I'm Grateful

When I was in middle school, my friends and I made up a game. We'd walk up to friends, teachers, strangers at the mall...and ask them to tell us one thing for which they are grateful. We usually played it on a day that we were upset. For whatever trivial Jr. high reason, we'd had a bad day, so we would declare it "I'm Grateful Day" and play our game to feel better. In the meantime, we often made a lot of other people feel better, too. This week marks three large milestones, and I think it's time for a Grateful Day. Here's mine...what are you grateful for?

It is Christmas - the day we set aside to honor the decision God made to save us. He didn't have to, but he chose to send His Son to become human. He came for the sole reason of saving my messed up, reckless, undeserving life. He chose to come even though He knew He'd die. I'm so grateful He did. I'm so grateful He didn't take the easy way out as I often do. I'm grateful He stopped at nothing to save me. I'm grateful He lets me live the amazing life I do.

I'm a mom - 9 months ago I wasn't. I'm grateful my house is filled with the sounds of someone learning and discovering something new each day (even when what she's discovering is the dishwasher and she's trying to crawl in). I'm grateful that on the hardest days, I will never go without smiling. God didn't have to bless me with the ability to have a child. I'm so grateful He did.

Zoe is cancer free. Exactly one year ago, my family began the hardest journey we've faced to date. In a matter of days, my niece went from a normal, happy 2-year-old to one unable to walk. On December 21st, doctors found a tumor on her spine and operated to remove what they could. We later learned Zoe's tumor was cancerous and in January of this year, she began a treatment plan of chemotherapy and proton radiation. Today, doctors call her a NED - she has No Evidence of Disease. Today, my sister is aware of a strength she didn't know she had before. Today, my family is closer than ever. Today, I don't pray because it sounds nice; I pray because I know firsthand that we couldn't have lived without Him. Today, my heart feels a little too full...I'm so GRATEFUL.

listening

Brynna is convinced I can't hear her. She can't use words yet, but about 13 times a day she has something so important to tell me that it overtakes her. She babbles loudly, she bangs on her drum (thanks, Aunt Vikki for the wonderful Christmas present), she grabs my face so I am looking at her, and at times, she even attempts to hit me. Whatever is on her mind requires my undivided attention. What Brynna doesn't understand is that I can hear her just fine. I'm listening even when she doesn't know it. When she's sleeping...I'm listening. When she's playing in another room and it gets a bit too quite...I'm listening. I don't always give her whining, crying or fussing the attention she prefers, but it does not change the fact that I hear her.

I had 3 separate conversations this week with girls convinced that God isn't listening to them. They talk and talk, they yell at Him, they act out in rebellion, all the while convinced that He doesn't hear them. How many times a day does God look down at you or me with the same face I give my 9 month old? It doesn't change His love for us, but He's probably a little tired. Just because He doesn't respond to your whining or rebellion doesn't mean He doesn't hear you. He hears you, baby girl. He's listening.

The question is: are you? When was the last time you stopped to listen to what He has to say? When did you last pick up His Word and read it just to know His ways? Brynna is 9 months old. She's concerned only with herself. She can't grasp yet that I have more to give her than she can see or imagine. You aren't 9 months old, but are you acting like it?

Stop banging on your toy drum. Stop yelling. Stop talking. Listen. And you might just find that He's been listening all along...

Ode to Beth

On Monday, Brynna was teething so I missed my last class for the semester at the Y. I can't say I was sad. I never want to leave something incomplete but after the masses of food I ate last week, I can't honestly say I was looking forward to the torture Beth had in store for us. (She laughed last time at the thought of us working out after Thanksgiving. The kind of laugh that isn't really funny but more scary.) Never-the-less Beth has become a common theme this fall, so I decided she needed some recognition.

Ode to Beth
I used your name as a curse word a few times,
Like every time I sprinted to the gym's black line.
Come Sunday night, I was again a child,
A few Mondays I wondered if I could hide.
I came to hate the rigor you required,
I about dropped my kid, my legs were so tired.

But I now know the name of the muscles to hate
When they scream in pain and are sore and ache.
I can say I've pushed through when I wanted a break,
And I got my tail kicked by a paper plate.

Even though it was hard, I must admit...
All my butt needed was a Beth-sized kick.

Note - I'm not kidding about those paper plates. I almost died. But it worked. If you need a good ab workout, just let me know. I'll share a Beth secret with you. :o)