Horribly Good Motherhood

The Art of Apron Strings

2011-08-18T12:17:00.000-07:00

All mothers wear an apron and the apron has many strings. Now this apron may not be visible with calico patches and stains from last Thanksgiving’s gravy, but it is there nonetheless. The apron is a prized garment of motherhood that moms wear and all the mothers before them. I’ve been wearing my apron for over 5 years now and I’m about to cut my first apron string. My oldest child is starting kindergarten next week. (Insert sniffles, sighs, and glimpses of bittersweet tears) Now I know that in being a mom I will incur many more moments of cutting the proverbial apron strings or rather having them cut from my tightly closed fist but I have to admit I feel a little lost. But why should I? My child is not graduating high school and going off to college or getting married like some of my friend’s kids are. He's just going to kindergarten. So why am I hyperventilating and holding back sobs of sadness? Why I am snuggling with him a little longer at bedtime or playing just one more game of Memory? Why do I feel like karate chopping the hands of time? Momentum is moving me along and I really don’t want to move along with it. While I am so proud of the fact that I’ve reached this pivotal point in my “Mommy Career” the next chapter is still a little blurry. I am not a fan of change. It’s not my friend and I don’t greet change with a holy kiss. How did I get here? I use to feel like I had many more miles of diaper changes, midnight feedings, and Lego building. My days were lined out and time stretched before me. How did my children grow up so quickly? Hello, where have I been? Conflicted emotions are waging war inside my heart. On the one hand, I am really excited about this new phase of having school age children and on the other hand I just want to sing, through my tears, at the top of my lungs, Cher’s hit song “If I Could Turn Back Time.” If time cannot be stopped how I wish time were kinder, gentler and understanding. I wish time would explain itself and not remain such a mystery. But time will not let me stay here wallowing in my pity-party of yesteryears. I must forge ahead (carrying my scissors at my side with the point facing down) and snip a few of those precious apron strings. My life is waiting for me in the unfinished pages of my motherhood journey.

Hanging Around

2011-08-18T12:07:00.000-07:00

Life on Two Wheels

2011-08-18T11:50:00.000-07:00

A Quiet Moment

2011-07-22T13:52:00.000-07:00

(photo taken by Chad Chmelar)

I thought I might share a prayer I wrote in my journal a few months back. If it moves you, feel free to use it for your prayer time. Enjoy!

"Redeemer of my doubting heart; quickly pursue my fleeing soul. Secure me in the palm of your hand. Fasten me safely to the shelter of your arms. Close not your ears to the bleeding ruin of my life. Battle for my heart. Step up and be a warrior for things true and vital in my life. Rid me of all the evil lies that settle into my mind. Only you know the truth about who I am. God, you are the only thing that sustains me. You keep air in my lungs, joy on my lips, and hope in my soul. I have a hope for our eternity together. Help me to shine your valor and wisdom. Expose the true beauty of all my captive dreams. May your love rule over me. Let me wear your compassion like a garland of grace. Whisper your sweet words over me. In the dark, deep dead of night cleanse my wounds so I'll be made whole."

Florida Is Only 9 Hours Away

2011-06-09T13:34:00.000-07:00

Funny things that happened on our family vacation to the beach in Florida!

1. After leaving College Station, TX and driving for approximately 20 minutes Hagin asked if we were there yet?

2. Colton rode in a single seat in the back of the car with all the luggage. He is very energetic and social and we didn't know if he would be bummed sitting by himself. He was so absorbed in his Leapster games, movies and the excitement of the trip that he didn't seem to notice until about 8 hours into the car ride and said, "Hey, why I am back here all alone?"

3. Hagin first swim in the ocean and he gets a mouthful of water. His response, "That water is salty. Yummy." He then begins to lap at the water like a dog with his tongue.

4. The water in our toilet in the hotel room was heated. We didn't know if this was just some additional luxury perk of our Marriott stay. Let's just say, it was like going potty over a bowl of steamy pasta.

5. Colton's birthday was coming up and he really wanted a Darth Vader mask. We tried to tell him that we didn't really like Darth Vader because he wasn't a good guy. We told him, "Darth Vader hurt people and wasn't very nice." Colton said, "I don't want to hurt anybody, I just want the mask!"

6. The mixture of sand, water, swimsuit, and hours of play caused some chaffing on Colton's legs. We couldn't find little boy biker shorts to wear under his swimsuit to help with the problem, so we improvised. Chad bought little girl's pantyhose and cut the bottoms off to fit under Colton's swimsuit. Bet you've never seen a boy run so fiercely and manly in pantyhose.

7. Watching fireworks over the harbor one night, Colton asked, "Are the fireworks going to hurt Jesus?"

8. Hagin fell asleep on the beach with sand all over him. He was wiped out!

9. The boys loved playing on these little boogie boards. Hours of entertainment!

10. After leaving the hotel in Florida and stopping at the first red light, Hagin asked, "Are we back in Texas?"

Loving the Little Girl

2011-06-09T12:42:00.000-07:00

Back in October a dear friend and I were having a conversation on life's past hurts. He could sense that I was struggling with how to deal with some painful memories and wounds. He offered some sweets words of advice. He told me I needed to grieve for the hurting little girl that I once was so long ago and love who I am now. That sounded lovely I thought, but how do I go about doing this?

Fast forward to the end of April and I'm heading off to a women's retreat in Colorado. During one of the sessions, I was amazed as the speaker said almost the exact same words as my dear friend had months earlier. God is so funny like that.

The speaker went on to say, "Your wounds matter. They mattered then and they matter now. A wound that is denied is a wound that cannot heal. We as women, hate being needy, and we hate it when that little girl inside of us is needy. God is very serious about getting to our wounded hearts; not out of meanness but out of love. If you don't deal with the emotions of the past, He will bring up the pain again for us to deal with it. God doesn't want to leave us wounded, hurting, and hiding. You need to allow yourself time to grieve for that little girl you use to be that was never loved."

And you know what? That's exactly what I did. I'm not normally a teary, weepy, gushy type of a girl, but I cried more that weekend than I had in a long time. God came and spoke to my heart in ways I have never known before. It was really quite beautiful. I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote while I was there. The words read as if God was saying them about me. But I don't think it's just about me, I think it's about you too. So please read this as if God were saying this about you, because I believe he really is. Enjoy!

That little girl was my exhilaration

That little girl was my exclamation

That little girl I delighted in

That little girl I’d create again

That little girl was captivating

That little girl was worth saving

But that little girl never felt good enough

That little girl thought she was too much

That little girl saw no light in her

That little girl wouldn’t let me draw nearer

That little girl thought she shouldn’t have been born

That little girl’s laughter was met with only scorn

That little girl learned to trust no one

That little girl blocked out my Son

For years that little girl fought her fears

For years that little girl ignored her tears

Till one day my voice broke through

That little girl heard words that were true

That little girl grieved her loss

That little girl left sorrow at the cross

That little girl said, “I’m worth delighting in”

That little girl let new healing begin

That little girl knows I love her

That little girl calls me Father

That little girl is my pearl of wealth

Because that little girl learned to love herself

Matter of Life and Death

2011-04-26T13:46:00.001-07:00

Life is so fragile, monumental, and intricate. I lost a close friend to cancer and experienced the birth of my niece all in one short month. Talk about a roller coaster of emotions. It got me thinking about life and death and how tightly woven those two moments can be. Which is sadder for God, us being born into this world or dying and going to heaven? Are births are happy for us but bittersweet for God since he knows the struggles and heartache that lie ahead? Does part of Him rejoice in death because we’ve returned home to Him in heaven? In the blink of an eye God can give life and take death. We all come into this world the same way and we leave the same way…with absolutely nothing. We can’t we add any time to our life. How I wish we could at times. It seems like we should be able to for good behavior and Godly living? Don’t you know if that were the case there would be a whole world full of Mother Teresa’s. Why does the sting of death crush us so? Why does the miracle of life move us beyond words? The wonder of a baby being born is to be tasted like the sweetest of fruits. At the same time we drink in the tears of those we lost and wrestle with our doubts and misgivings. How can we experience such immense joy and pain all in one lifetime? To be fair to God I think it’s only right to know both since he did. Only then will we have the truest sense of our life’s journey.

(photo is of my niece, Nora)

A Sacrifice of Thankfulness

2011-03-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

Have you ever heard a young child pray? Do you know what most of their prayers consist of?

Thankfulness........

My kids spend almost their whole prayer time thanking God for everything: the ceiling fan, the windows, the light, the bed, the toys, the floor, etc . Sometimes I laugh inside because I think, how silly; how mundane; that's way too specific. But is it really?

How often are we thankful for the little things? How much time do we spend praising God for all the small, minor details He has given us? As grown-ups, why have we lost our innocent hearts of thankfulness?

Even the sing-song prayer kids say at preschool mentions thanking God.

"God our Father, God our Father

Once again, Once again

We bow our heads and thank you

Amen, Amen"

My prayers of thankfulness normally sound like this, "Thank you God for all our blessings." Period. The end. I'm sure God's like, "Ummmm....is that the best you've got?" If we are honest, most of our prayers are spent asking God for things....things we don't have. I know I'm guilty of complaining more than thanking. How about you?

We complain about traffic, long lines at the grocery store, or bad service at a restaurant, but do we ever thank God for the car we are driving in the traffic, or the money we have to buy the food at the grocery store, or the luxury of eating at a restaurant? Are we even capable of reframing our complaints into thanks?

In Psalms chapter 51 verse 23 it says "Giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors me." God was telling the Israelites I don't care about all these burnt offerings and animal sacrifices. He says, "Make thankfulness your sacrifice to me." Why is thankfulness so important to God?

Because being truly thankful in your heart is something that truly brings only him the glory!

My dishwasher has been broken for over 3 months, thus I have had the "awesome honor" of hand washing my dishes. The first few weeks weren't exhilarating and I played the "woe is me" card multiple times to my husband. But this experience has changed made me somehow. I am more aware of my ungrateful spirit and am now so thankful for even having running water let alone another dishwasher.

What are the small blessings in life we are taking for granted? If little children can be thankful for everything they have, why can't we be thankful too?

I decided to write out a detailed list of all the things I was thankful for and put it where I can see it daily. Whenever I start to be complacent in my heart towards the goodness of God I read it. I encourage you to do the same. Maybe this list will help give you a good beginning to having a thankful heart. You'll be amazed at how starting to being thankful for something small will turn it into....well....really not something small at all.

1. Spouse/Significant other

2. Children

3. Family

4. Health

5. Home

6. Car

7. Clothes

8. Food

9. Kitchen appliances

10. Indoor plumbing

11. Hot water for a hot shower

12. Religious freedom

13. Friends

14. Church

15. Relationship with God

16. Extended family

17. Photos/Videos

18. Phones

19. Vacations

20. Talents/Ablilites

21. Jobs

22. Books

23. Computers

24. Grocery Stores

25. Paved roads

26. AC/Heat

27. Electricity

28. Nature (trees, plants, flowers, rocks)

29. Animals

30. Music

31. Art

32. Sports

33. Sleep/Beds

34. Time

35. Restaurants

36. Sun rise/sun set

37. Schools

38. Medicine

39. Doctors/Hospitals

40. Police Officers

41. Fire Fighters

42. Military

43. Oceans, lakes, rivers

44. Air

45. Sun, Moon, Stars

46. Memories

47. Love

48. Modern Transportation

49. Minerals/Oils/Gas

50. Body, Mind, Soul, Spirit

Cheesy Goodness

2011-03-22T13:22:00.000-07:00

If I was able to pick my ethnicity based on my love for a certain type of food it would be Italian all the way. What's better then olive oil, al dente pasta, gooey mozzarella cheese, and soft, warm garlic bread? Ummm...I can't think of anything except maybe dessert. Are you right there with me? Now if you are looking for the absolute best Italian restaurant in the U.S. A. it's located in Coppell, Tx. The place is called Maurizio's and the owner is from the Amalfi Coast in Italy. I've eaten my weight multiple times over the years in Italian food all over the U.S. and this restaurant is by far the BEST. Trust me!

But this story doesn't take place in Coppell; it's right here in College Station and we don't have my beloved Maurizio's restaurant. We are eating one night at the Olive Garden, which for a chain, is semi-okay Italian food. (I ate their breadsticks once a week while I was pregnant with Colton.) Anyways, that night at Olive Garden, I'm chowing down on Fettucini Alfredo, Chad's eating mushroom stuffed ravioli and the boys are chomping on a bowl of macaroni & cheese. Chad's parents are there with us and after the meal is over, Chad's mom, Patsy is remarking on the amount of food that Hagin (whose 3) is eating. For the record, Hagin has had 3 breadsticks, Alfredo dipping sauce, croutons, and a bowl of macaroni & cheese. Hagin is working on his 4th breadstick and Patsy wonders aloud, "I don't know how Hagin has any more room in his stomach. Where is he putting all of this food.?" The ever observant and wise Colton exclaims confidently, "Hagin is putting the food in his mouth."

Consistent Sea=Consistency

2010-12-08T14:20:00.001-08:00

Everybody has their favorite place; the mountains, the lakes, the big cities, the resorts. For me, my all time favorite place is the beach. I absolutely love sitting in the sun, (covered in SPF 50) feeling the bits of sand sink in between my toes and looking out into the open water as far as I can see. As each wave pounds upon the shore, washes over my feet, it shifts the sand and goes back out to sea; I’m struck by the consistency of it all. You know, without a doubt, the waves will continue to swell, swirl, and slide across the sand, washing away what was there before. God is so creative to reveal his very nature to us through nature. Sand is pretty flat all by itself. It takes other things to shape it, mold it, and make an impression in it; like water, wind, and people. I like to think of God as the waves and my heart as the sand. My heart is grainy, flat, spread far and wide and it’s has impressions in it made by people. It’s been littered with trash, shells, rocks, and debris. And just like the waves continue to wash over the shore taking away the filth and making the sand clean again, so will God continue to take pieces of my heart out to sea, reshape it, and wipe it clean. He washes away what was there before and leaves something new. The wonder of it all is truly magnificent. The waves will never stop coming back for the sand, just like God will never stop coming back for our hearts.

A Grief Revisited (Part 1)

2010-12-08T08:37:00.000-08:00

A few months back I went through all my journal entries about my dad's illness. I thought it would be interesting to take snippets of what I wrote then and write comments about how I feel now. Looking at my grief a decade ago, many things have changed and some not...at times I feel I have grown and then I have moments of when I know I have not. Part 1 is glimpses of my journal entries (in grey) in the months leading up to his death. The red entries are my comments on what I think now! (All my journal entries (in grey) were written with God being the target audience; my comments (in red) were written to you)

Dear God,

“Lingering death is hard. The anticipation of pain is enormous to wake up to every morning. The “not knowing when” bites into my heart. I find myself drifting along, aimlessly awaiting my ultimate misfortune.” 10-16-00

My dad had cancer for many years at this point in my life but now is when he really started to take a turn for the worse. We knew it was only a matter of time until he was gone. I don’t know which is harder: a shocking, surprise death, or a slow lingering one. I’d said that death just stinks all the way around.

Dear God,

“I’m crying out my eyes out right now. Spells of sadness come upon me and nothing seems right. My world as I know it will be ruined forever. I’m stranded in sorrow. My overwhelming sense of loss gives me no other choice than to fly to You for comfort. The world that You created has failed to bring me joy.” 10-30-00

Relying on God in times like this one was and always will be hard. On the one hand I knew that God would bring me comfort and peace but it also seemed like He was the one who could stop all my pain by healing my dad if he really wanted to. It’s so hard to not question God, isn’t it? I trust Him but it’s so difficult. Is this what makes us stronger?

Dear God,

“Is there is no way to prepare for death? I wish we all had a visible time limit. To at least know when something will happen might be helpful; but then again, maybe not. I get so sad thinking about the end. What will life be like without my dad? How will my world function?” 12-7-00

I wonder if life would be easier if we all knew when our expiration date was coming up? Would we enjoy each day more and relish the simple pleasures of life? Or would that date be a constant worry in the forefront our minds, haunting us with every second we lose? Death is so frustrating because we have no control over it. We can’t conquer death, prepare for death, enjoy death, or even come back from the dead to tell others what it will be like. Death is the fundamental mystery and the biggest unknown, well at least for me it is.

Dear God,

“My life has settled to the bottom of a strange dark abyss. I’m losing my dad forever and I will never have another one. All my days are bursting with misunderstood emotions. I merely exist. Will I even like who I am without my dad?” 1-25-01

God is so unique. He is amazingly capable of healing some and not healing others. What is his thought process? How does He choose who stays and who goes? It is a thought out definitive method or is he up there doing rock, paper, scissors, with the angels? Over the years people have told me, “Well, God just really wanted your father up in heaven with him.” I think to myself, "Is that suppose to be comforting? What I really wanted to say (but never did) was, “Well, what does that say about you? You are still here on earth. Does God not want you up in heaven?” What’s interesting about God is how he can ease the pain of someone sick by letting them die and in that one action cause the pain of some many others. God must feel like he can’t win for losing. There were days when I just cried out to God and said, “I know you don’t desire my pain but you aren’t doing anything to stop it.” What does God do with our questions? What does God do with our sadness?

Dear God,

“What plan do You have for my life that requires all of this pain? I’m desperately wishing that death were all a bad dream. Can I keep denying the fact that my dad is dying? I feel so sick inside. My heart is shattering into a million pieces. I’m walking into this huge dark wilderness and the depressing inevitable death of my father is my only way out.” 3-1-01

It's funny to me now that I would question God's plan for my life then. Looking back almost 10 years later, I can't imagine my life any other way now. I'm so use to my loss, that now it seems like a side note to the rest of who I am. How sad it makes me to admit that but how healthy at the same time! I know my dad would not want me to linger and wallow in grief but part of me feels so dishonorable for not doing so. I read those words above and I well remember the "huge, dark wilderness" and I would never want to relive it. But I'm also grateful for the wilderness, which I know sounds so weird. Because when you are in the dark, it's so much easier to see the light.

Dear God,

“He is wasting away. Who he is, is no longer. Can’t you see his pointless suffering? God, please take him. It’s so very hard to see him this way. The meaningless pain is enough. Just please take him. My life is already half empty.” 4-25-01

Sitting on his bed, while holding his hand, my dad died the next day. He was 59 years old. I didn’t have a dad anymore. When death comes, it's as if your whole world turns surreal. People stop by with food and well-meaning but awkward condolences. The clock keeps ticking, the sun continues to shine, and the earth didn't stop spinning. The end of life is so hard to wrap your head around. You know what I mean? Over the years I've had many dreams of my father that I've tried to wrap my head around. Some were weird, some were disquieting, some were funny and one was unforgettable. In my dream, I was walking up a set of stairs and I could see my dad at the top. Once I got to the top I tried to hug my dad but I couldn't. (It was so frustrating, like in the dreams when you need to run and you can't) My dad was starting to disappear but before he vanished, he asked me one question. He said, "Do you feel His grace yet?" Many years and mood changes have come and gone since then, but my answer hasn't changed. "Yes, dad, I'm choosing to feel His grace."

A Flower By Any Name

2010-12-06T19:37:00.000-08:00

My life in flowers! See if you identify with any of the following:

(All these photos were taken by my husband, Chad)

To some we all look the same, but God notices each one of us!

Alone in a hard place; but growing

It's just a bad hair day!

Fragile and missing pieces but still standing

Sad and the tears won't stop

Feeling weighed down with worry by the pressures of life

Happy, vibrant, clean, and alive!

I'm Looking

2010-12-06T15:17:00.000-08:00

I got married about 6 months after my dad died, and I wrote the following poem a few months after my wedding. On my wedding day I can remember standing in the foyer of the church outside the sanctuary. I was all made up in my beautiful ivory wedding dress, grasping a bouquet of lovely red roses and holding back tears from my eyes. I was all alone. My bridal party had already walked down the aisle and I had but a few moments before the music would cue me to walk down the aisle myself and into the loving arms of my sweet soon-to-be husband. I turned my back to the door and cast my gaze down the hallway of the foyer; my mind and heart begging my dad to magically appear. I thought that if I believed hard enough, he would come walking around the corner with a smile on his face, pull me into his arms and tell me how much he loved me and how beautiful he thought I looked. What felt like an eternity of searching and willing God for the impossible was really just mere seconds spent looking for someone that never came. I'm still looking......

I turned around and

You weren’t there

Magically appearing out of the air

Lamenting loss causes

Portions of pitiful pain

I know that I will never be the same

You are gone yet

I still look for you now

I long to talk to you, but I don’t know how

Aching swollen emptiness has

Swallowed up my soul

Crying because my life will never be whole

Death’s vast canyon

Nulls my mind with nothing left

Than it’s dark detainment on this miserable cleft

Mysteries mixed with misery

Muddle my little brain

Pounding pressure to perform will drive me insane

Promises are broken

Immortality has died

Infinite sadness is now my only ride

Two Mary's

2010-12-06T14:23:00.000-08:00

Colton and Hagin have a preschool Christmas program coming up next week at their school. Being like any other crazy...err...I mean normal parent, I will have my camera and video camera ready to capture every moment. Chad and I joke that once the kids graduate from high school we will need one whole room just keep all the pictures and videos that we've taken of their lives. In the words of an Areosmith song, "I miss you baby and I don't want to miss a thing", so I guess that's my parenting approach! Anyways, so I've talked with the boys about the Christmas program and Hagin appears to not be excited. His class is dressing up like Christmas stars but he doesn't really like to be up in front of people. Hagin also claims to not like any of the girls in his class. There are seven girls and only four boys (counting Hagin) in the class. He says, in his words, "Those girls not nice. They say 'no' to me everyday." I have no words for this. I feel for him and think he has a long road ahead if he has already figured this out about girls at age 3! In asking Colton, what he will be for the Christmas program, he said, "All the boys are Joseph and the girls are Mary." I asked if they were going to be paired up with a Mary and Colton replied, "Yes, I get to pick a Mary, but it's going to be so hard to choose. Mom, do you think I can have two Marys?" I also have no words for this and think it will also be a long road ahead but not for him, but for ME!

Contentment

2010-12-06T12:36:00.001-08:00

Are you content? Is there a way to be content without ever wanting something more? Is wanting wrong? Learning to be satisfied when you know there is more to be had is a hard concept. To be truly satisfied with life might be an obscure unattainable nirvana. How do we achieve pure contentment? Is that even possible on this earth? Suppressing our natural desires for more money and “STUFF” is a difficult lesson to master. Why does that grass look greener on the other side? I’m so tired of being a human; trapped in all my frailties and weaknesses. Aren’t you? Sometimes it stinks to be just mere mortals let down by our own instinctive behaviors! I guess that’s why, deep down, everybody wants to be a super-hero with super-cool powers so we could rise above those lowly human temptations! (Or maybe that’s just me) Will we always be endlessly searching for that one more thing to make us happy? Are we merely discontent for the sole reason that we are human and wired with other world longings? Is there a way out of this mess? Lots of people live with a lot less and seem to be happy. Do we really need all these things? Can a house love us? Can a car love us? Can our clothes love us? No! Then why do we spend so much time wanting things that will never love us? If we really only need God to love us, then why don’t we spend more time investing in his love? Since he has created other people to love us, wouldn’t it make sense to love those people in return? So then, I ask you again, can we find contentment here on earth? The answer is Yes! For if God made us to love and be loved, then our sole reason for being here is…love. Love is our natural, instinctive behavior, which is our own, unique “super-cool power.” For in finding people to love, we have found true, pure contentment and that, my friend, makes you the ultimate super-hero.

God's Sweet Somethings

2010-12-06T09:05:00.000-08:00

Who decides who is cool and who is not? Who is the authority on pretty and ugly? Why do we care about all of this? In high school, how did the people that were popular become popular? Who made them that way? I can remember craving social acceptance in high school like it was forever out of my grasp. If you didn’t have a Dooney & Bourke purse, Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, and a Gap t-shirt you were not in the “cool high school echelon.” I can remember going to school with my fake Dooney & Bourke purse, and Abercrombie & Fitch jeans that I found at the thrift store, and just praying that I would fit in. Sadly, I don’t think I ever did. “O, high school, how I don’t miss you!” Here’s a toast to not being a teenager anymore…Cheers!! Aren’t you so glad we are beyond all that childish immaturity?? I wish!! I still struggle with these same insecurities as an adult, do you? What would it be like to walk into a room of people and feel so confident that you wouldn’t even care what they thought about you? I hate it that I’m even concerned about those things, aren’t you? As if the opinion of a total stranger should be able to shape who I am for the rest of my life! How foolish am I? How do we move beyond "worrying" how others perceive us? How do we get rid of those old images that creep in and steal our moments of glory? I have found I have to constantly remind myself of how God sees me. It's a daily difficult mantra I must pursue to have any type of sanity. Day after day it’s a battle to remember, I’m a child of God, made in His beautiful likeness. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if we could dab on the beauty of God like our favorite makeup product or clothe ourselves with his style and grace? If I could just relish and pour out the truths of God upon my heart everyday and really believe it, what image would I see in the mirror then? I’ve long loved the phrase, “Whisper sweet nothings” and I got to thinking about what it would feel like for God to whisper a “sweet nothing” to me. But I wouldn’t want it to be a “sweet nothing”, I would want it to be a “sweet something.” Can you just picture our Heavenly Father, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You’re my favorite” or “You are my best work yet” or “I think you’re totally cool.” What would that do for our self-esteem? What kind of glorious work would we be able to accomplish with thoughts like that floating around in our brain all day? How wonderful to know those things are actually true! Everyday is just another example of how fragrant his love is for us. God wants to be whispering his “sweet something’s” in your ear today. Will you take the time to listen? Stop! Breathe! Let every fiber of your soul sink into the goodness of God. “You are His joy; You are his love; You are His delight.”

God’s Sweet Somethings:

I love your laugh
I delight in your beauty
I’m yours/ You’re mine
You’re my favorite
I’m enraptured by you
I smile at the mere thought of you
You are worth rescuing
I love the way I made you
I love who you are
I’ve counted your tears
I’ve never lost my faith in you
I will never stop loving you
You’re my first thought of the day
There’s no where you can go that I’m not
I’ve searched for you
I know you and I like what I know
Your normal—everybody else is weird!
Your hips and thighs are just the right size!
You’re never more beautiful then when you cry
You matter to me
Your weakest moment is my strongest
Every sunset is painted with you in mind
You are my muse for creation
Hearing your voice in prayer is a melody to my heart
I long for you
You bear my image to the world

A Fatherless World

2010-09-27T15:06:00.000-07:00

Do you have a father? What is he like?

Did you lose your father? Do you want another one?

If you’ve never had a father, do you still long for one? Is it possible to miss or want for something you’ve never had?

Do we ever outgrow the need for a “father” in our lives? Will we ever mature and not crave that support and encouragement? The trajectory of my heart doesn’t want to have this need for a father in my life. This need makes me feel…well…needy. I don’t want to be needy but I have needs and I feel the need for a father in my life. I know logistically I can’t have someone I call father, but I think a father is so much more than just a person who shares your DNA. A father is someone who shelters you, protects you, encourages, makes time for you, and loves you as his own. All those things sum up everyone’s natural human desires. I’m not saying you can’t get those things from a mother, or spouse or friend, you can, but a father can give you something in a much different way.

For example, a mom can tell her daughter that she’s beautiful and she feels good. A husband can tell his wife that she’s beautiful and it feels great. But when a father tells his daughter that she’s beautiful, YES...this is when your heart becomes alive. I recently heard the actress, Jennifer Anniston, promoting her new movie called The Switch. It’s about a woman who wants a baby but can’t find the right guy so she decides to get a sperm donor and have a baby. In an interview Jennifer Anniston says that you don’t have to have the role of the father anymore in order to have a child. I personally like Jennifer Anniston but I was floored to hear her say that. How can we just take the role of the father out of our lives? It’s essential to our makeup. Having a father is at our core what makes us who we are; either with one or without one. Having spent the last 9 ½ years of my life without a father I can attest to how much it has shaped and molded my life. You can’t just write off the role of a man because science has provided women with another way to have a baby. We all need a “father” to speak into our lives. I know that my children love me and I have a great time with them. But when they are with their dad, it’s has if the whole earth has shifted. They adore time with their dad; they crave it like I crave iced white chocolate mochas. I’m not hurt or jealous of my boys affections for their dad at all. I know my boys need time with him. I want them to have it. They need that strong male influence that only he can bring. They need to know they are men, that they are strong, and that they matter. I can tell the boys (as John Eldredge would say) “they have what it takes.” But man, when my husband bestows on them the blessing of his spoken words their faces are radiant. The light of the men they will be one day shines through their eyes when they hear their Father say, “I’m so proud of you.” They are living the legacy that they are greater then the sum of their parts. They are diving into a great journey, an epic adventure, where they are the heroes and they will save the world. Why would I ever want to deny them that privilege? We can’t destroy the part a dad plays in the life of his child. It’s vital to their very being. I don’t comprehend how the media can say that it doesn’t matter if you have a father or not. Everyone needs a father or male role model in his or her lives.

(Now, please don’t think as though I’m coming down on single moms. I have the greatest respect for moms who are doing it all on their own. If you have children and no husband, find a male figure that can speak to them and impact them for good. It might be hard to find someone but truly pray about it. All your efforts will be well worth and your child will be better for it.)

So I’m back at my fundamental question, what about those adults still longing for a father? How do we go about obtaining one? It’s not like you can just meet some older man and say, “Hey I’m not attracted to you but could we get some coffee sometime and you pretend to play the role of my father?” How awkward! With a father you’ve known since birth there is a relational capacity that doesn’t need a whole lot of time to develop. How do I, a married woman, develop a relationship with an older, possibly married man? What would that look like? Am I the only one who feels this way? Is there something functionally wrong with me? Should I have already moved on? If the desire is there am I suppose to pursue the desire or suppress the desire? Is this a desire from God? I’ve been asking Him but I haven’t heard back yet. There is a fear buried deep in my soul that I’m alone living in a fatherless world.

Muddy Boys

2010-09-27T13:38:00.000-07:00

I believe it is a right of passage for every boy to play in the mud. A few months back, the boys played in a huge mud pit at their grandparent's house. The boys were so muddy that the only thing white on them was their teeth! I even found mud in their noses and ears! This is what life is all about---O to be a child again! Enjoy this short video!

What's In a Name?

2010-09-27T12:41:00.000-07:00

As I've said before, I write the boys letters on their birthdays. Several of you really enjoyed reading part of the letter I wrote for Colton and since Hagin's birthday was last month, I thought I might share a portion of what I wrote to him. I decided to tell Hagin the story of how we chose his middle name, which is Isaiah. Being someone who is madly obsessed with names, I always enjoy hearing the stories of how people got their names. Maybe one day Hagin will pass this story along...

One thing I wanted to share with you is a story about your middle name, Isaiah. I wanted you to know that even though we didn’t choose your middle name to be after anybody in the family, there was an important reason for why we chose it.

Your dad and I met on a mission’s trip, the summer of 2000, in Germany. We lived in a castle and handed out The Jesus Film videos to people at the Worlds Fair. Your dad and I began talking and hanging out and really liked each other. (I know that might be gross for you now, but I promise, one day, you will have your own love story!) We were in Germany for two weeks and at the end of the time I was getting a little anxious about what would happen to us when we got back to the U.S. I had a lot of disappointments in my past and I couldn’t imagine someone as wonderful as your dad coming into my life. On our last day in Germany, your dad showed me a verse in the Bible that God had laid on his heart. We both read it together and had such a peace about our relationship. We knew then that God wanted us to be together and that He would work out all the details. The verse your dad found was in Isaiah, chapter 43 verses 18 & 19. It says,

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

And you know what Hagin? God did help us forget the past and see that he was giving us something new, each other! In fact, your dad and I are more in love now then we even were back then. It is my ardent prayer for you that one day, you find a woman who fills your heart as much as your father fills mine. So you see Hagin, that even though your middle name may not be named after your dad or a grandparent, you are named after a moment in time when your dad and I fell in love. So please don’t ever think we just randomly picked some name for you to have. No, we wanted to give you a lasting legacy of the love we feel for one another. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think back to that moment in Germany when I read that verse and looked at your dad and knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Love is what you are named for and that is the image that you bear; one of God’s faithfulness and love!

All Things Heaven

2010-09-10T15:19:00.000-07:00

Colton and I have frequent conversations about Jesus, heaven, the cross, and dinosaurs. Now the last one doesn’t really have anything to do with the first 3 but Colton is four years old and easily distracted, so our conversations have many tangents! On a cloudy day, Colton will often complain that the clouds are blocking his view of "Jesus in the sky." He also wants to know when we are going to heaven to play with all the toys. At times I think he gets more excited about going to heaven then I do…

Do you get excited thinking about heaven? I'm not sure that I give the pearly gates enough credit for how amazing it most likely will be. I know what it feels like to be on earth. It's familiar, comfortable and fun. I don't know what it's like to be in heaven, but I know I have to die to get there and that's the part I'm not excited about. (Wouldn’t it be weird if I were totally stoked about death?)

When you think of being in Heaven, what's the first thing that pops in your mind? My mind often wonders, "What will I be doing?" Will I be seated on a cloud playing a harp? Will I be chilling in my mansion with long lost friends and family members? Will heaven be an endless church service? (As much as I love church, I sure hope heaven isn't a sermon for all eternity)

A few weeks ago, Colton and I were talking about why Jesus died on the cross and he asked if Mommy and Daddy were going to heaven. We told him we were (because we had confessed our sins and asked Jesus into our hearts.) Then the moment came that I think most parents long for…Colton wanted us to help him pray to Jesus so that he could go to heaven too. Now, I know what you’re thinking… he only wanted to pray so that he could go to heaven with us and I’m sure you are probably right. He’s only four so his theological intellect isn’t quite up to par. (Whose is?) But if you could have heard him pray I’m sure it would have melted even the coldest of hearts. Without a doubt, God loves those kinds of prayers from children more than any long-winded eloquent prayer from adults! Why else would he tell us to have faith like a child?

Sitting on Colton’s bed later that night, he got on his knees, folded his little hands and repeated these words after Chad. (Colton ad-libbed a few of his own personal touches to it, which were endearing to God.)

“Dear God, I’m sorry I don’t always obey my mom and dad. I’m so sorry. I’m going to obey them tomorrow. Please forgive me. Thank you for dying for on the cross. I love you. I want you to be in my heart and help me. Amen.”

Chad and I looked at each other that night with tears in our eyes and smiled a knowing smile that said, “YES! We did something right with parenting. Score 1 for us!"

As I sit here now thinking about how the last four years of my life have been spent teaching my boys, shaping them, disciplining them and training them to become a Godly young men, I marvel at how wonderful heaven seems now. To know that my sweet baby boy will be there with me one day is the most satisfied feeling I’ve ever had. Not that being with God for all eternity isn’t thrilling enough within itself, but to know that I get to experience God with my kids, well, that is something I will treasure forever. To form the mind of a child is an honor. To have the heart of a child is an unending gift. But to help save their soul from death is...priceless.

Holy Noodles

2010-08-27T13:27:00.000-07:00

Swimming at a friend's house the other day, Colton was busy playing with some swim noodles. (For those of you who may not know what swim noodles are, they are long, slender pieces of foam that you can float with in a pool.) Anyways, Colton gets out of the pool and lays two of the noodles down on the ground and calls me over to where he's at. I get out of the pool and see Colton laying on top of two noodles that he has shaped into a familiar symbol. Beaming with pride he says, "Look Mom, I'm Jesus and I'm dying on the cross."

No Words Needed

2010-08-18T13:36:00.000-07:00

(Joy, Chad and his grandparents in their kitchen. I obviously looked like I had swallowed an enormous basketball. That basketball is now known as Colton!)

See that old wooden table sitting next to a bay window in Chad’s grandparent’s homey kitchen. It overlooks acre upon acre of lush, green rolling ranch land dotted with leafy oak trees asking for someone to come enjoy their shade. On any given day you can find George and Lenora, (Chad’s grandparents) sitting quietly at this table, wordlessly gazing out the window at their contented cows and peaceful ponds. They have been sitting at this same weathered table in this same spot with that same distant look in their eyes for over 60 years.

(Chad's Grandma in her younger days and Chad's Grandpa in his World War 2 Army Photo!)

Recently we took a quick family road trip to see my grandparents, Grady and Gordon Holton. Next month they will have been married for 68 years! After returning from the trip Colton commented, “Great- grandma Holton is old. Why is she so old?” I laughed and said, “That’s just part of life. We are all getting older ever day.” In his childish innocence he said, “Well, I don’t want to get old.” I thought secretly to myself, I don’t want to either.

(My Grandparents during World War 2. My Grandpa served in the Navy)

(My Grandparents with Colton and Hagin on our recent trip to their house)

Despite my reluctance with old age there was something quite beautiful that I noticed about our grandparents. None of them required a lot of words in order to communicate. It was as if they could predict each other’s movements and thoughts. They knew how the other one liked their iced tea and where they were going to sit, and where to put things back in the kitchen, or what shows to watch. Everything that needed to be said had already been said years ago. It wasn’t an awkward silence. There was a familiarity, an edge of comfortableness in their quietness. It’s not that they didn’t want to talk to each other but there was such a closeness and unity of the mind that they didn’t need to. It was a silence that held years of knowing. They knew each other so completely that all they had to do was sit side by side and enjoy their time together. Wouldn’t you love to have that depth of understanding with another person? It’s like they are communicating on another level. Talking without words is a whole upper echelon of marriage that takes time to obtain through faithful years of committed verbal communication. When the slightest glance into each other eyes says, “You fulfill me” or the smallest touch of the hand says, “I love you”, then you’ve reached “old person ESP utopia.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I like hearing the words “I love you” over and over again but do I have to hear them to remind myself that Chad loves me? Doesn’t he show me that he loves me everyday? I need to choose to see the different ways he loves me, like helping with the kids, taking out the trash, paying the bills, and going to work. All of those actions equate, “I love you Joy”. Over the years we grow accustomed to hearing thoughtful words, like, “I love you” and “You’re beautiful” or “I enjoy spending time with you.” But what would it feel like to wake up every morning and know it; to really know it in every fiber of your being? Can you look in the eyes of your spouse and see the years they’ve spent loving you? What will it feel like to gaze upon each wrinkle of their face and know that is was a milestone in your life too? Do you want to see the admiration of who’ve you become echo in the soul of your spouse?

In over 60 years of marriage, our grandparents have gained the knowledge of steadfastness, faithfulness, and commitment. They lived life together for so long that his rhythm became hers and her beat became his. Even after all this time their love for each other is still so evident. They know every nook and cranny, every quirk, like and dislike of that other person. Their focus isn’t on what they are doing or what is being said but on being together. Of course they went through definite hard times but they had each other every step of the way. They sat in the trenches of life and fought battles side-by-side, arm in arm. They gave life together and raised their children side-by-side, arm in arm. They loved, they fought, they cried, they laughed, and one day they’ll die but the point is that they lived. Our grandparents can enjoy the fruits of their marriage because they worked to keep it together. They never gave up.

The other day, at Chad’s grandparents farm, we took the boys down to the pond to fish and his grandparents watched us from their bench on the back porch. Watching us fish was their entertainment. They didn’t need an Ipod, or TV, or the Internet or a cell phone to keep them occupied. They enjoyed watching their grandchildren and great grandchildren enjoy the land they cultivated for years. They sat together in harmony relishing the heritage they helped form. I want that. I need that. I want to be free of the world’s distractions and delight in the legacy I leave for future generations. I want to enjoy the moment, to feel the moment and remember the moment.

I sit at Chad’s grandparents old table, and stare out over the fields that reflect their life together. Countless hours have been spent by them looking at the same view everyday. Once they are gone, who will look out that window? Who will sit in their seats? Who will see the things they see through their eyes? Who will think the things they think and who will feel the level of oneness they share? It is sad to consider that but maybe there is a comfortable solace in your soul when you’ve spent your entire life diligently loving that person.

I want the legacy of a long lasting marriage like that of my grandparents and Chad’s. Do you? What satisfaction to know that you have been apart of something together, something bigger then yourself and you’ve done it well. I want my marriage to be so intertwined that no one can see where I end and where Chad begins. I don’t want to be old but if I have to then I’m glad I have someone to grow old with. I don’t want to get wrinkles and baggy saggy skin but at least I will have someone getting wrinkles and sags right along with me. I’m going to get old and I may have gnarled leathered hands but there will be another old wrinkled hand clasped in mine, silently saying, "Come on old woman, let's go sit in our rocking chairs."

Hagin's Body Art

2010-07-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when an almost 3 year-old is left alone with markers!

Love Again

2010-07-28T15:03:00.000-07:00

My mom got remarried on July 17th 2010 and I wrote a poem for her and my step-dad. I read it at their wedding reception. Both my mom and her new husband, Bob, had lost their spouses to battles with cancer. God was so faithful and gracious to bring them together to share life with each other. I am so excited for them and pray that God would bless their journey. Enjoy the poem! (The poem is told from their point of view)

My years were marked by tears and sorrow

My heart was lonely for a better tomorrow

There were seasons of grief; dark with despair

Aching for days of happy air

But God was near to my broken heart

Rejuvenated my spirit with a fresh new start

Who would have thought our paths could collide

Bursting with joy brought in by love’s tide

Breathlessly awaiting our future together

Enjoying the journey for worse or for better

Moments left wanting have now been restored

With peace and deliverance secured by the Lord

Warmer sunsets will be ours to behold

For I see in you the reflection of my soul

Love stands before us; stretching the strands of time

Let us be a tree whose roots grow deep intertwining your hand in mine

What a dream you are from beginning to end

And I’m forever grateful to have learned to love again

by: Joy Chmelar

Lost in Translation

2010-07-28T14:50:00.000-07:00

Colton crawled in bed with us one morning and said and I'm going to tell you a story about Jesus.

"Jesus died on the cross and threw away our sins. Then he got into a boat and paddled to Colorado. Then he went back to heaven. The end."

I'm still searching for this story in the Bible. Let me know what version of the Bible you find his rendition in!

We Don't Trust God

2010-07-28T14:07:00.000-07:00

(Photo of my sister Rhonda and me)
About a month ago my sister kept the boys for the day to give me a break. (IT WAS GLORIOUS) They had a blast too making play-doh from scratch, feeding ducks in a pond, singing songs, and going for a walk. (She's a preschool teacher and therefore has unlimited ideas of how to keep kids entertained) Once I got back, she told me a story about the walk they went on. She said, "Colton was really worried that I didn't know where I was going and that I wouldn't know how to get back to the house. He kept asking, why are we going this way? Do you know how to get home?" She went on and said, "I kept telling him again and again, I know the way. You have to trust me."

I was immediately struck by the parallels of my own walk with God. I worry about where he's leading me. Does that happen to you? I question him and say, "Why are we turning this way?" or "Are you sure you know where we're going?" or "Look God, I bet there's a shortcut over here." This scenario takes place in my life more often than I wish. He is trustworthy, so why do I have a hard time trusting Him? Do you?

If we could train our minds to truly listen to the voice of God, I'm sure he's saying this, "I know things that you don't know. I am leading you and it might be a different way than you're use to but if you trust me, I will always lead you home."

Colton's Birthday Letter

2010-07-28T13:19:00.000-07:00

Every year, since the boys were born, I have written them each a letter on their birthdays. I'm keeping the letters and will bind them into their own books once they turn 18. The letters contain different snippets of things they did that year. For example: toys they play with, funny things they say, who their friends are, and what we did together as a family. I also include some "motherly wisdom" and prayers for the men I hope they become one day. I thought I would share a part of Colton's letter that I wrote for him on his 4th birthday.

Dear Colton,

"You are four years old already!! I can hardly believe my eyes. There isn’t even a hint of baby left in your face. You are all big boy now! I feel as though I can look in your eyes and see glimpses of the man you will be one day. Colton, you are so amazing. I marvel at the wonder of who you are. No one else is quite like you. These past four years spent with you have been some of the best of my life. Thank you for filling my days with laughter, curiosity, creativity, compassion, and exuberance. I pray that I am able to return the favor. "

"Your mind is a brilliant gift and I hope you fill it up with the goodness of God. I know at times it may seem like I don’t understand you or I’m not being fair, but I pray daily for God’s help to make the right decisions for you. Please don’t ever doubt how much you matter, how much you are worth and how much you are loved. God has designed you so perfectly for His glory. I pray that you will seek His will for your life, that you would run after your passions and freely give yourself to the total abundance of Christ. There are so many things I want for you but maybe more than anything, I want you to understand that only true joy can come from God. I pray that He would put people in your life who reflect His joy. Please don’t ever be so blind as to miss the blessings that God has planned for you. I will always be praying for you, loving you, accepting you, and supporting you. You are my son and I will never give up on you. I am a better person for having had you in my life. I will love you no matter what. All of your days have been ordained for you and the glory of God shines through your eyes every time I see you smile. I love you my beloved son. I am well pleased with you. Go forth into the world and live a legacy of greatness. You have what it takes, Colton! I believe in you. "

Love,

Mom

Colton and Friends

2010-06-25T14:33:00.000-07:00

Here is a clip of Colton singing with his class at their end of the year school program. They are singing Jesus Loves Me and it's pretty precious. Colton is a little shy but gets into it half way through the song and then fades off again. (Colton is in the blue shirt on the front row in between a little girl and boy) Enjoy!

Colton's Dance Moves

2010-06-25T14:17:00.000-07:00

Here is a video clip of Colton dancing at his aunt's house. He's got some pretty cool moves which I'm sure he gets from his dad!

Chmelar One-Liners

2010-06-14T14:03:00.000-07:00

1. "The trees are thirsty Mom. That's why it's raining."---Colton

2. "When I get old, will I die on the cross too?"---Colton

3. Colton wanted a cookie and I said no. "May I just have a bite then", he asked. I said no again. Then with his big beautiful blue eyes looking right into mine he sweetly said, "May I please have a crumb?"

4. "Why are girls pretty?"---Colton

5. When asked what he wanted for dinner, Hagin responded "I not hungry. I want candy."

6. Chad and the boys are playing pillow fight and Colton yells at Chad, "Dad, don't protect yourself."

7. Colton told us his own version of a Bible story the other day. "Jesus died on the cross and threw away our sins. Then he got in a boat and paddled to Colorado and went back to heaven."

8. Colton was trying to figure out the meaning of forgiveness the other day and this is what he came up with. "Even when I'm mean to Mommy and Daddy, you still love me and God still loves me. (Big sigh) I sure don't know why God me loves so much."

9. When asked to take his dishes to the sink, Colton complained and that his stomach hurt so bad that he couldn't do it. I told him, "If your stomach hurts that bad, you probably should go to bed." Quickly he replied, "Mom, my stomach doesn't hurt anymore. Can you believe it stopped hurting so fast?"

10. I told Colton I was going to go hop in the shower. Puzzled he asked, "Mom, why are you going to hop in the shower?" Kids are so literal aren't they??

A Cheerful Giver

2010-05-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

There were grumblings and rumblings in the Chmelar household. “I don’t have anything to play with” or “I’m bored” and “There’s nothing for me to do” had echoed throughout the walls of our house for some time. Are you familiar with that sound? Now, frankly, I’m not the type of person who wants my children to grow up ungrateful or with a sense of entitlement. What parent does? I gave multiple warnings of “Go play with your toys or else” but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Kids have such selective hearing don’t they? I decided to take some action and rid my children of their bad attitudes. After the last whiny syllable was uttered from the mouths of my babes, I ushered them into their bedrooms and sat them on their beds. I whipped out a huge trash bag started to tell them that if they didn’t want to play with their toys, then I would give them to other little boys and girls who would play with them. The boys sat their wide eyed as I dumped bucket after bucket of toys into the garbage bag. I went on a third world rant and explained to the boys the plight of other children all over the world. “There are kids with no food, no clothes, no beds, and no homes, let alone toys to play with”, I explained. The boys looked sad and both apologized for not being grateful. I told them I forgave them and wanted them to learn two basic things: Be happy with what you have and be willing to give to others. They really got into it after that and started pointing out toys that they no longer played with to give away. Later on, once some toys were cleared away, they actually began to play really well with the “remaining toys” (or lucky survivors of Operation Joy Overhaul.) Kids today seem to get overwhelmed with the sheer volume of choices, objects and instant gratification available to them, don’t you think?

For those of us living in the U.S. we live with massive amounts of excess. I look around my house and think; do I really need all this stuff? Is it making me a better person? I love getting rid of clutter around my house. I donate things all the time. The experience is so freeing; I feel lighter; like I’ve just lost ten pounds! I want my kids to grow up knowing the peace of contentment and the joys of giving. It’s not something I encounter all the time but I would like for it to one day be as natural as breathing. Don’t you?

The small rewards that come with parenting paid off the other day when Colton exuberantly said, “Mom, let’s give those boys and girls my bed!” I smiled and asked, “What would you sleep on if I gave away your bed?” “Oh, I can sleep on a blow up mattress”, he responded. It’s moments like those when you can drink in the deep satisfaction that you truly did something right with your kids.

Up the Walls

2010-05-25T13:28:00.000-07:00

This is a video of Colton climbing up the door frames at our house. I don't know how he does it because no one is helping him. Do most three year olds do this? I have no idea. He flashes his muscles at me and talks about how strong he is all the time. I guess this is proof that he's telling the truth!

Redneck Swimming

2010-05-25T12:56:00.000-07:00

This is a video of the kids swimming at their grandparents house. It wasn't quite warm enough to swim but the boys had been begging to jump in the pool. Their grandpa hooked the water hose up to the water heater inside the house and poured hot water into their baby pool. That's why the water looks brownish! But who cares?? The boys had a blast!

Privacy Starts with "P"

2010-05-24T17:49:00.000-07:00

I wanted to potty in privacy

Without childish eyes watching me

I wanted to talk on the phone without being interrupted

I wanted a body that was fit, skinny, and sculpted

I wanted to remember where I misplaced my keys

I wanted to cook a dinner not involving macaroni & cheese

I wanted to eat ice cream but didn’t want larger hips

I wanted to be guilt free when I ate a whole bag of chips

I wanted to sleep for hours and be rested in the morning

I wanted my kids to think I’m cool; never dull or boring

I wanted to be more than a chauffer; “Um…where’s my limousine?”

I wanted my house to look like a Pottery Barn magazine

I wanted to wear an outfit that didn’t scream “old hag”

I wanted a sippy cup that didn’t leak in my diaper bag

I wanted to go a day without spills and snacks on the floor

I wanted the kids to remember to close the refrigerator door

I wanted toys that made no noise and always got put back right

I wanted tired children who slept all through the night

I wanted to lie on the sofa and watch the Food Network all day

I wanted the kids to obey every single word I’d say

I wanted just a moment of no tattling or whining

I wanted one trip to the grocery store minus meltdowns and crying

I found that all my wanting left me sad and discontented

How could the life God blessed me with be something I resented?

Have you found yourself wanting more of this, that, & the other?

Just remember God has honored you by making you a mother!

Personal Confessions

2010-05-21T14:40:00.000-07:00

1. Back when I was a secretary in Colorado Springs I wore a bridesmaid dress to work one day. I figured I had spent a lot of money on it and I might as well get one more wear out of it.

2. At the same job in Colorado Springs, I made the caffeinated pot of coffee decaf for a whole week to see if anybody noticed. Nobody did. Makes me wonder if caffeine is a mental mind game.

3. I never eat the last bite of a banana. It's disgusting and grosses me out.

4. My sweet husband, Chad, grew up on a farm and while we were dating he gave me the chance of a lifetime. He asked if I'd be willing to castrate a calf for him. To prove my undying love for Chad, I castrated the calf in question. I'll never be the same and neither will the calf.

5. I can't stand automatic toilet flushers! They always seem to flush at the most inopportune times.

6. Back in 2000, I set a goal to memorize the entire book of Psalms. Ten years later, I've only memorized 30 chapters, out of 150.

7. I've never broken a single bone in my body.

8. As a young girl, I took all my brother's matchbox cars to play with them. I named all of them; some were boys and some were girls. Please tell me somebody else did this too???

Remember Me

2010-05-21T14:24:00.000-07:00

Do you embrace each day as if it's your last? I wish I did. I find it hard to get past the worry of the here and now to be present in the here and now. Do you? Life is profound and yet profoundly missed once it’s gone. How do we go on living knowing each second counts? Are we celebrating the small things like the smell of a rose or a glimpse of the setting sun? Do we hug our children daily and kiss our spouses nightly? Have you called an old friend to tell them you love them? All of those things are good and important but how do we get the most out of life? How have we made an impact? Have we left our mark? Who will talk about us? Who will pass us down from generation to generation? I don’t want the memory of me to fade off into future sunsets. Who will remember me? Who will remember you?

Hold My Hand

2010-05-21T13:59:00.000-07:00

Going for a walk with Colton the other day I was struck by how good his little hand felt wrapped up in mine. There was an unspoken bond between us that resonated in my soul. The emotion it invoked inside my heart was so natural and innocent. It was as if his hand had always been meant to fit in mine. Then a peculiar thought quickly occurred to me. If I let go of his hand and leave him standing there, would he know how to get home? (In case you are wondering, I didn’t do that!)

Colton had such a simple trusting of me during our walk. He knew I was going to lead him in the right direction. He was certain I would keep him from harm, hold his hand and guide him along the way. When we got to the end of the walk we smiled because we knew where we were. We were at home. Once the walk was over, I let go of his hand because he didn’t need it anymore. A walk such as this is like his life’s journey. I’m leading him, instructing him, holding on to his hand, only to let go once he’s arrived at his departing destination.

As cheesy as it sounds, my walk with Colton reminded me of a Hootie & The Blowfish song. Who knew Hootie had so much parental insight? Read the lyrics to the chorus below or sing along if you’re a die-hard Hootie fan:

Hold my hand 

Want you to hold my hand 

I'll take you to the promised land 

Hold my hand 

I'm gonna love you the best that, the best that I can

Are you holding your child’s hand? Are you leading them to their own “promised land”? Will you love them, the best that, the best that you can?

Are You My Father?

2010-04-26T13:30:00.000-07:00

My dad died 9 years ago today. My thoughts and feelings on his passing are somewhat removed and disjointed at best. Nevertheless, in my quest for self-improvement, I wanted to share with you a few thoughts. I wrote to God this morning in my journal concerning my father. If you've ever lost someone close to you I'm sure you'll be able to relate. A glimpse into my soul follows:

Dear God,

I found your words today, in the book of Psalms, poignant and none too subtle for me. "I am a father to the fatherless." Okay, great! But are you truly my father? The hardest day of my life is upon me. My dad died 9 years ago and yet all around me life has resumed it's normal beat. Does the earth notice the loss of something great? Do the rocks cry out--"I know your pain?" Do the birds chirp--"I hear your sorrow?" Do you see me and know I've lost someone too?

Normality is the shock of suffering that is hardest to reconcile. How do we continue to live life functionally without the love we lost? Doesn't it somehow seem wrong or disloyal to be happy? But I am happy, so what's wrong with me? Do you sense my inner struggle? Do you see how the healing that I might desperately need to move on might also erase some memories. I don't want to forget him but I fear that I am. Is part of healing, forgetting? My mind's eye can no longer conjure up the sound of his voice or the smile of his mouth. My memories have gone fuzzy. Does that make my grief less significant? Death is so complex. It's not a simple matter of moving on.

What would it be like to share on more day, one more phone call, or one more hug with my dad? Would he appear around the corner, through the woods, or when I least expect it? No matter what I got I'd always want more.

Death has left me profoundly confused and partially broken. How can one part of me be sad by the fact that I've moved beyond my grief and the other part of me be proud & grateful by how far you've brought me? Is this my life? What a paradox! Can there be anything more perplexing than moving on after loss? Love and suffering must go hand in hand. You cannot experience one without experiencing the other.

I can say that I am glad to have had my dad for a while than to never have had him at all. Going through grief made me stronger and softer at the same time. Being daily refined by fire is hard but I enjoy the end result. God, you captured my fatherless heart and made me happy again. You gave my soul something I thought I had lost---joy. Even if I don't know what loss is suppose to look like, I do know that you are my Father. And your sweet words curl around my brokenness saying---daughter.

I'm No Lance Armstrong!

2010-04-22T13:19:00.000-07:00

People have asked me before, "Do you jog" and I reply, "Yes, but only if I'm in danger." There's just something about jogging that brings flashes of 7th grade P.E. to the forefront of my brain. Wasn't there something like the "Presidential Fitness Test" that they made everybody do? Gag! I would rather forget 7th grade all together, wouldn't you? Sorry, I digressed. I enjoy biking and the occasional aerobic workout. There's a little 6 mile route around my neighborhood that I bike most days while jamming away on my Ipod. Chad asked me the other day if I would like to bike a different route that was a little longer. We could have our own "Tour de France" he said. Sure I replied. So this morning we set out at 6:00 am for the "Tour de College Station." Now, I can normally bike my regular route pretty easily but this new route was killer. I was so bummed! Disappointment coursed through my burning quads and hamstrings. Why can't I do this? I thought I was in better shape. Chad seemed to realize my dismay as he waited for me to crest the hill he had past 5 minutes before. Gasping for air once I caught up with him, he insightfully said, "This wasn't easy for you because the path wasn't familiar." Wow! Who knew Chad could be so profound at 6:30 in the morning? Sucking wind the rest of the way, I had time to contemplate his words and how true they were. Familiar paths are easier. Unfamiliar ones aren't. Hobbling onto the driveway at the end of the ride I said, "Do you think that's why older people seem to be more at peace? Because they have experienced life's journey and their paths have been made known to them? Are their lives finally familiar? Will our paths one day be familiar too?" He casually replied, "I don't know. I guess we'll have to wait and find out together. It will be our "Tour de Life."

Processional Ponderings

2010-04-22T12:03:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting in the carpool line or what I affectionally call "the parade of mini-vans" waiting to pick up Colton from school. Here are some things I've come to realize while I wait.

#1. I will be making school lunches for the rest of my life.

#2. I will have the vehicle in front of me bumper sticker's and license plate memorized by the end of the year.

#3. Some moms just park and walk in to get there kids. Instant gratification has ruined me and made me partial to the drive-thru mentality.

#4. There are moms in workout clothes but they look way too cute to have just worked out. Are they wearing workout clothes to give the appearance they've just worked out? I thought I was the only one that did that!

#5. Colton acts happy to see me every time I pick him up. When will this no longer be the case?

#6. There's a difference between actually having your car in park and just thinking it's in park.

#7. Sunglasses don't completely hide the fact that I haven't showered or put on makeup today.

#8. When I ask my three year old what he did at school today his response is, "Nothing. We just sat there and looked at each other." Why do I feel like this will be his response for the next 15 years?

Brotherly Love

2010-04-21T14:17:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been forced to live with someone not of your choosing? I did. I was forced to live with my brother and sister for 17 years. I was, or I guess I still am, the youngest of three. Where do you fall in the sibling line-up? Are you the oldest or youngest? Are you an only child or do you suffer from middle-child syndrome? How much do you think our siblings or lack of siblings play into our lives? Being the youngest, I don't remember life without my brother or sister. They have definitely had and impact on my life. Both good and bad. I'm sure I've had an impact on their lives too, or at least, I hope I have. Siblings--it's such a peculiar dynamic. It's a relationship with another person that you maybe wouldn't have if they weren't related to you. Crazy, right? Think about your siblings for a minute. How are you the same? How are you different? What's amazing to me is that different personalities, physical traits, abilities, and talents come from the same mother and father. I don't even look like my siblings, do you? So I guess the real question is with all the differences and forced living situations, how do we learn to love our sibling? When I was young, I knew I loved my brother and sister but I didn't know why. It was a love that was just there because of the relational proximity. There have been many setbacks, trials, and tears with my siblings. We have had our share of heartache and I didn't always feel like I loved them. Through it all, there is still an unexplainable bond that we share. I know we've never discussed it; it's always been understood. We share a bond that no other three people on earth will ever share. So do you with your siblings! Now 30 years later, I can say that I love my brother and sister but not because they are my brother and sister. I love them for who they are. I hope that my boys will have an understood, unexplainable bond as well. A bond of brotherly love but not because they are brothers. Hopefully, over time they choose to love each other. Not because they have to but because they want to.

The Crouton Preference

2010-04-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

My kids have been known to eat some pretty random things. What about your kids? My kids will eat food that I think, (but don't know for sure) may not be the normal food most 2 & 3 year olds consume. I know growing up you couldn't get me to eat things like olives, pickles, raw onions, nuts, raisins or chinese food. However, my kids love these foods. (I'm happy to report that my taste buds have improved with age) When I think of kid foods though, I think of peanut butter & jelly, macaroni & cheese, pizza and chicken nuggets. Which my kids like all of those foods too. Honestly, who doesn't, right? But my boys do have an unusual fetish. They love croutons. Not on a salad but as a stand alone food item. But they won't eat just any croutons. We have combed the greater Bryan College station area sampling an array of croutons at many fine eating establishments. Just an FYI, according to the Chmelar boy's restaurant guide, Chili's croutons are too hard, Olive Garden's are too spicy, and Red Lobster's have too much "green stuff." Who knew I was raising such crouton snobs? Now, I'm not opposed to croutons. I like them just as much the next person. But like most normal folks, I eat them on a salad. So does Chad. I would never sit around on the couch, gobbling down a large bowl of croutons while watching Clifford the Big Red Dog. (I would sit on the couch with a enormous bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos while watching Lost though!) I can tell you have waited with baited breath for me to unveil the town's best crouton location. So without further ado, if you are looking to satisfy that inner crouton craving, head on over to CiCi's pizza.

Did Jesus Die for Julie New?

2010-04-21T12:23:00.000-07:00

My curious Colton asked me the other day why Jesus loves us? O man! Why do I never feel prepared for these questions? It's not like I don't know why He loves us but how do I explain it so my 3 year old understands? I gave a quick mental "shout out" to God for help and went on to somewhat coherently tell him why. We got to the part about Jesus dying on the cross and I told him Jesus died for everyone. He paused and looked a little puzzled. These are the moments when you really regret not studying up on Bible theology more. Do you know what I mean? He said, "Well, who all did Jesus die for?" Colton is the type of kid that if you meet him once he'll remember your name forever. He knows most of the names of Chad's coworkers and all of the names of kids at his school. Even kids that aren't in his class. Could my son be any more of a social butterfly? Realizing this I started to name family members, friends and anyone I could think of that he might know. I was trying to give him a better visual of the word "everyone." It was a pretty exhaustive list. He walks away and I'm thinking his 3 year old attention span must be kicking in. Five minutes later he comes back into the room and says, "Mom, I'm sad." Why I asked. "Because Jesus didn't die for Julie New." O great! I knew I would leave off a name of someone he remembered. I should have just read him the entire telephone directory. It took some convincing but I was finally able to assure him that Jesus did in fact die for Julie New too, I just forgot to mention her the first time. (Julie New is one of Chad's coworkers and also the mom of one of my best friends) I had no idea that he would take my original list so seriously. According to him no names can be added. If you weren't on the original verbal documented conversation had that day, you're basically, well......out of luck.

Once again God has used my children to teach me an important lesson. Could God's message be any more clearer to us? Could you make a list of everyone you know and say whether or not they know Jesus loves them and died for them? I can't even remember the last time I told anybody that. (besides my kids) Can you? You would tell someone if their hair was on fire, right? So why can't we do this simple little thing called sharing God's love? Are we scared, ashamed, disconnected, or just plain lazy and leave it to other people to do? It's hard, I know, and definitely awkward, but so very important. Will you do it? Will you ask everyone you know if they know Jesus died for them and loves them? I'll start right now. Jesus loves you and he died for you. If you didn't know that before and you want to know more, just ask me and I'll tell you. Better yet, Colton might tell you and I'll make sure he adds your name to his "list."

Hagin's Hunt

2010-04-20T14:19:00.000-07:00

Are you having trouble finding what you're looking for?

Sometimes God's blessings are right in front of us!

"Look to the Lord and His strength; seek His face always."

Psalm 105:4

New York New York

2010-03-25T13:27:00.000-07:00

Chad and I went to New York this past December. The city moves with a pulsing vibe seldom seen elsewhere. Walking down the streets grants you a power of significance. You feel as though you’ve arrived at the precipice of importance and that every step you take matters. Although, in New York, no one really cares where you go. The city offers a million different directions alongside a million different choices. Busy, busy, busy. I barely have time to look up and breathe in the grandeur of tall buildings, beautiful architecture, amazing shops, ten thousand scents, and shimmering glittery lights. I just melted into the masses. I’ve never felt more of a lonely dichotomy then in New York City. You are surrounded by loads of people yet no one knows you. You are a number, a miniscule person to bump into or pass over. Being anonymous is simple if that’s what you are going for. Now, I like being alone at times. I love invisibility. But if I want to experience loneliness I’d rather do it alone. Not in the middle of a huge throbbing city. I prefer the wild open spaces as opposed to the wild closed spaces. Isn’t it ironic that the city in which you may feel the most alone is also the city that people from around the world look forward to coming to? For years people have been migrating to America and enter through NYC. The city speaks of destiny, dreams, freedom and most of all hope. How could one city evoke such an array of emotions?

Mommy Motto

2010-03-25T13:19:00.000-07:00

I found this quote a few weeks ago and I thought it was profound enough to share. I believe it offers some good insight. As parents, shouldn't this all be our motto?

If I had my child to raise over again

I'd build self-esteem first and the house later

I'd finger paint more and point the finger less

I would do less correcting and more connecting

I'd take my eyes off my watch and watch with my eyes

I would care to know less and know to care more

I'd take more hikes and fly more kites

I'd stop playing serious and seriously play

I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars

I'd do more hugging and less tugging

I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often

I would be firm less often and affirm much more

I'd model less about the love of power

And more about the power of love.

–Diane Loomans

Two Truths and No Lies

2010-03-25T12:28:00.000-07:00

My children reveal my flaws to me often. Not directly but indirectly. Having kids has made me much more aware of my relationship with God. How about you? Frequently the parallels of how God must view us as children and how I view my own children is blown up in my face. It's an interesting and sometimes frustrating phenomenon. Has this ever happened to you? My kids will behave or not behave a certain way and I think to myself, "Wow, do I do this to God?" Two examples of this have happened to me recently.

Here's the first one. It's 2:00 am and I'm fast asleep in bed. All of a sudden I hear this whisper in my ear saying, "Hey mom, what did you want?" Bleary eyed, I look up to see Colton standing by my bed. I groggily replied, "What?" He said, "What did you want me to do?" I answered "I don't want you to do anything. Go back to bed baby." The next morning I asked him why he came in my room. He said, "Because you called my name." I told him that I didn't call his name, that I was sleeping. He said, "I heard you call my name so I just came into your room to see what you wanted." I told him, "Sweetheart, you must have been dreaming because I didn't call your name." What struck me most about this whole scenario is how faithful Colton was to get up out of bed to see what I wanted. He honestly thought he heard me call for him, so he obeyed me at 2:00 o'clock in the morning. It reminded me of the verse in the Bible that says, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." Do we listen to the voice of God? I'm not sure I even know what it sounds like, do you? Would we respond if he called us at 2:00 am?

The second story involves both of the boys. Colton and Hagin were supposed to be napping one day and I heard noise coming from their room. Opening the door I found both of them playing on the floor with toys. Without a word, they scrambled up to their beds, laid down under the covers and closed their eyes. They pretended like I didn't just witness them disobeying me. I can't tell you how many times this has occurred. Did they not see me? Did they think that I am oblivious to their indiscretions? Isn't it ironic how often we do the same thing to God? We scurry underneath our covers and act like he isn't watching us sin.

You Know It's Bad When...

2010-03-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

1. You know it's bad when you have to dust the mop before you use it.

2. You know it's bad when you realize you are talking in third person to another adult.

3. You know it's bad when you ask your husband if he needs to potty.

4. You know it's bad when your kids know you are going somewhere because you've put on makeup and earrings.

5. You know it's bad when your child asks you why Jesus rose from the dead and you don't have a good explanation.

6. You know it's bad when the employees of CiCi's Pizza know you by first name.

7. You know it's bad when your child asks how you would be able to cook if you didn't have a microwave?

Tattle Tale

2010-02-24T12:56:00.000-08:00

Growing up as the youngest of three siblings, I had my fair share of being tattled on. How about you? If I had a dollar for every time I heard "I'm telling" come from my sister's mouth when we were young, I'd be a millionaire by now. I realize it's a right of passage for all children but I have a strong aversion to tattling. As most parents know tattling has its pros and cons. On the one hand you want to know when your child is about to jump off the roof but on the other hand you are slightly annoyed that your other child is ratting them out. Do you know what I'm talking about? Where is that fine line? So today I had reached my quota of "He hit me with a car" and "He touched me with a Lego" and "He won't share his goldfish" and "He jumped on my head." I told Colton, "Stop the tattling! Do not come whining to me about anything unless you are bleeding or your head has fallen off!" Five minutes later I hear Colton yell, "Mom, Hagin pushed me and my head cracked open and fell off." Just so you know neither of those two things happened. It's funny that even as adults we still tattle on each other. Only now it's called gossiping.

Greatest Thing of All

2010-02-24T10:02:00.000-08:00

Why did God tell us to love everyone? Colton said to me the other day, "I love everyone that loves me." I laughed but then I got to thinking about his statement. Why do we only love the people who love us? I know it's much easier to ignore the "love everybody" command and simply love the people that love us. I wonder why it matters so much to God for us to love everyone. Maybe for the same reason that deep down, we want everyone we meet to love us too? But I guess this poses the bigger question. Of faith, hope, and love, why is love the greatest? Love may be the greatest but I think it might also be the hardest. I can have faith in someone, I can hope for someone...but love everyone? There are people I've met in my life that I don't even like, let alone love. What was God smoking...I mean, thinking? What kind of love do we show somebody who doesn't love us? In my years of life I've learned this, forgiving people is hard but loving those whom you have forgiven is even more difficult. You know what I'm saying? This is going to sound totally cliche' and I'm not big on Christian cliches'. I've found it's tough to hate people you are praying for. Pray that God would help you love them. (See cliche' right, but so true) I still don't love everybody...yet! God is always working on me. So now I ask you, do you have what it takes to love the unloveable?

Interesting Tidbits

2010-02-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

What You May Not Know About Me:

1. I was robbed of a spelling bee victory in my 2nd grade class because I misspelled the word "pole." I spelled it "Pohl" Later in 7th grade I met a girl with the last name "Pohl" and it is pronounced "Pole." Back then I was obviously ahead of my time in spelling! Don't you think? Although, I must admit that now, I rely completely on spell check so as to not seem illiterate.

2. The first time I met my husband Chad, I saw his last name (Chmelar) engraved on his Bible. I felt so bad for him because I thought it was misspelled. I said to myself "Poor guy, they messed up his Bible." But the joke was on me, because it wasn't misspelled. His last name is now my last name and it is engraved on my Bible too!

3. Back when I was growing up it was really popular for churches to have their denominations in the title of their church. I would often hear friends say, "I'm methodist, or I'm baptist, or I'm lutheran." Thinking that my denomination was in the title of my church, people were a little shocked when I told them my supposed denomination. I said, "I'm a memorial." The church I went to was Scofield Memorial Church.

4. My husband grew up in a small Czech community about 20 minutes from where we live now. One week after our wedding, we went to his hometown to have a traditional Czech wedding reception. Chad's grandparents had many friends that attended and I danced the polka with every man over the age of 75. We had a blast. Once the guest were gone, Chad and I opened some presents with our family. One of his grandparents friends had given us an unusual gift... a check for $12.50.

Chained to the Manger

2010-02-12T13:30:00.000-08:00

My in-laws display a nativity scene in their front yard every Christmas. There’s the manger, a bale of hay, the wooden cross, some reindeer (which I know aren’t part of the whole “original Bethlehem lay out” but they are there) and of course baby Jesus. Sounds normal for a small southern town in the Bible belt right? Well, every Christmas the baby Jesus gets stolen! Each time the baby is kidnapped my in-laws replace it with another one. Who knew there were Jesus-haters living right here in College Station? Sounds funny, but God only knows what the thieves are doing with the precious baby Jesus. Chad and I have suggested hidden video surveillance but it seems kind of pricey for seasonal yard art. This past Christmas my father-in-law developed a brilliant plan to ward off the misfits. Pulling up Christmas morning Chad and I stifled an astonishing laugh at the surprising sight before us. The baby Jesus had been chained to the manger! My eyes could not believe the sweet holy Messiah sporting fancy shackles around the waist. After getting over the initial shock and amusement the sobering thought struck me, “I chain Jesus to the manger all the time.” I put him in a little box, like a manger, and only take him out when I need him or when the major holidays hit. Does this happen to you too? You've heard the saying, Jesus is the reason for the season. So why do we make Jesus our reason but only for the season?

Oklahoma

2010-02-12T12:44:00.000-08:00

Colton and I were putting together a puzzle of the USA. I was working with him to pronounce each state. He was trying so hard but one state proved to be more tricky for him to say and it came out..."Honk-a-homa." (Oklahoma) I decided to sing him the song "Oklahoma" from the musical. You've heard it right? "You're doing fine Oklahoma, Oklahoma, O.K.L.A.H.O.M.A." I thought it might help. I even danced a full on jig including "spirit fingers" and leg kicks while I sang it. He seemed to like it and can now pronounce Oklahoma perfectly. Hooked-on-Phonics has nothing on my inventive parenting skills!

Grow Up

2010-02-10T14:31:00.000-08:00

What did you want to be growing up…doctor, fireman, teacher, ballerina, nurse, football player, or astronaut? Is what you wanted to be then who you are today? When I was young all I wanted to be was a mom. I remember countless hours playing with my dolls. I childishly and gleefully thought, “I want babies, lots and lots of babies.” What did I know? My dolls never talked back. I would day dream about having children, what I would name them, what they would look like, how I would play with my kids all day long and supper would just magically appear on the table. Seriously, where did this ill-conceived notion come from? Now I wake up in the morning to whiny, hungry boys and question this whole parenthood thing. I’m longing for the day to pee without a curious audience. About once a month, I’d like to curl up in a vegetated state and chant NO-STOP-BE QUIET, since this is about the extent of my vocabulary. Days upon days of endless whining, crying, feeding, correcting, and wiping has corrupted my brainpower. I don’t know if my mind will ever fire on all cylinders again. Do you know what I mean? When I get a moment alone all I want to do is bust a “William Wallace” move from the movie Braveheart and yell, “FREEDOM” to the top of my lungs. What kind of parent am I? This poses the question, who I am? What is this parenting role really suppose to look like? Do you know? Is there a way to compartmentalize our jobs, our marriage, our friendships, our family, and be parents? When parenting is a 24/7 job how do we not lose our identity? If we lose ourselves now what person will we find once the kids are gone? Will the real “me” be waiting where I left her? Do you sense the paradox? Can our childhood dreams coexist with our reality? Are you what you wanted to be?

Like Father Like Son

2010-01-15T13:03:00.000-08:00

The following three stories have made my sports-loving husband proud!

Colton gets in the car and says "Mom, I got in trouble today at school." Those are words you never want to hear, right? The following conversation ensued:

Mom: What happened?

Colton: I tackled a boy on the playground.

Mom: Why did you tackle him?

Colton: Because I wanted to play.

Mom: Did he get hurt?

Colton: No, but he cried.

Mom: What did the teacher say?

Colton: She said not to push. But mom I wasn't pushing, I was tackling!

Yesterday, Colton walks up and says he hit his chest after he jumped off a shelf and landed on the footboard of Hagin's bed. I asked him if he was okay. Excitedly he answered "I'm okay, but do you think I'll get a bruise?"

Colton was strumming his toy guitar and singing into a microphone. Playfully, I asked him if he is going to be in a band. "A band, like at the football game?" he asks. "Sure" I reply.

"No mom, I'm going to play football."

Pick a Winner

2010-01-15T11:56:00.000-08:00

Responding to some screams I heard coming from the boys room the other day I happened upon an unusual scenario. Go figure! Do your kids like to be helpful? My kids love to help with everything. At times some of the help is a little too invasive of my personal space but I really appreciate the gesture. So the predicament I walk into poses the question, is there such a thing as being too helpful? Picture this with me: In one arm Colton has Hagin's head in a choke hold on the floor. Amid squeals of disdain, Colton's pointer finger is digging around in Hagin's nose. I promptly assess the scene and put an end to it. As always, Colton is quick with a justifiable explanation. "Mom, Hagin had a booger in his nose and I was trying to get it out for him. I want to be helpful." I don't know who said it but I guess the saying really is true,"You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's noses...err brother's nose in this case."

The New Trinity

2010-01-15T11:31:00.000-08:00

I miss my dad a lot. Especially whenever I think about my kids never knowing him. My dad, Bill, passed away almost 9 years ago and I have often wondered what he would have been like as a grandpa. I've showed the boys pictures of my dad and they like to talk about their "Papa Bill" and how he is in heaven with God. Colton will often refer to heaven as the place that God, Jesus, and Papa Bill live. He wants to know if they are up in the sky? I want to know that too, don't you? Anyways, as we were driving one day Colton told me that God made the ponds, Jesus made the oceans, and then he got quiet. After a minute of quiet contemplation, he asked, "Mom, what did Papa Bill make?" According to Colton there's a new trinity in town and it looks like the Holy Spirit just got knocked out of the godhead by Papa Bill.

(This photo is of my dad feeding my brother circa 1974! Note the groovy sideburns.)

Frozen in Time

2010-01-14T14:54:00.001-08:00

Colton stood by my bed with his cute bad morning-breath and woke me by saying Hagin is crying. Sleepily I ask, “Why is Hagin crying?” “His feet are cold, Mommy.” Now it has been really cold here in Texas lately. The kids haven’t been able to play outside in over a week. Cabin fever has set in and the kids aren’t the only ones bouncing off the walls. But moving on, this particular morning was a bone freezing 25 degrees. I start to tell Colton to give Hagin some socks but Colton interrupts and says, “His feet are cold because he’s in the grass.” I’m wide-awake now. I throw on my pink “wonder-mom robe, not bothering with shoes and hurry to the backyard. My eyes focus on my two-year old baby standing barefoot and frozen by the back gate. Crying and clutching his stuffed puppy he shivers frantically. Sprinting across the lawn pain needles of cold grass scrap across my feet. I pay it no mind because I’m focused…I’m out to rescue my child. His feet and hands are like little icebergs. Wrapped in blankets and my arms Hagin is now safe and warming up inside. I vacillate between being annoyed and immensely happy. Colton gives me his blow-by-blow version, “Mom, I told Hagin not to go outside. I stood on the porch and told him to come back in. He didn’t obey me. I was trying to be a hero.” I’ve told the boys a million times to not go outside because it’s too cold. Why didn’t they just listen? Not listening: one of the most frustrating aspects of parenting, right? The parallels of our relationship with our kids and our relationship with God are so intricately woven. He tells us no all the time but we don't listen. Instead, we brave the cold unknowns on our own and then become frozen in the mess we’ve made. Are you frozen right now?

Highlight Reel of 09'

2010-01-05T13:25:00.000-08:00

Below is a compilation of the funny things the boys said and did in 2009!

1. Pulling into the drive thru at McDonald's Colton poses this question, "Is there ham in my hamburger." I told him everybody wonders what's really in a hamburger from McDonalds.

2. During a Christmas shopping errand Colton saw a window display of a mannequin with no head, arms, or lower body. Unfortunately this mannequin did have one important asset that Colton was quick to point out. "Hey Dad, is that a boob?"

3. Instead of singing "The itsy bitty spider" Colton sings, "The bitsy biddie spider."

4. Hagin was without adult supervision for a moment and shoved golf balls into the muffler of my father-in-laws truck. Later when my father-in-law started the truck golf balls shot out the exhaust pipe!

5. Hagin knows how to say yes but will never say it. He prefers to say "Humph" instead. Here is how a normal conversation with Hagin goes, "Do you want some juice?" Hagin answers, "Humph juice" or "Do you want a cracker?" Hagin answers, "Humph cracker" or if it's a really excited" yes" it's like this, "Do you want to play outside" Hagin answers, "HUMPHHHHHH outside."

6. I asked Colton what he wanted to be when he grows up. His answer was, "The big bad wolf."

7. Colton told me last week, "Daddy is the hero that kills bugs." So true so true.

8. I took the boys to a store so they could paint things for Chad for Christmas. Colton painted a truck green and Hagin painted a football black. When I asked Colton what words he wanted to write on his truck to say to Daddy his response was of course not what I expected. I thought something like, "I love you" or #1 dad, but no, Colton said, "Let's write I'm sorry."

9. Colton came crying to us one night and said something bit his finger. I asked him, "What bit your finger? He sadly exclaimed, "My teeth."

10. Coming home from preschool one day Colton told me that his teacher had baby Jesus in her tummy. I was surprised that God decided to do another immaculate conception.

11. Hagin hasn't quiet mastered the art of counting correctly. Instead of 1, 2, 3, 4, everything he counts is, "3,4,3,4,3,4,3,4,3,4,3,4."

12. At a Baylor football game, Colton's aim went a little off in the men's restroom. Instead of hitting the toilet, his pee landed on the shoe of the man at the next urinal.

Intertwined

2010-01-05T13:12:00.000-08:00

The source of this poem came about one day as I was holding Chad's hand. I got to thinking about how reassuring it is to have the same hand to hold throughout life. It's amazing to me the journey a relationship can take. How in the beginning, holding hands is new and electric and then over the years holding hands turns into something familiar, solid, and comforting. That's what this poem is trying to say. Enjoy!

The dew of youth

Flows fresh through our veins

Soaking new love

Like gentle spring rains

Awakened by awareness

Moonbeams touch turn to day

Breathless from breathing

The sun’s brilliant array

Imprinting two hearts

Defines the nature of our skin

Tracing our meshed horizon’s

To see where each begins

Comfort with meaning

Renews the bliss of old

Faithfulness is a virtue

Hidden by a pot of gold

Mysteries of contentment

Align with strands of time

The tree whose roots grow deep

Intertwining your hand in mine

by Joy Chmelar 1/27/09

(as with all our photos, Chad took the picture of this tree on Enchanted Rock, Fredericksburg Texas)

Sweet Dreams

2010-01-05T13:05:00.000-08:00

I wrote this poem last year for a good friend who had lost her child. It's entitled "Sweet Dreams"

Sleeping child

Safe from harm

Tucked tonight in Jesus’ arm

Beloved one

Peace your way

For our Lord vigils you where you lay

Sweet rest love

For in your care

A host assembles your name in prayer

My precious babe

Near you angels abide

Watchful till the mornings tide

Darling mine

Now sweet breath you breathe

For in my heart you’ll always be

by Joy Chmelar 2/20/09

The Egg and I

2009-11-17T13:07:00.000-08:00

Scrambled, sunny-side-up or over-easy?? Hagin cracked open a whole 18 count carton of eggs at 6:30 in the morning. He then tried to wipe it up with a towel to hide the evidence but we caught him because Colton tattled. Notice the egg oozing its way underneath the fridge. Just an FYI, egg is sticky to clean up.

Realizations

2009-11-03T13:18:00.000-08:00

Is it better to be older or younger, wiser or innocent? Is it better to be a clean slate or dogged ear notebook? Turning 30 brought on the astonishing and obvious realization that 3 decades of my life have come and gone. As a young girl growing up I remember thinking 30 was so old. Didn't you? Now that I’m here I realize 30 is young and 90 is old. I would never want to be a teenager again but in some ways it would be nice to go back. Knowing what I know now I wonder if it would be easier? Maybe so….maybe not. If anything it would be great to look 17 again. Flat stomach, small waist, and youthful skin have been taken over by stretch marks, jiggling cellulite, and left over baby belly. But I have the feeling the tall tale signs of my body give the air a journey has taken place. With each laugh line, sag, and dimple of fat a story can be told. I like to think of my 3 decades as a road map. Each stop along the way, whether good or bad, has made me into who I am. I've learned that wisdom and age don’t always come hand in hand but what they have in common is time. Time changes parts of you but some parts remain the same. Time heals certain wounds and leaves others gaping. Time allows you to forget and remember. Time moves too fast and too slow. Time can be your enemy or your friend. Which is it for you?

My First Date with George Strait

2009-10-21T19:41:00.000-07:00

Why are doctor’s offices so cold? As if you really needed another reason to shiver nervously. Why do they make your appointment for a certain time but make you wait 20 minutes before they call your name? If you wanted my appointment twenty minutes later, then you should have made my appointment 20 minutes later. But all pessimism aside, I see my yearly female visit as a "mini getaway" from the kids. I actually really like my doctor. He’s a nice older man, very patient, and answers all my “I have no medical degree” questions. Now his nurse, she’s another story. That lady, God bless her soul, must line her underwear every morning with sticker burrs. I’ve never once seen her speak nicely to anyone, not even the doctor, and she sure as heck, hasn’t cracked a smile in all her 60 plus years. I’m guessing the doctor keeps her around for her dependability because it isn’t for her beside manner. Finally, after my goose bumps have made my leg hairs grow an inch, my name is called. I grab my purse, walk across the lobby on frozen limbs and enter his office. Nurse Meanie briskly tells me to pee in a cup and change into “this” when I come back. The “this” she is referring to happens to be nothing more than flimsy recycled paper sacks like the grocery stores use to have. Should I be thankful that they are being so eco friendly? So after peeing in a cup, which is tricky to say the least, I change into my "save the planet gown" and lay on the table to wait for the doctor. I gaze at the ceiling and my eyes land on a poster of George Strait smiling right back at me. I had no idea George would be attending my yearly female physical. What a surprise! The doctor comes in and starts his examination but I can't help but feel uncomfortable knowing that George can see me too. His smile seems to say that making it to Amarillo by morning is not all that he has on his mind.

Puddle Jumper

2009-10-21T14:11:00.001-07:00

Colton jumped into a huge rain puddle on the way to dinner the other night. He was completely drenched and I had to change his clothes. My first inclination was to scold him for such foolishness. But somehow I bit my tongue and let him enjoy the moment. While watching my son soak himself to the bone I was struck by the fact that I don't jump in puddles of water anymore. Do you? What's the first thing you do when you see a big puddle? I step over it, around it, I do anything to avoid getting wet. Large puddles of water equal a major inconvenience in my path. Why do I do that? What holds us back from getting our feet wet? Is it because we are adults now? I feel as though I've grown older but not more fun. Does fun not grow with age? Where did we lose our child-like wonder? Did our lives get hard, busy, and mature or did we become bitter, hurt, overwhelmed, depressed, disappointed, forgotten.....lost? What puddles along life's journey are you avoiding? How often are you robbing yourself of joy? Take a chance. Hop in a puddle the next time it rains. I dare you!

Hagin's Hunger Pains

2009-10-19T20:38:00.000-07:00

Scrounging around for snacks one morning Hagin found a tasty treat and gnawed on this stick of butter! Yummy!

Conversations with Colton

2009-10-19T20:24:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt of random conversations and encounters that I have had with Colton.

Colton asked loudly the other day if the lady behind the checkout counter at Barnes and Noble was a girl or not.
Colton was doing a big tractor puzzle with my mom. About half way through my mom told Colton, “Look we’re making progress.” Colton response is matter of fact, “No, we’re making a tractor puzzle, not progress.”
We were on our way to a football game and Colton was going to see his great-aunt Lynne at the game. When asked if he knew who Aunt Lynne was he exclaimed, “Yes, she’s God.”
We painted some bunk beds for the boys. Colton can’t quite pronounce the word "bunk" and so he calls them “bonk beds.” (Seems appropriate since there is more bonking then bunking going on)
Driving past some farms on a back road the other day, Colton proclaimed, “I like cows because they moo.” (Good enough reason I guess)
We found a stray dog wandering around our neighborhood. Colton wanted to keep it and I asked him, “Well what would you name him.” He said, “Mine.”
Isn’t it curious how boys and girls are so noticeably different even from a young age? My boys never ask me if I like their shirt or if their hair is pretty. My boys ask questions like, “Am I strong or do I jump high?”
Colton came running up to me and said “Mom, look at this big dirty booger. It was in my nose.” (He then wiped it on the floor before I could stop him)
The first time Colton pooped in the potty his excitedly shouted, “That was awesome.”
Leaving church one day Colton said, “Mom, a boy in my class scratched me. He had lots of really big fingers.”
Innocently and coincidently, Colton told me he wanted more brothers one week after my husband had his vasectomy.
Curious Colton asked me one day if I had a penis. I told him, “No, I am a girl and girls don’t have a penis.” He then explained, “Well, when you get to be a big boy like me, then you will have a penis Mommy.”
Colton tells me that one day he will be a big man and shave his beard and wear deodorant just like Daddy. (Such cute and lofty things to aspire to)
Explaining how we would go to heaven one day and be with Jesus, Colton said nonchalantly “I’m not going to heaven. I’m just going to stay at home.”
Picking Colton up from his first day of preschool I asked him if he made any friends. Happily he said, “Yes, I hit a boy with my head.” I said, we don’t hit people. Colton replied, “No Mom, he really liked it.”
Hugging Colton one night I said, “I love you baby.” Indignant he replied, “I’m not a baby. I’m a big man.”

Food Wars

2009-10-13T13:19:00.000-07:00

If I got paid for every time I said things like "take a bite" or "swallow your food now" I would be the richest stay at home mom ever! Meal time can be a war zone around our house. Crying, loud chewing, singing, spills, and threats echo across the table more often then pleasant conversation. Try as I might there are certain foods my kids just won't eat. Do you know the foods I'm talking about? Do you feel my food pains? For a mind numbing 6 months Hagin would only eat five things and those five things were as follows: yogurt, applesauce, pizza, chips, and crackers. Lunch time arrived one day and to my horror all I had of the "5 staples" were chips. I knew I would win the "naughty nutrition award" if I let my kid only eat Cheetos. So I made him a teeny-tiny peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Who doesn't like a PB&J? Armed with a bag of Cheetos as an incentive I set off to battle the strong stubborn will of a one year old. I laid down the ground rules, for each bite of sandwich he took he could have one chip. Seems fair right? Hagin wasn't thrilled with the arrangement but he conceded. With a defiant gleam in his eye he took each bite of sandwich that I laid on his plate. Once I saw the bite go in his mouth, I retrieved a chip from the bag and gave it to him. Things were going so well. I was really proud of myself, thinking I had stumbled upon a modern day miracle. Lunch was over and Hagin was licking the cheesy remnants of Cheetos from his fingers. Pulling him out of his highchair I discovered every single bite of PB&J hidden behind his back. How in the world did he do this?

Nice Aim

2009-10-06T14:12:00.000-07:00

Have you ever used a public restroom and felt like you needed to scrub every pore of your body once you were done? I think just merely breathing the polluted molecules of a gas station lavatory might give me the Ebola virus instantly. (And I don't even know what the Ebola virus is.) Did you know peeing in a urinal is an art form. I didn't know this naturally since I've never used a urinal but evidently there seems to be some skill involved. Fortunately for me, my husband is the lucky one who gets to help Colton master the urinal or "wall of wonder" as Colton calls it. On our road trip to Colorado this summer every small podunk metropolis held endless opportunities for Colton to practice. Imagine a restroom so nasty that you forgo washing your hands because not washing them actually seems more sanitary. Come on--admit it---we've all done it! Unfortunately, this cesspool of a restroom was the only one for the next 50 miles and Colton had to go. Have you been there? How can you tell a 3 year old to hold it till the next town? We couldn't. We were borrowing my in-laws vehicle and not about to test Colton's bladder control. I sacrificially offered to stay in the car, as Chad and Colton carefully walked into the restroom. They quickly discovered that the only stall was not an option. You know what I mean...NOT an option! On top of this there was no "squatty potty" or shorter urinal for Colton to use. That meant he was going to have to attempt to do his deed in the adult size urinal which you all know is not made for little people. Not wanting Colton to touch anything, Chad improvised and held him up in the air by one arm and one leg. Let me pause so you can visualize it. This was not the ideal posture for anyone and Chad was worried that a case of stage fright might be coming on for the little guy. Lucky for us, Colton saw it as an adventure. While dangling in mid air Colton somehow was able to aim and pull off the unbelievable.

Abundant Life

2009-10-06T13:21:00.000-07:00

"I have come that they might have life and have it more abundantly." John 10:10

What do those words really mean? Before this weekend it was just another verse in the Bible that I would read and think “well that’s nice.” But how do I really apply that to my life? How do you live abundantly? How does God want us to live abundantly? Colton, my three year old offered me some deeply profound thoughts on the topic. Isn’t it amazing how God uses children to be our spiritual tools? I wish I could faithfully grasp the goodness of God again like a child. Don’t you? At the dinner table Colton asked again about Jesus and the blood. Seems to be a favorite topic of conversation for him. We told him about Jesus dying on the cross for us. He stated matter of factly that Jesus saved him. I said “you’re right.” Those moments are when you can mentally pat yourself on the back and say “Wow, he actually heard something I said.” Go me. Why did Jesus save you I asked? "So that we could play with Him", he exclaimed. I laughed at first and then he quickly corrected me saying he wasn’t being silly. I later pondered his words and thought "Wow, where did we lose out on the simplicity of salvation?" Why do we convolute the gospel with legalistic theology? It’s really so easy, even my three year old gets it. Jesus came to save us so we could enjoy life. But what does enjoying life look like? Do you take time to relish His creation, talk with friends, fellowship together, explore the wonder of His world? I know I don't do this often enough. We get carried away in all the “good things” we are suppose to do as Christians. But maybe He just wants us to quietly worship Him in our backyard gazing up at the stars He fashioned, or sit at a restaurant listening to a friend whose going through a hard time. I could even try reading the Bible to my kids---how's that for crazy out of the box parenting? Maybe kids understand God better then we adults do. They know that to live abundantly is to exuberantly embrace each day as if it’s the greatest day they’ve ever known. How will you start to live abundantly?

Glory

2009-10-02T13:10:00.000-07:00

Are you faithful to the faithless?

Are you good to the bad?

Do you laugh when I’m silly or

Sing when I’m sad?

Are you big enough to feel the measure of my pain?

Are there whispered words of lasting love in every drop of rain?

Does your glory only shine

When there’s only good in me?

Can you find the hidden valleys of what I’m meant to be?

What do I know of you?

Only what I’m told?

How do I find you after I’ve thrown away my soul?

Would you take back the cross if you knew how it would end?

Do you ever wish you hadn’t died for every single man?

Is my life just a miracle only I can see?

Do you measure up my parts and ever find me wanting?

Are you unafraid of my past to love me in the future?

Is there grace enough to touch the world lost in little pictures?

Am I worth more than a 100 thoughts a day?

Can your glory echo through broken dirty clay?

Why am I blinded to everyday majesty?

How I long to soak in your holy mystery

Hardship makes me stronger

But your mercy last much longer

Lost in all your glory

This will be my story

I’ve moved beyond the was

Into who I’m meant to be

Because only in your glory

Can I find me

No Shirt No Problem

2009-10-02T13:05:00.000-07:00

How many men do you know like to shop? None of the men in my family enjoy browsing the aisles for a good bargain unless we are at Home Depot. New shirts for Colton necessitated a trip to the store. As we headed to the clothing department Colton asked, "Why are we here?" The universal male dislike for shopping seems to start at a young age. "We need to buy you some shirts," I answered. Clearly exasperated Colton responds, "But why Mom? I already have a shirt on."

Run Run Hurry Hurry

2009-10-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

Why are we so busy? What do we really do with our time? How many activities should our kids be involved with? Where does this urgent rush of life come from? Do moms need to attend every single play date? Have we spent quality time with our kids today? Have we listened to what they are saying? I began asking myself those questions after having the following conversation with Colton. It left me feeling bemused, introspective, remorseful, and awakened with a desire to be more intentional with my kids.

Colton: "Do I have to go to school today?"

Mom/Joy: "No"

Colton: "Do I have to go to Bible Study today?"

Mom/Joy: "No"

Colton: "Am I on a vacation today?"

Jesus Loves Me Video

2009-09-25T12:29:00.000-07:00

Click play to watch Colton sing Jesus Loves Me to Hagin before going to bed! This is a moment that makes motherhood totally worth it. Not sure why Colton is closing his ear to his own singing but it's cute non the less. Turn up your volume and enjoy!

Free Falling

2009-09-22T19:23:00.001-07:00

As I stare at my son catapulting himself off the back of the couch and onto his brother down below, I wonder aloud, "What was I thinking birthing two children only 14 months apart?" The answer is, I wasn’t thinking but at this point I can't imagine it any other way. My sons climb on everything and I mean everything; a box of diapers can turn into a platform jumping frenzy in two seconds. I have found my children in the most unusual spots. Counter tops, dressers, changing tables, bookshelves, and wall mounted cabinets all call out to my kids, "Climb me now." Do you know what I'm talking about? Where do you find your kids? The boys were sitting on the bathroom sink working up a good soapy lather on their hands and arms while stuffing towels down the drain recently. Should I applaud their superior hygienic tendencies on that one? You might be asking, well where are you while this is going on? I’m just doing all the normal things that one does while staying at home with your children. I’m folding laundry, going to the bathroom, fixing dinner, vacuuming crumbs off the floor, cleaning dishes, or have fazed into “mommy la-la land.” Okay, well the last one rarely happens but the others are totally legit. My own homeland security is a tough job; hence why I need a room with padded walls and flooring. They could climb and jump to their hearts content and I wouldn't have to worry about broken appendages. How quickly do you think Home Depot can install this for me?

Male Species

2009-09-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

Boys should come with instructions manuals, don't you think? It would be so helpful since I'm not a boy and I don't know what's going on in their little minds. Why do they find wrestling, hitting, poking, and smashing each other so fascinating? I've even known some grown boys to enjoy those things too but I'm not naming any names! I'm not here to bash men, I love men...well I mean I love a man...my husband. I just need some enlightenment. Why would a guy rather hit their buddy in the arm instead of giving him a hug? You've seen it happen, right? My boys learned at the tender age of 2 that if I'm holding a football I need to be tackled----and I have been. Actually it kinda hurt. I wouldn't make it in the NFL. Plus I don't like being yelled at nor could I possibly wear tight pants on national television. But back to my point. My husband regales me with youthful stories of he and his friends smacking each other with rolled wet towels and shooting each with rubber bands. Not my idea of fun. Girls just want to braid hair, paint toenails, watch chick flicks and eat junk food. When I see one of my girlfriends I don't have an insane desire to punch her in the gut or put her in a headlock while rubbing my knuckles across her scalp. It just isn't in me to do that. But honestly, as much as I don't understand the differences between guys and girls, I can't imagine my husband telling his buddies, "Wow, you smell great or cute shirt." I guess God had a reason for making us different and I have to admit I like it.

Compromising Situations

2009-09-15T13:40:00.000-07:00

Sadly my tupperware drawer never returned to its former glory because after this photo was taken, the drawer broke. I guess it wasn't meant to stand in!

Apparently even my undergarments are not safe from being pilfered through. Although I don't think it's a good look for him.

This photo is proof of why purple permanent markers and letting your kids watch you put on makeup are a bad idea! Whoever came up with the idea of permanent makers didn't have children.

Jesus' Toys

2009-09-14T20:59:00.000-07:00

What child doesn't have issues with sharing their toys let alone cleaning them up? Sharing and cleaning: such a hard concepts for toddlers! Nevertheless, I strive to teach my boys the importance of picking up their toys. Colton posed the never ending question of "why" the other day when I asked him to clean up the explosion of lincoln logs on the floor. I told him, "Jesus blessed you with these toys and he wants you to take good care of them." With a quizzical look on his face he asked, "Are these Jesus' toys? Without really thinking my answer through I said "Yes, all that we have is from Jesus." Stunned and slightly annoyed to learn that the toys weren't actually his Colton then said, "Well Jesus needs to clean up his own toys!" Note to self and all other people trying to be way too Biblical with their children: if you want your kids to clean up don't ever tell them the toys aren't theirs. Lesson learned from the home front.

It's My Island

2009-09-14T20:12:00.000-07:00

Wish you where here? (See picture) I do. Are you tired of saying no all the time? Do moms even know other words? Discipline is necessary, essential, the essence of most moms but it makes me into this person that I don’t even like at times. I just feel mean----mean old mom. Have you smiled at your kids today? Have I? I don’t want my kids to remember me with an angry, how dare you look on my face. Why won’t my children obey me naturally? This is so hard! Do you want to send me to time out for whining? I’ve always wanted kids and held childhood fantasies about being a mom. I love my boys dearly; I would do anything for them. You’d do the same for your kids too right? I just would like to have a break from them…frequently. (Again see photo of my fantasy island) But then I feel bad like I’m missing out on precious moments of their life. Do you? I find myself constantly disciplining them for the same thing over and over and over again. I know you might be saying, “It’s called parenting, duh Joy.” But if my kids ask me “why” one more time I might bust my own brains out. But why, Mommy, why???? Do you feel the same way? When they were babies I use to long for them to talk now I long for them to win the gold medal in the “quiet -game.” Are you hearing what I'm saying? Now who's with me for a trip to an island where no one calls you Mommy or asks you "why".

Creation

2009-09-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

A single drop of rain

Rejuvenates the land

While every vibrant tree

Shades the Maker’s hand

The wind pulses with praise

As it melts into the earth

Circles of light spill the

Morning suns rebirth

Soar to the mountaintop

Watch the eagles glide

Feel the very breath of God

With victory at your side

Explore the world to find

Where the faithful flower grows

Sense the spirit’s touch

By the beauty of a rose

Peacefulness has come

As daylight says goodbye

The moon humbly takes its place

Perched in the midnight sky

Creation holds the secret

To our own life’s destiny

For everything you are

Is what God meant you to be

(While in Colorado this summer, I wrote this poem about God's creation.)

The Chasing

2009-09-14T19:45:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like you just can't shut your mind off? Although I know I'm forgiven for some many things in my life, sometimes my brain just won't let me forget. Does that ever happen to you? I wrote this poem earlier this year out of my frustration with the past.

Open wide from years of hurt

Preyed upon like sin’s dessert

Willing my soul to revert

Beauty for ashes and dirt to dirt

Silently watching as time strides

In with the new and out with the tide

Alluring reminders straddle beside

Devilish taunts with comments snide

Sadly my heart tends to rewind

Assessing the crimes I’ve left behind

Longing to rid my cluttered mind

Of these creatures I seem to find

Away from me you evil lie

Summoning power to even try

Cutting out my third blind eye

To block the darkness sneaking by

To all the stings of death before

I’m miffed to know that even more

Grief can return to settle scores

Spewing forth it’s lavish lore

This is all because you dare

To make my life seem so unfair

Miserable amounts of sadness bears

The pointless task of breathing air

No Jesus at Preschool

2009-09-10T07:13:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried to be super spiritually profound with your children only to have it backfire on you? Such is the situation I experienced a few days ago. Colton was feeling some separation anxiety about attending preschool the following day. As I laid next to him on his little bed I tried to explain to him how much fun school would be. What else am I going to say? I can't tell him that he'll be going to school for the next 15 years. He had some worries about being all alone, I told him that Mommy and Daddy won't be there but Jesus will be with you. Why did I think he could understand the "God is everywhere concept" at three when I can barely comprehend it? A panic stricken look came over his face. "Jesus will be with me at school tomorrow?", he asks. Thinking I was imparting such loving spiritual truths I said, "Yes, He will be there." He instantly started to cry and I was bewildered as to why Jesus being with him would be so bad. (Obviously invisible friends aren't a comfort to him yet.) Through his tears he said, "Jesus can't go to school with me." Why I asked. He replied, "Because if Jesus goes to school with me, who will stay in heaven with God?"

Hidden Treasures

2009-09-08T06:38:00.001-07:00

Are you familiar with the age old sayings, "Look both ways before you cross the street" or "Strike while the irons hot" or even "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?" I have a new one that needs to be added to the list. Joy's age old saying: "Before foolishly emptying your kids laundry basket into the washing machine, you should investigate the contents." You never know what fun surprise the kids might have snuck into the basket. Too bad this divine revelation word came to me a little too late. Peering into my washing machine after it finished its cycle, I realized there was a great deal of lent on the clothes. Thinking the dryer would help remove the lent, I plunged forward and threw all the clothes into the dryer. Do you know where I'm going with this? Imagine my horror once the dryer stopped. I discovered tiny shredded bits of hot fluffy diaper congealed all over my kid's clothes. Yuck! What's in your dryer?

Mothering for Dummies

2009-09-07T21:46:00.000-07:00

Being a mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Do you ever feel like you’re not even good at it? Some days I don’t even want to be a mom. Whoa, did I just say that? Now I have a super guilty complex because I know I love my children but some days they drive me crazy. It’s a weird mix of emotions that jumble around in my head. I long for them to know how much I love them and want to play with them, but I’ve got to accomplish some other things on my plate besides shoveling goldfish in their mouths. Do you know what I mean – like laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping? Most days I have to work hard just to make time to go to the bathroom. The list goes on and on. How do I tend to ALL their needs when I have needs of my own? Parenting feels like a dichotomy. You long to have children to teach them, raise them, love them, but then you turn on the cartoons and beg them to leave you alone while you try to sleep an extra 30 minutes. Is that bad? I don’t know. I know that I do it sometimes, but what message am I sending to them? If I’m available to them at every beck and call, then they might think my world revolves around them. But if I’m always scurrying them off to the next play date and endless errands what am I saying to them then? Isn’t it confusing? I’m sure that some would say it’s all about balance but no one actually tells you what that balance looks like. No one says, let your kids watch this amount of TV, and you spend this amount of hours playing with them, and here is the amount of time for your domestic duties. There’s no pie chart or Excel spreadsheet for this. Or is there? Where have I misplaced my Parenting for Dummies book because I literally feel like it was written for me? Do you think our kids realize that we don’t know what we’re doing?

Man Overdose

2009-09-04T12:47:00.000-07:00

I'm grossly outnumbered by men in my household. According to my boys, Daddy is the best thing next to snack time. Which, I have to agree, my husband is right up there with the snacks. But does it ever seem like your kids are quick to obey whatever Daddy says but when you say the same thing it doesn't have quite the same effect? Truly annoying isn't it? Picture this scenario: boys playing on the floor, in walks mom, "Boys please clean up your room." No response, no indication that you even exist. In walks dad, "Boys! Clean up your room now!" Immediate obedience follows. So frustrating right? But I'm not frustrated at my husband. He's an awesome dad and just backing me up. I'm irritated by my lack of testosterone authority. Besides doing steroids (which I'm against) how can I beef up my female supremacy? Not that I want to be a man! But seriously, I'd like to get immediate obedience out of my children. Don't you? Aretha Franklin must have had the same problem with her kids. Why else would she sing "RESPECT, find out what it means to me?" I would love for my children to find out what that means. In leaving for work one day, my sweet husband told Colton, "You need to be nice to your mom." Once Chad in all his souped up man glory left, Colton looked at me with his big blue eyes and impish grin. He said, "Mommy, Daddy wants me to be nice to you, but he's not here right now........"

Grocery Store Fiasco

2009-08-31T13:33:00.000-07:00

Who honestly likes going to the grocery store with young children? If you do, please take my kids with you the next time you go! Every trip to my local Kroger will inevitably entail my kids breaking something, saying something, or humiliating me in some small way. Visualize with me if you can! Your kids are buckled in the cute but germ infested car attached to the grocery cart. Your getting your upper body workout while pushing the cart, which is more like a boat. The kids squabble about whose turn it is to honk the horn. While grazing....I mean gazing at the chip isle, you ponder whether or not to come off your diet and buy your favorite bag of chips. (Side note: chips are my weakness. I love salt. I would shoot salt into my veins if I could.) Your in a hurry because the kids are close to the meltdown zone and one of them will want to potty before you reach the check out line. Are you with me yet? So that ideal setting is where I found myself one breezy fall morning. Maneuvering the "germ car" down the shopping isle I stop to contemplate my chip purchase. Not using my full on mommy alert, I neglect to see there is a 4 ft kiosk of bottled beer right next to me. What was I thinking? Colton starts yelling, "Hey look Mommy! Beer!" He keeps repeating this and I'm thinking he's just pointing to the beer further down the aisle. There's a guy restocking the chips right by me and he glares with annoyed condemnation. How many of those glances have you received? I get about one a day. After picking my chips of choice, I look down to see Colton has pulled multiple bottles of beer off the kiosk and is holding them in each hand while yelling, "Beer Mommy Beer." Great......just great. No wonder that guy was looking at me weird. I'm now wishing that grocery carts had straight jackets for toddlers---don't you?

I am Mom

2009-08-31T12:57:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wish that the only bottom you are wiping is your own? I've been there! Ever had your child randomly wrap his arms around your neck and say" I love you?" I've been there too. That's what makes motherhood so horribly good. Motherhood is a colorful collage of life experiences. Being a mom grants heart melting moments of pure bliss and insane moments of wanting to rip every eyelash out of your head and all the heads around you. Curve balls are thrown, even stinky ones, and we as moms, have to figure out how to handle them. How do you handle your chaos? Some days are better than others, right? Being all things to our kids is exhausting and I'm sure you feel the weight of it everyday. Being emotionally, physically, and mentally available 24/7 tests the limits of my sanity for sure. But at the same time, I feel it is an honor......being a mom....not the losing my sanity part. To know that I am capable of molding, shaping, and speaking into a life is astounding. Watching my children learn new things, achieve goals, and grow into a better person, and knowing that I was a part of it, is cause for a triumphant celebration. Well, and even the little things we do is cause for a celebration; like changing a diaper. What we do each day may not go down in history, or be recorded as our all time favorite thing, but it is part of the bigger picture. And the bigger picture is this, what we, as moms, do everyday for our kids, matters. Our being there for them now will speak volumes that will echo down the years of their lives. They can go forth into the world confident, well adjusted, and assured that they are loved. Is there anything more that you could want for your children? So, go change another dirty diaper but keep in mind how much you matter!

Look Mom-Two Hands

2009-08-28T19:55:00.000-07:00

Pulling into the fine eating establishment of Sonic the other day, I asked Colton (my three year old) if he wanted chicken strips or a grilled cheese sandwich. With sweet exasperation he said, "Both Mom. I have two hands." Never underestimate the power of a man's stomach at any age. Just a thoughtful tip to help you throughout your day!

The Pillow Factor

2009-08-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

Will someone tell me how I can clone myself? I need to cook dinner, do laundry, and play with the kids all at the same time? Have you ever held the dream of being the perfect domestic goddess? My domestic goddess dream would entail a clean house, dinner ready on the table, and perfect children. Maybe some of you have already obtained “stay at home mom nirvana” and if you have, you’ve got to tell me how you did it. My goal of domestic goddess flew out the window when I had two sons. Their sole purpose in life thus far is to ruin everything pretty in my house; hence the need for constant surveillance of my two angels. Out of necessity for sustenance I had to make dinner one night and I left the boys happily playing with their Legos in their room. Isn’t it amazing how you can tune out all the meltdown noise that kids create? While dinner was simmering away on the stove I realized I needed to tune back into reality. I could no longer hear the kids yelling and tattling. If they weren't screaming over who gets the green Legos, what were they doing? Visualize this: Hagin was shoving a big purple pillow into the toilet while Colton was standing on top of the toilet and using the pillow as peeing target practice. Do you think this is a once in a lifetime occurrence? No, no my friends. This kind of stuff happens everyday. And because this kind of stuff happens daily, it takes a strong toll on my sanity. Would it take a toll on yours? The mess is cleaned up, and the kids are tucked away in their room and threatened within inches of their lives. I make my way into my room and I grab a pillow (and no, it’s not the pee stained one I retrieved from the toilet). I run into my closet and fall prostrate on the floor and scream into my pillow. Who cares that I’m throwing a fit like my three year old? I know why he does it all the time, because it feels so good. Try it! As moms we spend so many hours tending to others, suppressing our feelings, or expressing them in inappropriate ways, and we lose out on having time for our own emotions. I feel like I can be a better mom to my children if I can release my frustrations and angst in a healthy manner, like screaming into a pillow. What ways do you like to let go? I’ll challenge you that if you don’t have a method for your madness, find one!

Ode to Crumbs!

2009-08-27T13:15:00.000-07:00

When there are children eating in your home there's bound to be crumbs......lots of crumbs. It's like crumbs just morph out of them. I wrote this poem in honor of the extensive amount of crumbs my boys generate each day. It's silly but Enjoy!

Crumbs! I find them everywhere

On the floor and in my chair

If my couch I dare look under

There’d be enough crumbs to end world hunger

As you travel room to room

You'll step on crumbs that weren't consumed

So many crumbs, you wonder how

Anything actually got in their mouth

Asleep at night, I mumble low

"Did I just roll on a Cheerio?”

You know it’s bad when you discover

Last week’s snack hidden in their covers

I sigh and say "Didn’t I just vacuum here?"

Those evil crumbs have reappeared

Crumbs might be my mortal end

Till my Dirt Devil charges again

Elmo's Pottytime

2009-08-25T19:48:00.000-07:00

Do any of you moms struggle to find just five seconds alone to do something for yourself? Or for that matter, is there ever a good time to go to the bathroom? Timing my trips to the bathroom has been an amazing feat all on its own. Normally, my kids follow me and bang on the door the whole time I'm in there. Talk about a private haven. About a year ago, I snuck away to go to the bathroom while Elmo was teaching the boys how to count to 10 in Spanish. I was led to believe that Elmo had them enraptured and so I left my post on the Lego strewn floor for a moment so I could have my own moment. Once I came back (which it had only been a couple of minutes) I find the room completely empty with Elmo still counting.....uno, dos tres. My gaze is drawn to the front door which I see is totally wide open. A sick horrible feeling creeps into my stomach and my heart drops. I run outside in my pajamas, (a.k.a the stay at home mom uniform) and see that my children are walking (Hagin's actually crawling because he can't walk) down the driveway headed for the street. Now, I didn't know that my kids could unlock the door. Obviously I do now, but it's a little too late don't you think? I quickly gather them up and bring them back inside. Did I mention that it was raining? I asked Colton, "What were you doing out there? Did Elmo tell you to go outside?" "We wanted to play in the rain" he says. Of course they do, what child doesn't? Being that my boys are natural escape artist, I need to buy like 10 deadbolts for my door and plan more strategic trips to the bathroom.

Eau de Baby Powder

2009-08-25T19:21:00.000-07:00

I'm sure that most mom's have a story of the thrills and trials of transitioning a child from the crib to a bed. Not a task for the light hearted or non-committal. Last year we moved Colton from his crib to a toddler bed out of necessity. He was constantly climbing (go figure) out of his crib and instead of waiting for him to sustain a head injury, we decided to put him closer to the floor. So, over the course of several days I diligently trained him to stay in his bed and sleep, which he did......kinda. But alas, I was not so diligent in removing some items from his room that he could possibly get into. One afternoon, I hear the sounds of laughter when there should be sounds of sleeping. I open up the door to discover the one thing that I definitely should have moved out of his reach. Baby powder. There is baby powder EVERYWHERE!! Every piece of furniture, every fiber of carpet, every single toy, and of course, Colton himself, are doused in baby powder. The smell was somewhat overwhelming, but it could have been a worse smell........like poop. It took me three days to clean it all up. I vacuumed four times, wiped every single toy, and went out to buy more baby powder. I've never been able to smell baby powder without thinking of this photo.

Face of God

2009-08-25T19:16:00.000-07:00

The idea for this poem came to me one night while I was rocking Hagin to sleep. I was just gazing into his face and thanking God for him and then I got to wondering what the face of God might look like. So, in my mind, I think there are many different faces of God that we can see every day if we are looking. Enjoy.

Sunbeams sever the moonlight’s stance

Blazing orange and yellow dance

Melting stars with its golden rod