I was lying down yesterday afternoon, listening to Aspen play & chat with her Hello Kitty figures, and foolishly hoping for a nap. I thought about what I was doing 10 years ago yesterday. And I have no clue :) I know our rehearsal was in the evening, and that we hung out with friends and had an amazing time together. But before that? Nothin'.
I thought about how 10 years ago today, your lousy brothers came in and interrupted my bridal beauty sleep at 7 am with a boisterous, "If we have to be awake, then so do you."
I also thought about how we've watched those same brothers grow from dorky teenagers into responsible fathers and exceptional husbands to their Julias :) And your angry, clench-fisted rebel of a sister is well. . . still kind of a rebel :) But she's not a kid anymore. She's a woman. And my friend.
The morning of our wedding we spent dodging each other. And I am sad for every other couple in the world who doesn't experience the thrill of trying not to see the other person's face in a small town. It kept me jittery and excited for every last-minute errand that needed to be run. At one point, Cristen was even shoving my head down in the car because we thought we saw your car coming at us down the same street. It was such clean, unbridled fun.
Anyway, we did finally get married in the afternoon, but everyone scattered from the reception because the mosquitos threatened to devour every last guest. Then we went to Chicago, which I remember pretty much nothing about-- except being WAY underdressed for the hotel (lol), overpaying the valet drivers, and being disappointed with the Museum of Science & Industry.
We spent our first year working third shift, occasionally surprising each other with homemade breakfasts. Or, better yet, splurging on Maxine's. Mmmm. . . Maxine's :) I loved the morning I staggered out to see my car decorated with a balloon and a Nutrageous bar and a map with directions to my various birthday presents hidden all over town :) Third shift was pretty lame, but I really do have a lot of good memories from that time. I'm sure it had NOTHING to do with being newlyweds or finally being together every day after 3-1/2 years of dating long distance. Nah.
Through the years, we've lived in 4 different places, botched countless home repair "projects," started 3 different businesses (watched 2 of them tank), visited Puerto Rico, burned through every episode of The Office, Arrested Development (twice), Burn Notice, and Prison Break. We went to the THEATER to watch "Finding Nemo." We didn't have kids back then, and we didn't have to take out a small loan to hit up the theater either. There was no Redbox or Netflix. Just Premiere Video. Oh, the money we dumped into Premiere Video :)
We have introduced the world to 3 new spectacular people, and they're all cute. Together, we'll figure out how to help them grow up without too much scarring, Lord willing. Boy do we need help from Him :)
You've come from being a "cute boy" to a man I respect as a father, a husband, and as a leader in general. Sometimes, you drive me up a wall, of course. I don't think anyone could say otherwise about you :) (I'm not perfect either, I know. I know.) But you are amazing. Brilliant. The things you come up with sometimes. . . "simply stunning." ;)
Anyway, 10 years seems like a lot, but with the realization that Aspen is already 6. . . this is actually going too quickly. Our 50th will be here in no time. Hopefully our only vehicle won't blow up at the hand of an incompetent mechanic that year, and we'll be able to hit up Puerto Rico again. Hey, maybe they'll even let me jet ski this time.
Here's to a great partnership-- one that no one believed would make it :)
You, me, & God: Unequal "thirds."
Love you,
Wife
P.S. I can't remember exactly when this shot was taken. But I would guess that I was 16? So probably the summer of 1999. We're both wearing bracelets from each other. *rolls eyes at cute, young love* :)
I was lying down yesterday afternoon, listening to Aspen play & chat with her Hello Kitty figures, and foolishly hoping for a nap. I thought about what I was doing 10 years ago yesterday. And I have no clue :) I know our rehearsal was in the evening, and that we hung out with friends and had an amazing time together. But before that? Nothin'.
I thought about how 10 years ago today, your lousy brothers came in and interrupted my bridal beauty sleep at 7 am with a boisterous, "If we have to be awake, then so do you."
I also thought about how we've watched those same brothers grow from dorky teenagers into responsible fathers and exceptional husbands to their Julias :) And your angry, clench-fisted rebel of a sister is well. . . still kind of a rebel :) But she's not a kid anymore. She's a woman. And my friend.
The morning of our wedding we spent dodging each other. And I am sad for every other couple in the world who doesn't experience the thrill of trying not to see the other person's face in a small town. It kept me jittery and excited for every last-minute errand that needed to be run. At one point, Cristen was even shoving my head down in the car because we thought we saw your car coming at us down the same street. It was such clean, unbridled fun.
Anyway, we did finally get married in the afternoon, but everyone scattered from the reception because the mosquitos threatened to devour every last guest. Then we went to Chicago, which I remember pretty much nothing about-- except being WAY underdressed for the hotel (lol), overpaying the valet drivers, and being disappointed with the Museum of Science & Industry.
We spent our first year working third shift, occasionally surprising each other with homemade breakfasts. Or, better yet, splurging on Maxine's. Mmmm. . . Maxine's :) I loved the morning I staggered out to see my car decorated with a balloon and a Nutrageous bar and a map with directions to my various birthday presents hidden all over town :) Third shift was pretty lame, but I really do have a lot of good memories from that time. I'm sure it had NOTHING to do with being newlyweds or finally being together every day after 3-1/2 years of dating long distance. Nah.
Through the years, we've lived in 4 different places, botched countless home repair "projects," started 3 different businesses (watched 2 of them tank), visited Puerto Rico, burned through every episode of The Office, Arrested Development (twice), Burn Notice, and Prison Break. We went to the THEATER to watch "Finding Nemo." We didn't have kids back then, and we didn't have to take out a small loan to hit up the theater either. There was no Redbox or Netflix. Just Premiere Video. Oh, the money we dumped into Premiere Video :)
We have introduced the world to 3 new spectacular people, and they're all cute. Together, we'll figure out how to help them grow up without too much scarring, Lord willing. Boy do we need help from Him :)
You've come from being a "cute boy" to a man I respect as a father, a husband, and as a leader in general. Sometimes, you drive me up a wall, of course. I don't think anyone could say otherwise about you :) (I'm not perfect either, I know. I know.) But you are amazing. Brilliant. The things you come up with sometimes. . . "simply stunning." ;)
Anyway, 10 years seems like a lot, but with the realization that Aspen is already 6. . . this is actually going too quickly. Our 50th will be here in no time. Hopefully our only vehicle won't blow up at the hand of an incompetent mechanic that year, and we'll be able to hit up Puerto Rico again. Hey, maybe they'll even let me jet ski this time.
Here's to a great partnership-- one that no one believed would make it :)
You, me, & God: Unequal "thirds."
Love you,
Wife
P.S. I can't remember exactly when this shot was taken. But I would guess that I was 16? So probably the summer of 1999. We're both wearing bracelets from each other. *rolls eyes at cute, young love* :)
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Little Gestures
Aspen, my 5-year-old has her own camera. It's our old camera that malfunctions only when you're singing over the baby's first birthday cake, or the bride is being kissed for her first time as a wife, or when you're driving past an AWESOME item to post on "fail blog."
Anyway, she left yesterday with Rodney and Jeremiah and a whole slew of teenagers to hit up Sonshine Festival over in MN. Her entire year is spent looking forward to "camping." And this year, she would have. . . a camera. *insert angelic singing voices* We plugged in the charger so it could be all ready, but the group ended up leaving in a whirlwind. The camera was left behind. I called Rodney right away to deliver the news, but Aspen was too excited to get on the road and didn't want it.
The pictures she takes could never be labeled as "good." But they're from her perspective (looking up at people, lots of items on the ground, etc), and because of that, I like to occasionally peek at what she's shot. When I picked up the camera yesterday, I was surprised to find not new pictures, but a new video.
Once I saw what the video was of, I vaguely remembered actually having had helped her set the camera up to film it. And I should remember. Because it was a video of me.
I was talking on the phone, pacing around, picking up toys, passing my time efficiently.
The phone call was an important one. A friend of mine is going through a really rough spot in her life. I've spent a good deal of time seeking counsel from people on how to walk with her through it. And I was in the process of doing just that-- listening, sharing insight, just trying to be supportive. My other kids were napping, so it was only Aspen and me. I was aware that she was in the room, but she seemed content playing with her camera. I felt relief that I was able to just talk to my friend freely, without interruption.
Isn't interruption the bane of our existence? It brings out the selfish side of all of us. The other night, Rodney and I were engaged in tense conversation over dinner. Our 3-year-old kept trying to ask us a question, but we kept shutting him down. Eventually one of us snapped at him. We took the pause in conversation to just let him get out what we assumed would be a dumb fact about Spiderman or whatever else was swirling around in his little blond head. Instead, we heard, "Daddy, I need a fork." Oh boy.
That is a humorous (and humbling) example. But I really need to work on being less irritated by interruptions to my all-important conversations or whatever. Anyway, I'm off track.
Aspen had the camera on for nearly 6 minutes. And about 90% of that time, she had me in the lens. I was so focused on helping my friend that I completely ignored her. Not one time in the video did I look at Aspen. Not a smile, not one single acknowledgement of her existence.
It broke my heart to realize she was watching me put her in second place. Yes the call was important. Yes I needed to focus. But how many minutes were we out there together that I didn't even look at one of the most precious, impressionable people in my entire life?
At least 6.
It resonated like an analogy for life. "Important" things come and go. I only have my babies for a few fast-escaping years. As ashamed as I felt watching that video, in a way, I hope I never recoup. That I always recognize the need to connect. That I don't forget, as I so often do, that I'm being watched. And mimicked.
Anyway, she left yesterday with Rodney and Jeremiah and a whole slew of teenagers to hit up Sonshine Festival over in MN. Her entire year is spent looking forward to "camping." And this year, she would have. . . a camera. *insert angelic singing voices* We plugged in the charger so it could be all ready, but the group ended up leaving in a whirlwind. The camera was left behind. I called Rodney right away to deliver the news, but Aspen was too excited to get on the road and didn't want it.
The pictures she takes could never be labeled as "good." But they're from her perspective (looking up at people, lots of items on the ground, etc), and because of that, I like to occasionally peek at what she's shot. When I picked up the camera yesterday, I was surprised to find not new pictures, but a new video.
Once I saw what the video was of, I vaguely remembered actually having had helped her set the camera up to film it. And I should remember. Because it was a video of me.
I was talking on the phone, pacing around, picking up toys, passing my time efficiently.
The phone call was an important one. A friend of mine is going through a really rough spot in her life. I've spent a good deal of time seeking counsel from people on how to walk with her through it. And I was in the process of doing just that-- listening, sharing insight, just trying to be supportive. My other kids were napping, so it was only Aspen and me. I was aware that she was in the room, but she seemed content playing with her camera. I felt relief that I was able to just talk to my friend freely, without interruption.
Isn't interruption the bane of our existence? It brings out the selfish side of all of us. The other night, Rodney and I were engaged in tense conversation over dinner. Our 3-year-old kept trying to ask us a question, but we kept shutting him down. Eventually one of us snapped at him. We took the pause in conversation to just let him get out what we assumed would be a dumb fact about Spiderman or whatever else was swirling around in his little blond head. Instead, we heard, "Daddy, I need a fork." Oh boy.
That is a humorous (and humbling) example. But I really need to work on being less irritated by interruptions to my all-important conversations or whatever. Anyway, I'm off track.
Aspen had the camera on for nearly 6 minutes. And about 90% of that time, she had me in the lens. I was so focused on helping my friend that I completely ignored her. Not one time in the video did I look at Aspen. Not a smile, not one single acknowledgement of her existence.
It broke my heart to realize she was watching me put her in second place. Yes the call was important. Yes I needed to focus. But how many minutes were we out there together that I didn't even look at one of the most precious, impressionable people in my entire life?
At least 6.
It resonated like an analogy for life. "Important" things come and go. I only have my babies for a few fast-escaping years. As ashamed as I felt watching that video, in a way, I hope I never recoup. That I always recognize the need to connect. That I don't forget, as I so often do, that I'm being watched. And mimicked.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Garden Friends
There's a respected pastor who came to speak at our church a while back. I don't remember what the sermon was actually about. BUT I do remember him talking about Jesus in His last moments before the grueling, torturous crucifixion process. He was with His closest friends. Not at the last supper, but in the Garden of Gethsemane. The place where He laid down His will and sweat droplets of blood. He took his three closest friends. Of course, they all fell asleep on Him, but that's a different blog for a different day.
The pastor went on to say that it's healthy to have at least one "garden friend." A person we can go to our darkest place with. We can crack open our ribs, bear our heart, and have confidence that they will lift us closer to the arms of Christ. He said that if we don't have a garden friend to lay in the trenches with, we should pray for God to gift us with one.
Gratitude washed over me. I have not one, but three of these valued treasures.
Sara, I have known for the shortest amount of time, and she is my polar opposite. She's girly and chatty and classy and always well-manicured. Our relationship is primarily "text" based, which is wholly new to me. But she is always working on something HUGE to become more Christ-like. She challenges me to focus more on changing myself. We share similar struggles. She's a talker, and I'm a listener; it's a good thing we've got going.
Lisa B and I have been friends for about 9 years now-- most of that being long distance. She's not as far as Sara, who is about 11 hours away. So we're more able to meet half-way, get our kids together for things, and just reconnect. We are opposites in a separate direction than Sara and I are (Yes, I believe "opposites" can include more than 2 directions). Lisa is an outdoorsy, garden-savvy, get-r-dun, solution-oriented, no-nonsense kind of gal. She is ALWAYS looking for (and hoping to give) solid, practical advise. She never calls "just to vent." Okay, there was one "sugar cookie" episode, but I'm willing to let that slide-- mainly because she recognized it for its pettiness.
Lisa G is my spiritual mother. I never fully understood what that could mean for a person. She's a step ahead of me in parenting-- with her kids moving out, getting married etc. She has been through the struggles I'm going through. When I'm drowning in housework and screaming kids and Rodney's latest thing that's going to drive me off a bridge, she extends her calm hand of clarity. That woman has got to spend more time on her knees with my issues than she does interceding for anyone else. It's in no way uncommon for her to offer scripture to help reset my compass. As I grow and learn about Christ, she finds opportunity to take a seat beside me and learn something for herself through my journey.
Growing up, all my friends were guys. They made me feel comfortable & accepted. When I got married, I started learning that I cannot have guys for friends. It was a bit of a crisis in my teenage head. Who likes girls? They're petty and dramatic and nit-picky and gossipy and superficial. But some women really are amazing. And I am SO blessed to have these particular 3 in my life right now. They all love God, and they all help keep me stabilized and healthy so I can see Him working in my own life.
The pastor went on to say that it's healthy to have at least one "garden friend." A person we can go to our darkest place with. We can crack open our ribs, bear our heart, and have confidence that they will lift us closer to the arms of Christ. He said that if we don't have a garden friend to lay in the trenches with, we should pray for God to gift us with one.
Gratitude washed over me. I have not one, but three of these valued treasures.
Sara, I have known for the shortest amount of time, and she is my polar opposite. She's girly and chatty and classy and always well-manicured. Our relationship is primarily "text" based, which is wholly new to me. But she is always working on something HUGE to become more Christ-like. She challenges me to focus more on changing myself. We share similar struggles. She's a talker, and I'm a listener; it's a good thing we've got going.
Lisa B and I have been friends for about 9 years now-- most of that being long distance. She's not as far as Sara, who is about 11 hours away. So we're more able to meet half-way, get our kids together for things, and just reconnect. We are opposites in a separate direction than Sara and I are (Yes, I believe "opposites" can include more than 2 directions). Lisa is an outdoorsy, garden-savvy, get-r-dun, solution-oriented, no-nonsense kind of gal. She is ALWAYS looking for (and hoping to give) solid, practical advise. She never calls "just to vent." Okay, there was one "sugar cookie" episode, but I'm willing to let that slide-- mainly because she recognized it for its pettiness.
Lisa G is my spiritual mother. I never fully understood what that could mean for a person. She's a step ahead of me in parenting-- with her kids moving out, getting married etc. She has been through the struggles I'm going through. When I'm drowning in housework and screaming kids and Rodney's latest thing that's going to drive me off a bridge, she extends her calm hand of clarity. That woman has got to spend more time on her knees with my issues than she does interceding for anyone else. It's in no way uncommon for her to offer scripture to help reset my compass. As I grow and learn about Christ, she finds opportunity to take a seat beside me and learn something for herself through my journey.
Growing up, all my friends were guys. They made me feel comfortable & accepted. When I got married, I started learning that I cannot have guys for friends. It was a bit of a crisis in my teenage head. Who likes girls? They're petty and dramatic and nit-picky and gossipy and superficial. But some women really are amazing. And I am SO blessed to have these particular 3 in my life right now. They all love God, and they all help keep me stabilized and healthy so I can see Him working in my own life.
Monday, June 4, 2012
I keep a journal for each of my kids. I generally write in them every month or two or when they do something exceptionally noteworthy or cute :) Below, I've copied verbatim the most recent entry in my 3-year-old son's journal. Looking at it a second time, there are things I would change/improve. It's certainly not worth any literary accolade, but this is it.
Honestly, I'm not completely sure why I'm posting this for everyone in the cyber world to see. My sense is that it will resonate with moms at all stages of motherhood-- whether your kids are infants or if they've promoted you to a great grandmother.
Logically, I know my kids will grow up, but my heart can't see it. I feel like they'll always be this small. Even though "this small" is redefined every moment. The changes are so slight that I fail to notice them in my hurried life. Then when I look back, I can no more imagine them as a baby as I can a 20-year-old. That time is gone. Just gone.
Saturday, June 02, 2012
My sweet, sweet, tiny man, It's 11:00 at night. I have to get up at 5:30am tomorrow. But I am so full of emotion right now that I just have to write to you.
Uncle AJ & Aunt Julia are out of town this weekend celebrating their 6th wedding anniversary. Last night and tonight, we let Aspen, Lucy, Ori, & you all sleep out in the playroom together. Last night was a bit disastrous, but tonight was much better.
Anyway, I was all ready for bed, and I decided to peek in on you all before heading downstairs. (By the way I peek in on you & Aspen several nights a week. There's just something un-communicate-able about watching my babies sleep) I looked at Ori & then Aspen & then Lucy. When I got to you, something drew me in.
So I knelt beside you, laid my hand on your chest & prayed. For your integrity, joy, strength, peace, a heart for God, protection, love, on & on I went. I told Him that I can't imagine that He loves you more than I do.
Then I thought about how He sees all of you when He looks at you. Your whole life. Your future. I thought about you being big. About how you won't let me sleep with you when you're 35. You won't pester me incessantly for minuscule things. You won't snuggle with me to watch Iron Man or beg me to play Sonic the Hedgehog every waking moment.
I can't even see to write this, my tears are just coming & coming.
You're so small & precious & innocent & sweet & wonderful. And as badly as I want you to grow up, brush your own teeth, night-time potty train, get you own shoes on, and all those petty things, . . . Well I don't want this tiny boy, who I can scoop up in my arms, to vanish. You'll never be this small again. Tomorrow, you'll be 12. And then 27.
I thought about how you're mine right now. You obey what I tell you. You work hard to make sure I'm pleased with your behavior-- even pointing out when you do things just as I requested/instructed. And as you get older, you will slowly stop identifying yourself with me. You'll start doing your own stuff & being your own person. Asserting your individuality.
And I prayed for guidance through that process. That He would hold my heart as you intentionally walk out of it. That He would grant me wisdom as we continually draw and re-draw the outward-growing lines of your freedom. So I would know when to step in & when to back off.
*sigh*
For tonight, this moment, you're still my sweet, precious boy. Moonlight on your face. And my chap stick kiss-mark on your sleeping forehead. I do love you, buddy. <3
Honestly, I'm not completely sure why I'm posting this for everyone in the cyber world to see. My sense is that it will resonate with moms at all stages of motherhood-- whether your kids are infants or if they've promoted you to a great grandmother.
Logically, I know my kids will grow up, but my heart can't see it. I feel like they'll always be this small. Even though "this small" is redefined every moment. The changes are so slight that I fail to notice them in my hurried life. Then when I look back, I can no more imagine them as a baby as I can a 20-year-old. That time is gone. Just gone.
Saturday, June 02, 2012
My sweet, sweet, tiny man, It's 11:00 at night. I have to get up at 5:30am tomorrow. But I am so full of emotion right now that I just have to write to you.
Uncle AJ & Aunt Julia are out of town this weekend celebrating their 6th wedding anniversary. Last night and tonight, we let Aspen, Lucy, Ori, & you all sleep out in the playroom together. Last night was a bit disastrous, but tonight was much better.
Anyway, I was all ready for bed, and I decided to peek in on you all before heading downstairs. (By the way I peek in on you & Aspen several nights a week. There's just something un-communicate-able about watching my babies sleep) I looked at Ori & then Aspen & then Lucy. When I got to you, something drew me in.
So I knelt beside you, laid my hand on your chest & prayed. For your integrity, joy, strength, peace, a heart for God, protection, love, on & on I went. I told Him that I can't imagine that He loves you more than I do.
Then I thought about how He sees all of you when He looks at you. Your whole life. Your future. I thought about you being big. About how you won't let me sleep with you when you're 35. You won't pester me incessantly for minuscule things. You won't snuggle with me to watch Iron Man or beg me to play Sonic the Hedgehog every waking moment.
I can't even see to write this, my tears are just coming & coming.
You're so small & precious & innocent & sweet & wonderful. And as badly as I want you to grow up, brush your own teeth, night-time potty train, get you own shoes on, and all those petty things, . . . Well I don't want this tiny boy, who I can scoop up in my arms, to vanish. You'll never be this small again. Tomorrow, you'll be 12. And then 27.
I thought about how you're mine right now. You obey what I tell you. You work hard to make sure I'm pleased with your behavior-- even pointing out when you do things just as I requested/instructed. And as you get older, you will slowly stop identifying yourself with me. You'll start doing your own stuff & being your own person. Asserting your individuality.
And I prayed for guidance through that process. That He would hold my heart as you intentionally walk out of it. That He would grant me wisdom as we continually draw and re-draw the outward-growing lines of your freedom. So I would know when to step in & when to back off.
*sigh*
For tonight, this moment, you're still my sweet, precious boy. Moonlight on your face. And my chap stick kiss-mark on your sleeping forehead. I do love you, buddy. <3
Monday, April 9, 2012
"What if His blessings come through raindrops?"
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28
And
"'Test me in this,' says the LORD Almighty, 'and see if I will not throw open the floodgates.'" Malachi 3:10
^^That last one, paired with the first one makes a joke :) Maybe you won't get it until the end. Whatever. Read on.
We have had an eventful month.
In early March, Rodney underwent a vasectomy. We don't have insurance on him. But thanks to Dave Ramsey, we had the money saved up, granting us the ability to pay with cold hard cash. And so a cool, well-spent $1,500 strutted out the door. A week and a half later, he encountered severe side pain that sent him limping to our local Urgent Care. They proceeded with a standard CT scan, blood test, and urine analysis. The negative results left the confounded doctor with nothing but the option of diagnosing the pain as a "complication" of the vasectomy and sending him home with pain killers and orders to rest for a day.
Last week jump-started with our reception of the medical statement. Rodney's clean bill of health came to a stunning total of $2,100. It was shocking, but we began to devise ways to pull money together to get it paid.
A few days later we left for Eau Claire. We were to attend a funeral for a 16-year-old. Oh my heart :( Anyway, our Jeep blew its engine on the trip up. Thankfully, my brother-in-law is a phenomenal mechanic and is working toward finding and rebuilding a new engine to replace that bad boy. We don't know yet what the cost will be of that job. I'm going to go ahead and estimate $2,000 for that.
Also thanks to Dave Ramsey, we use cash for everything. So at the beginning of the month, we take out cash for well, everything: groceries, toiletries, fuel, birthdays, weddings, softener salt, diapers, etc. We withdraw the lump sum and then distribute it into our various "envelopes." It's an AMAZING system (that's another blog post for another day), and I recommend it to everyone to help avoid overspending.
However.
That means there's a large sum of money in one place until you're home from the bank. And if someone or other (maybe the husband? We'll just say "maybe") forgets to bring it in, it stays in the car. Where it can be taken. $800 gone.
My wonderful, aforementioned brother-in-law loaned us one of his Jeeps (yeah, we're a Jeepy kind of crew) while he worked on ours. During our use of it, we managed to break the driver's seat from its base.
Saturday, I spent 5 hours in Urgent Care with my one-year-old baby girl. She was the lucky winner of 2 chest x-rays, 2 throat x-rays, a nebulizer treatment, three different oxygen-level tests, a swab for strep throat, a swab for whooping cough, some kind of super-duper anti-inflammatory shot to open her airways, a dose of Tylenol, some saltine crackers, and apple juice (that last part wasn't so bad). She's okay now, for the record, praise God! Thanks again everyone for praying for our little Ez.
Yesterday, our garage door opener broke. Maybe $200?
Today, my daughter opened a birthday card from her generous aunt & uncle with $20 cash in it. That too has vanished. The cash-- not the card :)
$1500 Surgery
$2100 "Complication"
$2000 Engine
$ 800 Cash
$ 200 Garage Door Thinger
$ 20 Poor victim of unlucky parents
______________________________
$6,620 + broken Jeep chair and potential cost of Urgent Care visit (She's insured. Yay God!) accrued in ONE month.
A lot of people have asked me how I'm holding up. I have actually been doing fine-- as if nothing is even happening. Which very closely resembles textbook denial. Hmmm. . . :) But instead of labeling my peace with a psychological term, I'm choosing to trust that God is answering the prayers of my friends and family to sustain me.
Today, I was talking these circumstances over with someone close. It occurred to me that though these are difficult things, they have proved to shine light on God's goodness. It reminds me of lyrics in this song. Here are a few things that have surfaced and cannot be overlooked:
- We don't have grocery money for the next week and a half, but we have family who volunteered to feed us for a few of the nights. I also discovered enough food in our cupboards to make up for the rest of the meals we can't go out and buy.
- I have a brother-in-law skilled enough (and willing!) to completely fix our vehicle.
- I have family generous enough to pinch their schedule and loan us their second vehicle.
- I have family close by and willing to take my oldest kids in the event we would need to stay in the hospital a few days with the baby.
- We have friends who are constantly asking (nearly begging) to help out in SOME way.
- We have a church family and incredible friends who readily united in prayer over our little sick girl.
- When our Jeep died, no one was hurt. It wasn't raining (or snowing!), and we had just finished a stop at McDonald's-- filling our tummies and emptying our bladders.
- Thanks to Dave Ramsey (I should really get paid for all this advertising), we have a $1000 emergency fund, and money saved up for all kinds of other upcoming things. And while we don't WANT to liquidate the dough we've saved for our trip to Puerto Rico (for instance), the simple undeniable fact is that we do have that money. The content of those envelopes is certainly not enough to cover everything, but we haven't lived "paycheck to paycheck" for years. If our paychecks were the ONLY money we had to scrape together. . . Ooo-whee we'd be in a a heap of trouble.
- Rodney and I completely agree about God :) We know that He is trustworthy, and that He will provide. There's no arguing about plans or about money, even.
- This trouble has presented the opportunity to come together and pray as a whole family, sans baby.
- Lastly is something I try to never take for granted. But when you're going to a funeral for a child, you cannot overlook the absolute blessing of having all of your own kids alive. It makes everything else-- the whole gamut-- completely, utterly, and wholly unimportant.
This is for sure the roughest patch we've been through since we started our own company over 4 years ago. Instead of getting us down and burying us in defeat and worry, it has instead served to demonstrate just how richly we are blessed.
And
"'Test me in this,' says the LORD Almighty, 'and see if I will not throw open the floodgates.'" Malachi 3:10
^^That last one, paired with the first one makes a joke :) Maybe you won't get it until the end. Whatever. Read on.
We have had an eventful month.
In early March, Rodney underwent a vasectomy. We don't have insurance on him. But thanks to Dave Ramsey, we had the money saved up, granting us the ability to pay with cold hard cash. And so a cool, well-spent $1,500 strutted out the door. A week and a half later, he encountered severe side pain that sent him limping to our local Urgent Care. They proceeded with a standard CT scan, blood test, and urine analysis. The negative results left the confounded doctor with nothing but the option of diagnosing the pain as a "complication" of the vasectomy and sending him home with pain killers and orders to rest for a day.
Last week jump-started with our reception of the medical statement. Rodney's clean bill of health came to a stunning total of $2,100. It was shocking, but we began to devise ways to pull money together to get it paid.
A few days later we left for Eau Claire. We were to attend a funeral for a 16-year-old. Oh my heart :( Anyway, our Jeep blew its engine on the trip up. Thankfully, my brother-in-law is a phenomenal mechanic and is working toward finding and rebuilding a new engine to replace that bad boy. We don't know yet what the cost will be of that job. I'm going to go ahead and estimate $2,000 for that.
Also thanks to Dave Ramsey, we use cash for everything. So at the beginning of the month, we take out cash for well, everything: groceries, toiletries, fuel, birthdays, weddings, softener salt, diapers, etc. We withdraw the lump sum and then distribute it into our various "envelopes." It's an AMAZING system (that's another blog post for another day), and I recommend it to everyone to help avoid overspending.
However.
That means there's a large sum of money in one place until you're home from the bank. And if someone or other (maybe the husband? We'll just say "maybe") forgets to bring it in, it stays in the car. Where it can be taken. $800 gone.
My wonderful, aforementioned brother-in-law loaned us one of his Jeeps (yeah, we're a Jeepy kind of crew) while he worked on ours. During our use of it, we managed to break the driver's seat from its base.
Saturday, I spent 5 hours in Urgent Care with my one-year-old baby girl. She was the lucky winner of 2 chest x-rays, 2 throat x-rays, a nebulizer treatment, three different oxygen-level tests, a swab for strep throat, a swab for whooping cough, some kind of super-duper anti-inflammatory shot to open her airways, a dose of Tylenol, some saltine crackers, and apple juice (that last part wasn't so bad). She's okay now, for the record, praise God! Thanks again everyone for praying for our little Ez.
Yesterday, our garage door opener broke. Maybe $200?
Today, my daughter opened a birthday card from her generous aunt & uncle with $20 cash in it. That too has vanished. The cash-- not the card :)
$1500 Surgery
$2100 "Complication"
$2000 Engine
$ 800 Cash
$ 200 Garage Door Thinger
$ 20 Poor victim of unlucky parents
______________________________
$6,620 + broken Jeep chair and potential cost of Urgent Care visit (She's insured. Yay God!) accrued in ONE month.
A lot of people have asked me how I'm holding up. I have actually been doing fine-- as if nothing is even happening. Which very closely resembles textbook denial. Hmmm. . . :) But instead of labeling my peace with a psychological term, I'm choosing to trust that God is answering the prayers of my friends and family to sustain me.
Today, I was talking these circumstances over with someone close. It occurred to me that though these are difficult things, they have proved to shine light on God's goodness. It reminds me of lyrics in this song. Here are a few things that have surfaced and cannot be overlooked:
- We don't have grocery money for the next week and a half, but we have family who volunteered to feed us for a few of the nights. I also discovered enough food in our cupboards to make up for the rest of the meals we can't go out and buy.
- I have a brother-in-law skilled enough (and willing!) to completely fix our vehicle.
- I have family generous enough to pinch their schedule and loan us their second vehicle.
- I have family close by and willing to take my oldest kids in the event we would need to stay in the hospital a few days with the baby.
- We have friends who are constantly asking (nearly begging) to help out in SOME way.
- We have a church family and incredible friends who readily united in prayer over our little sick girl.
- When our Jeep died, no one was hurt. It wasn't raining (or snowing!), and we had just finished a stop at McDonald's-- filling our tummies and emptying our bladders.
- Thanks to Dave Ramsey (I should really get paid for all this advertising), we have a $1000 emergency fund, and money saved up for all kinds of other upcoming things. And while we don't WANT to liquidate the dough we've saved for our trip to Puerto Rico (for instance), the simple undeniable fact is that we do have that money. The content of those envelopes is certainly not enough to cover everything, but we haven't lived "paycheck to paycheck" for years. If our paychecks were the ONLY money we had to scrape together. . . Ooo-whee we'd be in a a heap of trouble.
- Rodney and I completely agree about God :) We know that He is trustworthy, and that He will provide. There's no arguing about plans or about money, even.
- This trouble has presented the opportunity to come together and pray as a whole family, sans baby.
- Lastly is something I try to never take for granted. But when you're going to a funeral for a child, you cannot overlook the absolute blessing of having all of your own kids alive. It makes everything else-- the whole gamut-- completely, utterly, and wholly unimportant.
This is for sure the roughest patch we've been through since we started our own company over 4 years ago. Instead of getting us down and burying us in defeat and worry, it has instead served to demonstrate just how richly we are blessed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)