The Happy Day Project, day 1

If you've been hearing talk of The Happy Day Project all over the place, well, that's because Julie and Jeannett are making people happy. Actually, they're encouraging all of us to make others happy.

And today we accomplished the challenge for Day 1: Bring a treat to a neighbor.

I did not plan for this. I just looked at the prompt this morning, and made do. That's how I roll. If I have the stuff on hand, then great. If not, NBD. Let it slide. We'll try again another day.

But today, we actually did it. I'm not guaranteeing we'll do ALL the challenges this week. I'm just glad we did ONE. Ya know, I gotta take what I can get, and delight in the little things.

In fact, that is what today's printable to go with the challenge was all about. You'll see what I mean in a minute.

What was in my pantry:
TJ's Pumpkin Bread mix
Chopped pecans
Snoopy Cupcake liners 
Dog paper plates from my son's birthday last year.




It was a turquoise and brown theme. Just kidding. There was no theme. It just worked out that way.

It took me about five whole minutes to mix up the batter.
Another five for my daughter to fill the cupcake liners {Pancake Pen required}.
Another five for my son to sprinkle on some pecans.
Twelve minutes to bake, during which we washed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher.

I had some expert "done-ness" testers. Wow, is that cake tester apparently a fun toy.



Mmmmm. Smelling so yummy. There was one muffin sans pecans. Because someone ate them all before he was finished sprinkling.



I spent another five minutes printing the note cards and wrapping the plates with yarn.

Wait. PAUSE on this post. See our new little pets in the background? Meet Rocky and Lily. Lily is the shy one. They were trying to get some sun.

Okay. Resume.



(Of course the parchment paper roll was on its last small rectangle. I learned tape does not stick to parchment. Even the super sticky box tape kind. Wrapped the other plate in plastic wrap.)

And ten minutes to deliver plates of muffins to two neighbor friends.

Ah! They were delighted. The kids had so much fun delivering them to their doors.

One friend just found out she is pregnant, and was feeling pretty awful. She sent me a text later saying our visit made her day. The other friend was so thankful as well, and my kids got invited in to see their giant turtle as a reward. Yeah...our turtles may be moving out before they become describable as "giant."

A little effort. A little modeling of kindness for the sake of the kids (sorta redeems yesterday's post? ha.) A little love...all going a long way. Thanks Julie and Jeannett.

Staying awake

Friday poured rain.

It was the first day I felt like I had a little strength after being sick for the few prior. So when I picked up the kids from school, I was itching to get out of the house and do something fun with them.

We headed toward the $2 theater that plays all the family-friendly movies several months after they've disappeared every place else. The re-release of The Lion King was waiting for us in all it's musical glory.

But we had an issue at the door. I really needed to bring in my hot tea. And I mean I really needed it. My scratchy throat needed it, and my sanity needed it. It had been another bad week, which had followed a bad week, all due to sickness rotating in our house for way too long. And that warm cup in my hand was like my security blanket at that point. But the teen working the popcorn counter said I needed to throw it away. No outside drinks were allowed. I couldn't go "past the podium" with it.

So we wandered a little in the foyer while I decided whether or not I was going to obey her and trash the fresh, giant hot tea I just bought next door. I paced the tile floor, my rain boots squeaking with each step. Once, I heard her shout, "Ma'am! You CAN'T go past the podium!" Exasperation welled as I shouted back over the heads in line for candy, "WHAT PODIUM!?" I didn't know what she was talking about, and God knows I was only pretending to care.

Then I started to seethe, just a bit. She has no idea. She's never been a mother! She hasn't ever survived two weeks of kids and husband with the flu. She's never subsisted off of Saltines for two weeks, breathing nothing but Lysol in every room. She certainly has NO idea how much I need that cup of chamomile and to just enjoy a freakin' Disney movie with my kids! I paced some more. I may have had grace on Thursday, but it was Friday and I was about to let her have it.

So what did I do? Decided my reasons trumped the law. Waited until the curly-haired concessions seller turned her back, and hid my cup under my son's coat. Yes. I. did. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Those measures being a blatant disregard for modeling rule-following and honesty. I happily sipped that thing through the whole movie. And it was delightful.

On the way home, the grey skies were lifting. In fact, though the rainy darkness loomed overhead, off in the distance was blue sky and billowing white clouds. The grand ones. The breathtaking ones. And we were headed right for them. But I didn't see them. I was feeling the fatigue of the outing, slightly dizzy and wondering if I'd overestimated my wellness. And trying to let go of the mom-fail scenario back at concessions.

It was my daughter who saw where we were headed first. "Mom! Don't those clouds look like Jesus could just come down through right now riding a beautiful horse?" Her words flashed so bright into my fog that I wanted to crumple up and weep and pray that it could be so. Right now, Jesus, would be just fine with me. I said, "Yes, wouldn't that be awesome?" pushing a cheery smile into my tone.

I wanted to weep because I was weary, yes. But also because she doesn't even know the Bible well enough to know what she knows. I wanted to weep because God has hidden truth from those who think themselves wise, and revealed it to little children (Matthew 11:25). It is shocking to hear wisdom from children, isn't it? Startling, humbling.

To my knowledge, she doesn't yet know about this passage:

"Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war...On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords."
Revelation 19: 11-16

(Did you know about this? Jesus may in fact have words engraved on his skin, sort of tattoo-ish, huh? Don't get mad at me. I learned about that from this incredible book.)

I'm sure she and I have talked about this.

And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.
Luke 21:27

But it was the first thing she thought of when she saw the clouds. Jesus coming for us.

I call that expectant. I want to be expectant, don't you? Particularly on the foggy days, when it's pouring, and I can't even think straight. I want to look past the haze, notice white puffy clouds in the distance, and expect to see Him coming.

Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.
Matthew 24:42

That phrase "stay awake" has also been translated "be prepared" and "be watchful." These are expressions of expectation, phrases that exhort us to remember at all moments that our Lord is in fact coming.

And something about that truth makes all the curly-haired concessions sellers, all the Lysol, all the coughing, and all the tears in all the world vanish like storm clouds in the light of the sun.

Grace on a Thursday: Facing what I am not

My friend Shauna - you know her, right? (she has this amazing blog) - had an incredible mother. I never got to meet her, but I've learned things from her nonetheless. Her daughter has carried on so much of her beauty.

A story about Cindie I may never forget is how when faced with her limitations, she'd gracefully state, "Well, I have many other fine qualities." I imagine she'd smile at the same time, fully unphased by her shortcomings, and fully satisfied by the gifts God had given her.

I, on the other hand, don't love to linger over my shortcomings. I'd rather focus on my strengths, quietly ashamed of that which I am not, and secretly wishing my weaknesses would just disappear.

So when I heard that Cindie would have such an attitude - one characterized by a deep understanding of grace - something in me craved it. Her example opened my eyes and made it seem plausible that perhaps I may be able to free myself from the self-inflicted pressure to be great at everything.

Now that I think about it, I don't think I'd previously realized what a life of striving I'd been living.

Recently, I took an online spiritual gifts test. You answer questions for a few minutes, and then it tells you what you are most likely gifted in (according to the motivational gifts listed in Romans 12), and by default, that which you are not. I have to ask myself, Do I spend more time thanking God for the incredible gifts He's given me in order to be effective for His kingdom, or do I spend more time staring at the figures that say I AM NOT gifted in many others? It is a real dilemma for me some days.

So today, as we could all use some grace for ourselves this Thursday, can we try something together?

In the comments, I'm going to share with you my few gifts, and the few I certainly do not have, based on that gifts test. I'll be practicing Cindie's motto as I type the weaknesses: "I have many other fine qualities!" And through grace, I'll be thanking God for my strengths as well as my weaknesses, because those are the areas in which His power can especially shine. Amen?

If you have a few minutes, go here and take the test yourself. (It's short) Then, share your results with us in a comment. It will give you percentages for each of seven gifts. The highest couple are your spiritual gifts - strengths given to you by God himself for serving and loving the world. And for that which you are NOT, we'll know you have many other fine qualities! 

(I'm hoping you have a chance to play along; since blogging sometimes feels like I'm talking AT you, I like to find ways to get to know YOU better. And don't miss the chance to read the analysis of each gift below the results. It's certainly helped me understand who God made me to be.)   

2 ways to say thanks

Just so you know, I'm blogging right now simply to distract myself from the goings on in my tummy that are not happy.

And to share what's on my mind tonight.

Firstly, I feel really lame because someone in the blog world inspired me to do something cool, and for the life of me, I can't remember whom. I searched high and low today for the post, but to no avail. Tell me if it was you who baked mini muffins and put them in egg cartons and delivered them to your kid's teacher. Please! I so wanted to steal the idea (that I think you stole from Pinterest). I'm so sorry I am blanking. But just know that you inspired me to do a good thing, be an example to my kids, and bless others. And I'm sure I wasn't the only one.

{Edited to add: Maureen commented below and saved the day! Casey made the muffins in the egg cartons!! Casey, you're awesome. I'm embarassed because I actually know Casey and still forgot. I blame the mommy brain.}

Anyhow, I mixed up a batch of these, piped the batter into mini muffins instead of scooped it into cookies, and wrapped up two egg cartons full. I tied the cartons with strips of fabric and yarn, and made orange paper labels for the tops that said, "I am thankful for all you do!" My kids delivered them today to their teachers. I didn't take any pics. Sorry. Just trust me that it was cute.

The second thing on my heart is that I'm doing this with Rachel. It starts tomorrow!





If you're not familiar, it is taking the time to hand write a thank you note to someone in your life every Wednesday in November, and then post about it and link up on the Thursdays.
But my thought is that I'm not sure I want to go public with my letters of thankfulness. I'm sort of thinking I want my sentiments to stay between the recipient and me. Rach says in her original post that that is OK, so I'm not breaking the rules or anything. But what do you think? Are you doing it too?

My other thought about participating is that I want to challenge myself in terms of to whom I will write. I don't want to just write to my husband and best friends and parents. I express my thankfulness for them often enough (what with me and my many, many words, long-winded cards for every occasion, etc.).

I want to think about and ask God who, in my life, needs to know that they matter. Who is aching for significance? Who is wondering if they are making a difference to anyone? 

Teachers? Bible Study leaders? My pastor? My child? (Ooh, that one gave me a chill just typing it.)

The thing is, you can be certain many around you are doubting themselves. We all go there from time to time, right? And the Lord knows exactly who needs a kind word. I just want to make sure I'm doing this to serve Him, not myself. Our effectiveness as believers is magnified greatly if we are listening closely for direction.

We'll see how it unfolds. Maybe I'll be so inspired by God's direction that I'll feel compelled to blog the details after all.

Lastly, friends, I have a fun thing for you to do this week for Grace on a Thursday, so check back if you can. I hope lots of you participate (it's not a linky, just an activity). We can learn a little about each other.

Night night.

Love for pinch-hitters

Today I needed to call in some back-up. It's Halloween Eve and a while ago, there was not a jack-o-lantern in sight. I'm always the designated carver, and I actually love it, especially carving my own couple guys. But honestly, this year, I just didn't have it in me. There has been at least one sick person in my house for the last ten days straight and I'm tired. Also, I'm not great at letting go of the expectations that I put on myself, so sometimes, when I see a chance, I challenge myself to just say No. That's the long and the short of it.

But yesterday, at the mention of letting go of pumpkin carving for one year, my daughter emotionally declared "I will hate Halloween if we can't carve pumpkins!" To which I replied, "Well, what about the loads of free candy. How will you feel about that part?" Because I know she loves candy more than anything and puh-lease.

So daddy volunteered to be the designated carver approximately three hours before being taken under by some sudden illness. No joke. I then called in the pinch-hitters, a.k.a. Nana and Pops.

As usual, they stepped up to the plate and knocked it out of the park. Ninety minutes of blessing my children and letting me off the hook was exactly what I needed. Check out my cool dad. (Do your parents still wear tee-shirts from your college, and let the grandkids put stickers on them? Cute.)

My son is actually not wearing vampire teeth; he is just missing all the top middle ones. That's a funny joke, though, God. How seasonal.

My daughter's pumpkin is carved according to a little formula we learned at church one year. It's something about salvation, being a light, and something else about love. If I weren't so tired, I'd try to find it because it was a really cute idea.

I hope and pray you have some pinch-hitters in your life, and that you remember to call on them when you need. Because life as a mom - wait, life as a person - can be exhausting. And having loving support available to back you up when you need it most is truly a gift.

Thanks, mom and dad, for always stepping up to the plate.

Costumes that disturb me most.

If you know me, you know that I have a sensitivity to violence. Maybe it's because I've struggled with fear in the past. So of course, I have a strong aversion to any of the dark, gruesome decor and costumes that you see around Halloween. Those have always been around, scary masks, death-themed front yards, and the like. I could do without all that.

But what shocks me more every year is not the scary stuff. That I expect. What I'm most disturbed by is the increasingly provocative array of costumes for little girls. This year, while I was at Target, I was blown away by the choices. This line, as I stared at it on the hangars, left me standing there speechless.

It's called Monster High. If you've never heard of it, like I hadn't, these are the dolls from which the costumes are derived. I'd describe the outfits as either in the goth-stripper category or the goth-Brittney Spears-in-the-naughty-school-girl-outfit. Which is essentially the same thing. And friends. These costumes went down to a size that could fit a first or second grader. Did you catch the footwear worn by the girls modeling the costumes? I don't believe the shoes come with the outfits at Target, but the look on the picture is definitely being sold to small children as pretty, fashionable, and acceptable. (By the way, where exactly might one find knee-high, platform, lace-up vinyl boots in a child's size 2?)

I'm not going to take this opportunity to begin a diatribe against our culture for not protecting its children. A culture that no longer simply winks it's eye at immodesty, but that unashamedly promotes the sexual objectification of children's bodies. Read that sentence again. This is real. Mainstream. At Target. It's enough to turn my stomach.

What I can address, however, is my personal struggle to train up my daughter against the driving current of the world. One of her close friends purchased one of the above costumes. This girl lives in a Christian home. I simply asked her what she was going to be for Halloween, and her exact words to me were, "It's soooo cute and not inappropriate at all." Usually quick on my feet with words, I simply did not know how to respond. I couldn't tell if this child was defending herself on a presumption that I'd disapprove, or just repeating what she'd heard. And what does this tell me about her internal gauge as to what is or is not appropriate?

The word that comes to mind is the one my dad uses to describe himself when it comes to watching shows with violent content: desensitized.

It's a difficult job raising modest daughters in this day and age. And I expect it is just as difficult to raise a son who can turn his eyes away from the parade of sexualized young ladies long enough to make wise choices. I'm not quite at that point with my 6 year old son. But with my 9 year old daughter, yes, we're going there. She can't understand sexuality in any way yet, but she can understand basics: that some girls try to get attention by showing their bodies, instead of realizing their worth comes from the inside.

She'll be a cowgirl, come Monday night, by the way. She was so excited to choose it off the Target rack. The skirt was a little bit short since she's tall for her age, but it's nothing a pair of brown leggings underneath can't solve. I tell my daughter that God made her body beautiful. She doesn't have a sense that her body is bad or shameful; just that modesty is a value in our home. We'll get to deeper conversations on "why" when she is a bit older.

For now, though, I'm curious. How do you handle issues of modesty in your house?     

Grace on a Thursday: Avalanche

My latest favorite worship song is called "Like an Avalanche" by Hillsong. This week, these two lines are speaking to me:

And I find myself here on my knees again
Caught up in grace like an avalanche.
Nothing compares to this love. Love. Love.

I wonder if I experience grace like an avalanche. It's a powerful phrase that I skip over as if it's simply poetry. But watch this.

An avalanche is not careful. It is trembling and awesome, wiping out every hindrance in its path without effort. It makes a landscape altogether different. Do I allow grace to do that in my heart?

When I was very small, I started to accumulate this pile of sin, let's imagine, in heaven. I see it as on a scale tipping lower and lower as the years went by, my rebellion adding to it every day. The pile became a mountain of debt I couldn't pay. It was a pile of darkness and filth compared to His holiness.

But then the moment arrived when I yielded my life to Him. I found myself on my knees pleading for that heap of sin to be taken off my scale. All that weight had followed and haunted me too long. I asked Jesus to forgive me, and I believed that His blood paid the debt I owed. And suddenly, all was changed.

Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow.

Isaiah 1:18

The mountain on my scale became glaring and white, and it was so heavy that the scale began to tip. At first a bit slid off, snowflakes sprinkling down on me below. But momentum gathered the rest and suddenly, a tremendous avalanche of grace cascaded downward until every last bit had been cleaned off the scale. Does my heart tremble at the thought of what Jesus has done to my mountain of sin?

I realize I don't want a little grace. I don't want God to sprinkle it onto my life like I sprinkle cinnamon on my coffee, yet that's sort of how I picture it sometimes. Like it's a garnish on the side of my life for me to then sprinkle on those around me when they "need" it, and when I feel like giving it. No.

He longs for us to let grace crash down on us like an avalanche, catch us up in the power, overwhelm us, and altogether change the landscape in our hearts.

After an experience with grace like that, everything looks different, particularly other people's mountains. For those you know who have also trusted Jesus with their lives, you begin to recognize their snowy landscapes, understanding that their sin has been paid for just like yours (so who am I to condemn?). For those who still bear the weight of their own mountain of sin, you begin to pray that they too will one day yield to the One who can free them (so what can I feel but compassion?). Totally different landscape.

This avalanche of grace is not a one-time event at the moment of surrender. It's a constant flowing, a sea of white, covering us and our sin. Washing away the shame. Cleansing us from the filth. Exchanging darkness for light.

And God knows I need to be caught up in it every single day.