Family Tree

I heard the best Christmas song at a Dave Barnes concert last weekend that made me think about my family. Wanted to share it with you guys. It brought back all the old memories of Santa Clause, Christmas eve at the Henderson's, waking up to toys and ski clothes, and reading through the Christmas story as a family. And as we grow, our lives become so much richer with each addition! I love my family! Take it away, Dave.




Family Tree, by Dave Barnes

Family car we barely fit
Christmas time had come again
Bundled up to fight the freeze
Picking out the family tree

We'd decorate with clumsy hands
And hope that Santa comes again
And in the morning wake to see
Gifts beneath the family tree

And I don't know where I'm going
But I do know who I'll be
These memories and names like leaves all hang on us
The family tree

We're older now, We all have changed
But we all laugh at the same old things
We'll spend the night with memories
Gathered 'round the family tree

And I don't where I'm going
But I do know who I'll be
These memories and names like leaves all hang on us

We're so much more than blood
We're more than names
We're bound by bonds that only God sustains

But this time of year
We all gather here
And I always know I'm home

There are voices now where silence was
The subtle signs of growing up
Where one is born, another leaves
Branches on the family tree

Christmas Cheer

We had a fun little Christmas celebration with the Bible study group on Monday! Linda hosted us and had a great fire burning when we arrived.  Lots of Christmas music and laughter!

She gave us each a devotional book called Jesus Calling.  It's so great!  My sis wrote a review of it here.

And we had pizza from Uncle Maddio's!  It's a build-it-yourself place in Toco Hills.  Delish!

One of Linda's famous, spectacular salads.  Secret ingredient = mint!

And we had a killer cake for Elizabeth/Jesus' birthdays.

We exchanged some classy white elephant gifts and told some great stories!

I found these wine bottle characters and got one for everybody!

And Linda had the bessst party favors ever.  Glasses that make Christmas images appear when you look at a light!  They are hilarious!  I wore them in the car all the way home and saw angels in every street lamp!

Georgia??

Not sure what energy drink I was sippin on when I thought I could do a post per day. Especially during Christmas? But nevertheless, I will make it up to you, bloggies. For now, I will blame frozen fingers. Check out my car temperature from yesterday morning. In Georgia. Good gosh.

And it snowed on Sunday and Monday! Didn't really stick, but still so fun! I'm just hoping the cold stays around until Christmas so I can sport my new sweaters on Christmas morning instead of a t-shirt. And no, that is not snow on my dashboard. Just a little dusting from the elves. Car wash needed. Stocking stuffer hint, Santa.

So maybe you're wondering what I'm doing with all of this free time now that school is out...since I'm clearly not blogging. This weekend I went to Athens for my cousin Joseph's wedding. LOVE THAT TOWN. I got so pumped when I pulled onto Broad Street. All the downtown trees were lit. Great memories! And the wedding was spectacular!

Sunday night was a lessons and carols service at church, which I will be sharing more about soon, because the songs and scriptures were so great. Monday night we had a Christmas party at Bible study. Pictures to come. And other than that, Christmas shopping like mad woman! Not so much relaxing but that is next on my to-do list!

Shout out to moms

After returning from Thanksgiving with my sister, I was talking with my friends who also have nieces and nephews about how hard it must be to be a mom.  Constantly chasing, feeding, changing, interpreting cries, soothing, entertaining, and forgetting about yourself. Often without any help or recognition. Around the same day I read this on someone's blog, and I hope its an encouragement to you moms out there:

Invisible Mother.....

It all began to make sense, the blank stsares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .

I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, “Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.

No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there...'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.

Return to posting

Alrighty...lets see if I remember how to do this. Sorry for going MIA. I am officially DONE with classes and finals for this semester! So, maybe my goal will be a post a day while I'm out of school. Ambitious?

Even though we're smack dab in the middle of Christmas cheer, I would be remiss not to at least share my Thanksgiving travels. Especially since it involved the.cutest.nephew.ever.

This is Will's "I don't think I know you..." face. But all it took was a banana for him to warm up to me.

As far as gluten is concerned...didn't even miss it. There are some great substitutes out there and I seriously didn't notice a difference. We went to a gluten-free bakery/restaurant and I had one of the best wraps I've ever tasted! We also made some killer pumpkin pancakes:

Sis busted out the fancy china and goblets!

We had brussel sprouts, turkey and stuffing, acorn squash, cranberry sauce, and strawberry pretzel salad. And a pumpkin pie for dessert!

And this is photo evidence that my 16 month old nephew likes brussel sprouts!! That's right! Pretty sure Matt did some type of fist-pump when this happened.

The rest of the weekend we chatted...

Did some taste tests...

Posed for the camera...

Bonded with grandma...

Decorated the tree...

Ate some ashes...

and enjoyed the company! It was a great Thanksgiving! Miller and Matt were excellent hosts and chefs. And Will was my constant source of smiles and entertainment!

Turkey Time

In approximately 8 hours I will be leaving on a jet plane to the windy city.  Leaving Atlanta's high of 74˚ for Chicago's Thanksgiving day low of 19˚.  Leaving a schmorgasboard of casseroles and dressing for a gluten-free Thanksgiving feast.  Leaving "the way we've always done it" for new family traditions.  And I couldn't be more thrilled.  Because no matter what's on the table, I'll be eating up this turkey:

And I'll be with family.  Creating new memories, new stories, and new traditions.  All while wearing real winter clothes.

Last night my Bible study group had a Thanksgiving feast.  Our leader, Linda, hosted us in her fab-u-lous house that is straight out of Southern Living. 



Good food, good company, good times! Happy Thanksgiving!!

Beautiful Death

For some reason the leaves have been changing later than normal this year.  And that is fine by me!  I've been trying to soak 'em up as much as possible.  There are a couple spots on my drive home from work where I usually let out a "YEAH!" when I see some awesome color combinations.  Here are a few pictures I took around my office building: 

The view from our parking deck.  Love the combination of all the fall colors!

These are from my neighborhood streets and duck pond.

There is one tree in particular that just about takes my breath away every time I pass it.  It's massive.  It's just now turning electric yellow so I'll post a pic soon.  I've heard it might be a ginkgo but you guys can help me identify it.  Whatever it is, it makes me so excited about a creative God!

I recently read a blog post about how ironic it is that the beauty we're enjoying during this season is actually death.  Anybody have any analogies/thoughts on this?

Real

My counselor is the bomb. (yes, I still say that)  Wednesday I started off my counseling session by telling her that our relationship wasn't "real."  Probbbbably not what she was expecting.  I absolutely love my counselor, and I love that I can be brutally honest with her.  She handled it like a pro, but asked what about it wasn't real to me.  The first 3 things that popped to mind:

1. It's one-sided.
2. Our time is structured and limited.
3. I pay her to talk to me.

I wasn't upset with her, I was just expressing some general frustrations with counseling.  And while there are limitations on our relationship, every relationship needs boundaries.  And our counseling relationship is actually not as "by the book" as you'd expect.  We laugh, we know each other outside of counseling, and she is an open book.  We are friends.  I can ask her anything.  And she is not afraid to bring the heat.  She doesn't mince words like the Slap Chop.

Wednesday as I was venting/wallowing/processing you know what she said to me?  "It seems like everything I'm saying is bouncing off of you like one of those 25¢ high-bouncy-balls from the mall."  So you know what she did?  Instead of using feeling words or formulas, she was quiet.  She didn't act fake or tell me everything would be ok.  She just sat with me.  She prayed.  She listened. 

And she told me she was "hoping for me."  I'm pretty sure I gave her a blank stare, but after the session I realized what she was doing.  She was hoping for me when I had lost hope.  She was praying for me when I couldn't pray.  She was pleading with God for me when I couldn't face Him.  And that was real. 

Pillow Talk

I realize that unless my male readers have a female in their life, they probably have no idea what this title is referring to. Let me enlighten you. When a female's head hits the pillow, thoughts come flooding to her brain. It would be detrimental to her mental health to try to contain them.  These thoughts include an assessment of the days activities, replaying of the days conversations, and probably some thoughts about the future.  Usually a little more personal than table talk, more about struggles, insecurities, or just about a crush or cute boy you spotted.  Living with roommates for the past 8 years, I've had my share of pillow talk.  In my current house,  it could be called "pallette talk."  If you have yet to be forced to engage in pillow talk by a female, your time is coming.

Last night, I got all snuggly in my bed, flipped on the sound machine, and let out my nightly exhale/sigh.  Immediately my mind started going over the day. And I had this picture:  Jesus laying across from me, engaging with me in pillow talk! Strange, maybe, but awesome.  So I laid there and recounted the days activities, conversations, and talked some about the future. I think I was actually speaking out loud.  And I pictured Jesus laying there, holding some of my squishy pillows, just listening. 

This was definitely one of the most personal images of God I've had in a while.  Some people would argue that our view of God is too casual.  That we don't have enough respect or awe for a powerful, perfect, and holy God.  That we want Him to be our "buddy."  But I disagree.  Sometimes God seems too high and mighty to be involved in my day-to-day life.  Too distant, too busy, or too judgmental.  Like He is our boss that we don't want to bother unless we have a really important question.  But isn't this one of the amazing characteristics of God?  That He can be all powerful, all knowing, and perfectly holy, and still wants to be involved in every detail of my life.  That He can create the universe, hold it together, and still engage in pillow talk.

Starbucks and God

How in the world my brain connected Starbucks and God is beyond me.  Maybe because they are the coffee gods and their drinks produce wisdom and insight.  And youth, happiness, and power apparently.  But I do seem to be churning out analogies left and right these days, so here goes:

This morning on the way to work I'm sipping on my newest love, the Toffee Mocha Latte. I'm cradling that thing like my firstborn. I think I dreamed about it the night before.  I've doctored it appropriately, made sure it's the right temperature, and I'm ready to taste sheer satisfaction.

I have about a 15 minute drive from Starbucks to work, including lots of back roads and turns. So to prevent any of my precious gold from spilling out on the bumpy ride, I hold my holiday cup in my hand with a death grip.  Every time I turn a corner, put on brakes, or hit a pothole, I am holding that thing in the air and squeezing it tight. While the car is going for a heck of a ride, my coffee is safe and sound.

As I protected my prized possession from the outside world, I pictured God holding and protecting me.  He looks at us as pure gold.  He paid for us with His life.  He's holding us in His hand with a death grip.  He sees the bumps and turns coming, and He squeezes us higher and tighter.  We may be sloshed around a bit, but we never spill out.  We are secure in His hand.  When we feel the bumps, we look to God and ask what He is up to and why life is so hard.  But we don't see the whole picture.  All the while He has been holding us, never allowing us to be completely spilled, broken, or hurt.


"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed." 

- 2 Corinthians 4: 8-9

Weekend in Pictures

I have some disgruntled readers. Tonight at dinner they pounded their fists on the table and chanted "MORE POSTS! MORE POSTS!" I hear you, fans, and I'm here to make sure your morning internet searches turn into at least a 10 minute stall from work.

So, in an effort to increase quantity and frequency, and since eloquent posts flow a little more like molasses than wine, I hope you can settle for the weekend in pictures. Luckily I had the most photogenic and friggin' adorable photo subject this weekend.

The classic "shirt tucked in your underwear" look

Do you not want to eat up this yellow jacket??

Glow-in-the-dark halloween jammies. I got a matching set.

Will was not phased by Grandpa's spooky faces

More to come!