The progressing church

Have you ever been on website titled "concernedmembers.com"? Apparently, "concerned members" are a group of people from the church of Chirst who have given themselves the responsibilty of letting others know which churches are falling to the ways of "progressiviness." Whatever. The whole site makes me embarrassed to be a part of the "church of Christ." Oh, and, I noticed that my church- Tomball church of Christ- recently made their "naughty list." Sadly, I'm kind of proud of that!

Our church is going through a lot of changes right now and I have been quite challenged. Growing up in the church of Christ, I guess I never questioned the traditions, but now that I am.... whoa. Did you know that no where in the Bible does it say "do not use instrumental music in church"? Did you know that the NT offers examples of "deaconesses"? Did you know that pretty much every single person that God used for His glory was a confessed sinner? Yikes. A sinner. God can use a sinner????

In spite of the fact that I am questioning many of our ways, I'm at odds with whether or not to change our name from "church of Christ" to something else. There is something about that tradition that I don't want to let go of and I can't figure out why. I don't want to be obstinate, but I want to hold on to something that has been around for a while- something tried and true..... and it's not shape notes.

Heavy Heart

Our church family is grieving today. A couple at our church lost their son yesterday in a rock climbing accident. He was only 24 and was going to be married in July. My heart is breaking for this precious family and all they have been through and will be going through.

A few weeks ago, our minister, Rick, started a sermon series on the Psalms and the last two weeks have been about lamenting. None of us really want to know what it is truly like to lament- to cry out to God asking, begging "why?" It is comforting to know, though, that God, through the Psalms, tells us it's OK to question and it's OK to grieve. I imagine there will be much lamenting in the days to come.

Please pray.

I hate our dog

Maybe hate is a strong word, but I really dislike our dog. Her name is Sophie and she's a German Shepherd- about two years old. Now, I admit, I've never been much of a dog person. My husband loves dogs and grew up in a family of dog lovers and for that reason, I've tried. I really have.

Our last dog, Beau, was perfect for our family. He was calm and gentle and just fun to cuddle with. He never got into our food and never left the yard- even the front yard which isn't fenced in. I was actually pretty attached to him when we found out he had cancer and had to put him down last Thanksgiving. I actually cried- a lot. I knew we'd never have as good a dog as Beau.

Then, through the friend of a friend, we heard about Sophie and for some reason, we thought she sounded perfect for our family. Maybe God thought I needed to learn more patience- was two little crazy boys not enough, God? There have been several occasions when Sophie has eaten our entire dinner off the stove where I absentmindedly left it to cool. When my mom was here visiting a couple of months ago, Sophie ate an entire ham that my mom had left thawing in the kitchen sink. I know I know. It's kind of funny- but it's not, OK? It's annoying. She eats dirty diapers out of the diaper pail- leaves them shredded all over the floor. We have to make sure that all the trash cans are put away before we leave so she won't get into the trash. We also have to be careful when opening and closing the front door- she'll escape and lead us on a chase around the neighborhood. Today, though, today....she ate my make up! Why does a dog eat make up? That's just weird and it makes me angry!

I've been trying really hard to be patient with her, but my patience is running very thin. My husband, like I said, loves dogs and for his sake I've been trying. But, I'm seriously thinking about just letting her go out the front door.

"Mom- We have good news!"

That's what Sam excitedly yelled as he and Silas ran through the back door after playing outside last night. What could this good news be?? I soon saw the object of the boys excitement. Silas held a big ugly frog in his hands as he giggled overcome with happiness by this "good news." Jeff started laughing and I started screaming at which moment Silas dropped the frog and it hopped right towards me. I had been sitting on the floor, peacefully clipping coupons, and that frog came right towards me. I jumped up on the couch and all three boys found it hilarious that I was afraid of that dumb little frog. I wasn't really afraid- just surprised! The two boys chased the frog around the living room until Sam eventually caught it by the legs. They carried it back outside exclaiming what a good day it had been!

Now my idea of a good day and their idea of a good day are very different. But, I love that it's simple things like finding a frog in the back yard that constitutes good news for them. There is nothing that cheers me more than hearing my boys giggle over simple things! God is good to remind me that the best news is often so simple, we overlook it. Is there something small and simple that God placed in your life today that perhaps you overlooked but, maybe, God put it there just for you to take joy in? What "frogs" has God given you today?

What would I do without boys?

This afternoon, as I cuddled up with Silas, my almost three year old, for naptime, he said, "Mom- what would you do without your boys?" I told him I'd be so sad because I love my boys so much! But, it got me to thinking......

If I didn't have boys, I might have a clean house. But then I wouldn't have priceless pictures and memories of little boys with mud all over them or spaghetti all over their faces. If I didn't have boys, I wouldn't have to worry when I fell asleep and they didn't. But then I wouldn't get to see how incredibly creative my boys can be with the things they get in to. If I didn't have boys, my toilets wouldn't have pee-pee all over the rims. But then I wouldn't get to share in their excitement when their finally tall enough to pee standing up. If I didn't have boys, I wouldn't have to say, "Boys, that's enough potty-talk." But then I wouldn't get to delight in the fact that "pee-pee head" is the worst name they could come up with to call each other. If I didn't have boys, my furniture would look nice. But then I wouldn't get to be the princess when they make their forts out of all the cushions and chairs. If I didn't have boys, I might have a girl. Oh my goodness...what on EARTH am I going to do with a girl???

If I didn't have boys, I wouldn't get sloppy wet kisses, I wouldn't hear, "Mom, I think I'll just marry you when I grow up" and I wouldn't see smiles that could light up a room.

I am one blessed mama.

Silas's Poop

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Boys are gross. Silas, almost three and not quite potty trained, is extra gross. He's the one who I caught playing in our dog's puke yesterday. He's the one who always manages to find the freshest pile of dog poop in the back yard just so he can step in it. And he's the one who loves looking at his own poop. When I've finished changing his diaper, he almost always says, "Mom- lemme see! Lemme see! Was it yucky?" Um...yes. Poop is gross.

But it occurred to me, as nasty of an illustration as this is, that I sometimes do the same thing. Not with poop in the literal sense. But my own nasty sin. I know that we are human and God knows we are going to sin and I am no different than anyone else. I'm a sinner. God calls us to ask for forgiveness- to let Him wash us clean and move on. But, how often do I hold onto my sin? I hold onto it and sometimes, in a very worldly sense, may even be proud of it. I'm saving my own poop. Sin is nasty.

One blatant example I can think of is when I was in ninth grade. I had this English teacher who everyone in the whole school disliked- including me. One day during English class, she punished me for something I didn't do (I really didn't) and kicked me out of her class. On my way out the door I told her off, using a few choice words. I was SOO the cool kid in school that week. "Way to go, Erin...you told her!" These kind of comments I got often. And I relished in re-telling the story. I was a "hero" because of my sin. And I basked in it. Now, of course, I'm so ashamed.

I still do hold on to my sin sometimes. It may not be as blatant, but it's still there. My prayer this week is that God will make all my "poop" really obvious to me so that I can ask for forgiveness and be clean again!

Family of Dislocators

We ended up in the ER on Saturday evening. And NOT because of me or the boys! Actually, it was poor Jeff. Somehow, he managed to dislocate his jaw and he was having a hard time talking and eating. After a couple of hours of being uncomfortable, I could tell by the look in his eyes that he needed to go. So, we took the kids to our precious neighbor's house and I took Jeff to the hospital.

When we got there, the ER was very full and we knew that Jeff would be low on the priority list. And sure enough, he was. We waited for quite a while before we finally got called back and even then, waited some more. The doctor was a really nice guy who looked younger than us. (I can't believe how old we are getting.) The doctor was determined to make Jeff as comfortable as possible. They had a hard time diagnosing the exact problem. Some of the doctors thought it was dislocated, others thought it wasn't. I don't know if it was or wasn't, I just knew that my husband was in pain and I can't stand to see him hurting. Jeff kept apologizing to me because it was getting very late and the next day was mother's day. I didn't care. I was where I needed to be and doing what I should have been doing.

They finally sent us home around 12:30 AM and we still had to get prescriptions. So, we got the prescriptions and were home by 1:00AM. But, my evening wasn't over. I still had to make food for the breakfast I had volunteered to help cook for at our church. Jeff, poor thing, was so drugged up he could hardly keep his eyes open. So, I spent the next couple of hours in the kitchen and collapsed into bed around 3:00AM.

So, I was a little tired on Mother's Day and Jeff kept asking me if I was grumpy. Truly, Jeff, I wasn't! Just tired. I was so happy to be with you in the ER. So, I was a little tired the next day and it happened to be Mother's Day. I wouldn't be the mother that I am without the support of the father of my children, so, all in all, I feel very blessed that I got to be with you. And it was kind of entertaining to see you all drugged up, too!

I don't get it

My boys are almost three and five. Last year, at around this time, I really started to worry. All they wanted to do was play guns and swords and whatever other weapon they could make out of legos, toilet paper tubes, and their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Was I raising boys who had a tendency towards violence? I read a wonderful book that I would highly recommend to parents of boys and men, in general. It's called "Wild At Heart" by Eldridge. What a relief! According to Elridge, my boys are within the normal range. At least when it comes to playing rescue heros amd power rangers. Eldridge says that boys are born with a desire to "save the damsel in distress" and "fight the bad guys."

Sam, my four year old, loves showing me all of his new tricks. And let me tell you, they are a sight to see! He'll dress himself up in all kinds of crazy costumes which he think resemble a rescue hero and jump around with his paper towel tube (sword) and make all kinds of weird noises. (How do boys make all those noises???) He'll say, "Mom, did ya like it, did ya like it? Do you think I could beat the bad guys with that trick? Mom- was it dangerous?" I learned the BEST compliment I can ever give him is to say, "Oh my, Sam, that looked incredibly dangerous." And he will beam with pride and continue practicing all his "dangerous moves."

Sam and Silas love building forts with the living room furniture which is why we will not be buying bew furniture any time soon. (Even though it's all pretty nasty.) They take all the pillows off the couch and chairs and stack them up this way and that. And there's always a door. And they get frustrated with me that I never know which pillow is the door. And you don't dare try to go into the fort through any other way but the door. The cool thing about all their fort building is that I always get to be the princess they are fighting to save. I hope it stays that way for a while.

So, I don't get the whole being a boy, fighting off the bad guys thing. But I love watching my boys imaginations take shape and believe me, they have amazing imaginations! I can't make cool gun noises and great car noises like them, but if worse comes to worst, I can always be the princess.

Adoption News

We heard yesterday that we are "officially" on the waiting list to adopt our baby girl from Korea. We are thrilled. We have no idea when it will happen. Is she born yet? Is she in utero? Has she even been conceived? We have no idea. We could get the call next week or it could be next year. We truly don't know. All we know is that when God feels like we're ready, He'll give her to us.

Jeff said that one day last week was "Bring Your Daughter to Work Week." He said he couldn't wait to have a daughter that he could bring to work with him. (be still my heart!!!) Jeff is already convinced she'll be a daddy's girl. She probably will. But I hope she'll love me too!!

Please know that nothing gives us more joy than our two boys, Samuel and Silas. They are two of the most endearing boys I have every known and I LOVE being a mother to them. I'm honored to be a mother to them. We are not adopting because they do not complete us. We are adopting because we have felt for some time that our family is not complete. We believe that God gave us this longing. And we believe that God will fill this longing.

Please, God, take care of our baby- wherever she is! Comfort her if she's crying and tell her there's a mommy and daddy who can hardly wait to meet her! (And two big brothers who vow there will NEVER be Barbie's in our house.)

Super Nanny

I watched Super Nanny last night for the second time and I have to confess, sadly, that I could somewhat relate to the family that the Super Nanny helped. There were two boys, ages 7 and 3. My boys are not nearly as unruly as those children were, but I could see how the mother seemed to have forgotten how to play with her boys. I feel that way sometimes. Super Nanny talked to the mother about how she needed to have "Mommy and Me" time with each child every day. There are days when they end of the day will come and I'll ask myself, "What did I do with my children today?" And, regretfully, the answer is, "Not much."

For some reason, Super Nanny inspired me last night. You know, since the kidney donation about a month ago, I have spent more time coloring, doing puzzles, and playing games with the boys than I think I ever have. Mostly because I couldn't do much else, physically. I've seen the light in their eyes when Mommy offers to color a Ninja Turtle with them. I've heard them giggle when I pretend to lose the game we're playing. Super Nanny reminded me that those are such important things. Even if the laundry isn't done, the beds aren't made, and there are dirty dishes in the sink. There are more important things.

How long will the boys actually WANT to be with me? When will it be uncool? All I can say is that right now, my boys think I am so cool. Shouldn't I use that as an opportunity to love on my children? Shouldn't I delight in the fact that my boys want to hang out with me? Why do I complain about it? I realized I'm just selfish. There will come a time when my children will be gone. I'll have too much time to think about how lonesome I am. Right now, I'm just going to love on my children. And color as many pictures of Ninja Turtles as I can.